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How many dates does it take to find a decent guy?

Posted by carron on December 3, 2006

Oh boy, online dating…Well, I had a few experiences that you could call alarming or strange.  I go a lot on my intuition, and it has saved me alot of grief, I think.  First of all, I’m a widow, and after about 14 months I wanted to pen pal with other folks, to get to know some people.  That included males.  I think my first site was “Friendship.com” but I don’t know if they are still in existence.  I met a few guys online, we chatted in a chat room and then one on one via email.  One particular guy I emailed with for awhile, but never met in person because he was soooo strange.  He kept asking me if I had a “long neck”.  I made a joke of it and said, Yeah, I’m a real giraffe.  But I think he was serious.   We exchanged pictures, and he kept calling & emailing me, telling me he thought my neck was lovely”…he got my son on the phone one time and made a comment to me about “who was that?”  He seemed very distrusting, and made comments about Steven sounding much older than 17.  Right away I didn’t like that.  I decided that he wasn’t one I wanted to meet, and wrote a polite email to that effect, and in return, he totally freaked out on me.  I had to end up blocking him and fortunately for me, I never gave an address or my last name, and he lived far enough away I didn’t have to worry about him finding me. Shortly after, I got an unlisted phone number.Another guy I met for coffee, after several weeks of email and phone calls.  I thought we had a lot in common, until he dropped the bomb on me that he had 5 kids, all under 10 years old!  His brother was living with him as a live-in nanny.  As we got to talking, he admitted that his wife left him and that she was pregnant with their 6th.  He was very resistant to my questions about why she left, but I had the underlying feeling that he abused her.  He was an army officer, and I just had a sneaking suspicion that he was not a nice person.  No one leaves 5 kids for no reason, and pregnant to boot!  I decided after meeting him once that was enough.The next strange one was when I was emailing & chatting with a guy who seemed very normal.  He was a football fan, good old country boy from what he said, devoted father or two.  He had a steady job, had been divorced for a few years, etc.  We had one coffee date, I liked him and he liked me, so we decided to go out to dinner another night.  As we sat down to order, he told the waitress, separate checks, please.  I thought, ok, that’s pretty strange and a little cheap of him, considering he asked ME out, but ok.  After we had talked a bit and we were in the middle of dinner, he got on the subject of his wife, how she had cheated on him, etc.  He then said, very casually, “I really wanted to kill her.”  I kind of nodded, like I could see how he would be so angry, he would fleetingly want to put a bullet in her, but he said, NO, I mean, I REALLY planned to kill her.  As if it was the most normal thing in the world.  I thought, ok, whack job, I’m out of here.  I finished up pretty quickly and asked the waitress for my check, and he wanted to know if I wanted to come back to the house & watch football….no thanks!  Never saw him again. The last story:  I met a guy online, who lived fairly close to me, but seemed a little off from the start, but I figured, what the heck, we will meet for coffee.  We met and he seemed very nice, clean cut, articulate, but after we got to talking…(notice a pattern here, ha ha ha!?) he dropped the comment that his first wife had left him (again, a common pattern here) and proceeded to plow into his “how I hate her and look what she did to me” whining.  (If I had a dime for all of these stories I’ve had to listen to, I’d be rich, like most women will tell you.)  I told him I preferred not to talk about his divorce, since that was his private business, and I just would like to get to know him.  He said, fine, then proceeded to tell me about all the bum dates he’s had since his wife left, including kinky sex!  Mind you, this is at 10 am in the morning, in a country diner!  I had to head that conversation off at the pass as well.  He then asked me for a date.  He wanted to take me to dinner.  I asked him could we please not talk about weird dates or his ex wife.  He agreed, and promised a clean slate. 

We met for dinner, and he was a real gentleman.  No separate checks this time.  He was educated and had an interesting job (airline pilot), so we talked about that for awhile.  I never have spent any time talking with any of the men I met about my husband who had died, and interestingly enough, not a one really showed any interest!  Anyhow, Mr. Airline Pilot got on a subject that told me he was not a candidate for date #2.  He informed me that he had an IQ that way above normal and therefore, most women couldn’t converse with him.  All of this with a straight face.  Unfortunately at that moment, I swallowed some water the wrong way and began to cough & choke.  He didn’t offer a napkin, or show any concern, and proceeded to continue to talk.  I had to leave for the bathroom to get control of my coughing, and when I came back, I decided I’d had enough and made an excuse about leaving early.  I was relieved to get out of there, the man was obviously in love with himself (kept checking his hair in the mirror behind me). 

Help!  How many dates does it take to find a decent guy?

  

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Was MIT the first place that started computer dating?

Posted by carron on November 28, 2006

Year: 1966

Aim: meet some smart guys

Technique:  The Computer!

