My, how time flies. I got lazy and skipped a week of blogging. Then another, then another. People started to complain. Well, things got away from me, as things will do if you aren’t paying attention every minute of every damn day.
For example, I started dating this man and, despite the fact that I wasn’t at all sure he was my type, I’m still dating him, which is a little time-consuming and a lot weird. I keep thinking we need to discuss why this may not work, but he won’t stop talking long enough for me to tell him. If there were a talkers marathon, I’d sign him right up and start taking odds. By the end of the evening, I have abandoned all hope of gaining control of the conversation.
Okay, that wasn’t entirely truthful. He sort of isn’t my type except for being bald and funny. For some unnatural reason, a sense of humor as dry as the Gobi Desert appeals to me. That and the fact that I can’t offend him. Not that I try to offend him – I don’t try to offend anyone, but let’s face it, it happens. The man is nearly unoffendable. You gotta like that. Also, he’s a former smoker who cheats, and since I’m a former smoker who will cheat at the drop of a match, the dating continues, just two people being a bad influence on each other.
And speaking of imponderable guy stuff
In the news: a recent study suggests men in their mid-forties are afflicted with “hotness delusion syndrome.” Apparently there are about 15 percent more women than men in this age group now, and too many women chasing too few men can mean only one thing: a whole lot of guys thinking they’re hotter than they are. Or so the theory goes. It isn’t my demographic, of course, but I can see where it might have validity. We all know that for every woman who detests shopping for swimwear, there’s a guy walking the beach in a Speedo and black socks carrying fifty extra pounds and thinking he looks just fine.