 

Lounging in the common room, at

Wellesley
College, my friends and I were hanging out talking about the mixer that weekend at Harvard when a young guy from MIT strolled in and asked my friends and me if we’d be interested in a free computer dating service to connect us with guys from MIT and Harvard.  After our initial reservations, we’d never heard of anything like this, we decided it might be a fun, goofy thing to try and we accepted the forms he was handing around.  Each form was about four pages long and asked a series of questions ranging from basic information like name, age, height and religion to what we were studying, our interests, likes and dislikes.  Next to the questions was a scale of 1-5 on how strongly you liked or disliked something and another scale of 1-5 that rated how strongly you felt about a prospective partner needing to like or dislike the same thing.  You could, for instance, state that you were Jewish and only wanted to date someone else who was Jewish or that your prospective partner must be taller than you and like, say, opera.  You also had to rate yourself on a scale of 1-5 of how good looking you were physically and what level of handsomeness you required in a prospective partner!  It seemed as though you could customize your perfect partner.  We giggled over our choices, some of us rating ourselves as honestly as we could and other girls putting down a 5 on looks in the hopes of attracting lots of answers. It sounded like a lot of fun and we all looked forward to meet some wonderful guys from Harvard.  I have to admit we Wellesley girls preferred the Ivy league group, we all agreed that we would rather date a guy from Harvard than MIT.

 

These were exciting times and I couldn’t wait for the first call.  I had received a list of about 15 guys with their name and phone numbers but declined to call any of them, if they were interested, I figured, they should make the first call.  In the meantime, us girls got together and went over our lists.  Some people had a long list of names and others had just three or four names so we tried to work out what part of the forms had given us more or less guys on the list.  Was it how attractive we had rated ourselves, our interests or hobbies?  We couldn’t find any rhyme or reason to the lists. As we began to date the guys we came to the conclusion that none of the questionnaire had mattered except for our age and height!  All the guys were always older and taller but even major issues like religion had been ignored with some of the Jewish girls being connected with non-Jewish partners.  It didn’t really seem to make much sense.  We wondered what had been important to the guys except for age and height!

I had a number of calls and got together with two different guys from Harvard but was disappointed with the outcomes.  I spoke to others on the telephone but declined to meet them, disillusioned with the whole thing.  One guy from MIT called trying to get a date but I brushed him off saying I had to wash my hair that night and I was busy the following week.  The guy called back again and tried once more to get a date but I kept insisting I was too busy.  Eventually, in frustration, he complained “I’ve paid $5 to join this computer group so the least you could do is meet me and have a coffee!”  Reluctantly, and rather guiltily, I agreed to have one date and told him where I was housed at
Wellesley.  At least I wouldn’t have to go out of my way to meet the guy.  That Friday, at 6pm, the desk clerk called up to say I had a caller.  A “caller” meant a man was waiting as opposed to a “visitor” which would have meant a female friend.  I really didn’t want to meet this guy and I made no effort to do my hair or put on make up except for a quick swipe of lipstick, I wandered down the hall and peered over the banister to see what this unfortunate guy looked like, expecting some nerdy, pimply youth.  At the desk stood a young man with thick black hair and as he looked up a stunning pair of true blue eyes met mine.  Aaargh!  I want to run back to my room and do my hair, change my sweater, put on makeup and collect myself but he had already seen me and I had to continue down the stairs wondering how I could possibly have thought poorly of an MIT student.  He was gorgeous.  If there is such a thing as love at first sight then cupid had definitely struck me.

We went for coffee at the shop on campus and he completely charmed me and ended my computer dating career right then and there.  We were inseparable from then on and married five years later. 

Computer worked even back in 1966

 

 

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Chat Room Dating – Three Strikes!

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on October 22, 2006

I lay in bed and imagined spending the rest of my life alone.  I mean, it’s not as though I didn’t like spending some time alone it’s just that I didn’t want it to be always and forever.  I have a wonderful daughter, Liz, to share things with but how many sixteen-year-olds want to spend every Friday and Saturday night with their Mom.  I jumped out of bed, started up the computer and began to search for my future.

 

To start with, and mostly I admit out of complete ignorance, I tried chat rooms.  I started with AOL chat rooms for divorced and single people over 40, it seemed as good a place as any, after all what did I know.  What I discovered was that the Internet lets all sorts of weird, and rarely wonderful, people into your life and not only that but your email box becomes besieged with spam after any time in these chat rooms.  Why did everyone suddenly feel I needed Viagra, I’m a woman for starters. Were they just presuming I was going to meet some really old guy and I’d have a supply ready, just in case?  I mean what’s with that?  Then there was the steady supply of “marital aids.”  Well, there’s a euphemism, what about “divorced aids,” that might be more appropriate.  Is someone out there trying to tell me something?  The only message that was coming through loud and clear was, “Get a New Email Address!”

 

After trolling through a number of screen names and talking back and forth with a couple of particular guys I started to chat on the phone with one of them.  I felt I could tell from his voice, intonation and attitude what he was like and I agreed to meet, he asked me over to his house for a coffee.  Looking back on it now I realize this was the most stupid thing I could have done, to go to his home rather than meet in a public place, but in my ignorance, I knew no better.  I told my daughter where I was going and what I knew about him and before I had even been handed a drink she was calling my cell phone to check up on me.  It was reassuring to know she was both within reach on the phone and she was looking out for me.  Wasn’t this the opposite way around, aren’t I supposed to be the mother checking on my sixteen-year-old’s whereabouts? 

The evening went well, he was a nice enough guy but the distance that separated us physically and the fact that he had three young children was off putting.  As we talked, I began to feel he was looking for a mother, housekeeper and cook more than anything else. I didn’t want to go back to being a Mom of little ones and being at the beck and call of someone else’s children, I was looking for a new life now.

 

I went back to the chat rooms and tried again but it seemed that most of the guys out there were looking for a physical relationship above all else, nothing was taken at face value and sexual innuendos flowed freely.  Call me old fashioned but, to me, the physical side of things comes after the mental and emotional connection.  Finally, after much searching, I found another guy that seemed on my wavelength, we spoke on the phone, he sounded great, and we arranged to meet for dinner at a little French restaurant. 

Shortly into the dinner, over an expensive bottle of Pinot Noir, I began to realize he was a scumbag, plain and simple.  He suddenly seemed only interested in the sexual side of things and when I finally managed to get him off that topic he spent his time talking about why he drove a small car (it’s cheaper); why he get’s his clothes from Marshall’s (it’s cheaper); why he shops at Acme (it’s cheaper). 

Could he get any cheaper?  Yes, he could. 

The meal couldn’t have ended quickly enough but then there was another surprise, “Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten my wallet!”  My first thought was that this was something he should have thought about before ordering the wine but my second thought was that nobody, and I mean nobody, forgets their wallet.  I had been duped.  I went home and cried. 

Now, I was beginning to question my own ability to evaluate someone.  It’s true, you really do not know who you are talking to online.

 

For a while I gave up on looking.  I would rather be alone than feel desperate enough to be going out with these kinds of men.  But, gradually, I decided it might be worth one last look.  I searched around in the chat rooms, for the over forties, and found a guy that seemed genuine and interesting, as we chatted back and forth my daughter came into the room and I showed her the conversation.  Looking at the screen name she suddenly burst out, “I know that guy, he’s in my class at school!”  I was talking to a seventeen year old!  Is this the new thing, instead of old men trying to lure teenage girls now it’s young men trying to snag older women? What is this about? 

But, despite these downfalls, if you persist and are careful you can find good people online.  I gave up chat rooms, joined yahoo personals and the first guy I met up with became my present partner of six years.  It was worth it in the end.

 

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Dark side of community – mob cyberbullying

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

I am learning about the scope of internet sexuality, and understanding the power of the internet to build community, one aspect of the web that took me by surprise is online bullying. Apparently this is a huge problem for kids. While we don’t yet have stories about this form of Cyber Connection, a quick search on Google turns up many sites specializing in this scourge.

For example, a story in http://www.cyberbullying.org tells about an overweight kid who was undressed in the locker room. Another kid took his picture and started flashing it around from cell phone to cell phone. By the time the boy had finished dressing, half the school knew about the picture. It’s a dark twist on community. They hooked up to hurt someone. What enormous power!! The wave can be used for good or bad, and at either extreme it can carry you along in its surge.

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International Play by J.J. Hudson

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

I play the oldest game known to the world. Ancient game boards similar to our backgammon board have been unearthed in the deserts of Iraq, though the variety the people at that time played we in modern times call the Royal Game of Ur. It’s quite a simple game and the finer points of strategy can probably be picked up in a night.

The beauty of the Internet is I now get to play backgammon with people all over the planet. Thanks Bill Gates! Geography is made obsolete with a toss of pixilated dice. I can’t see my international doppelganger, but I have some indication as to his ethnicity. Just today I’ve played the royal game with people who speak Hebrew, Norwegian and Japanese, somebody who speaks Francais, and a really angry Russian. I’m not claiming I’m a skilled player, but I’ve made quite a few self-appointed experts at the game very annoyed. I take pride in how the Russians seem to vanish, coitus interruptus, when they fall behind or even have a single bad roll. Such babies they are.

I feel like I’m learning a lot about the people of the world through my international play. I know the Russians are as temperamental as they are aggressive. The Japanese play very conservatively and take longer turns, which isn’t a bad thing if you need to run back to the refrigerator for another beer. The Norwegians are cold, hard strategists like they are generals looking over a black and white battlefield. As for those who speak Hebrew, they are clearly pragmatists about the game. They seem to understand the value of a loss. A loss is not to be taken too heavily upon the heart, because in the next game you can trick those previously victorious and overconfident into doubling and then doubling again. This is the equivalent of getting the executed to string the noose around their own neck while the hangman sits in the corner sipping an iced tea with lemon.

None of that probably made much sense if you don’t understand the fundamentals of the game.
I have one problem with playing backgammon over the internet. It’s the chat feature in the particular program I use. It only allows us thirty short and succinct messages to transmit to the opposition, inane comments like “Good Job,” “Thank You,” “I’ll be Back in a Minute,” and “Are You Still There?” This is unsatisfactory because I think a lot more could be done to expand the interactive functionality of this program.

How about these additions:

“Are you ducking any rockets?”

“How is the refugee situation in your part of the world?”

“Are you voting in the next election?”

“Do you have an election?”

“What do you think about President Bush?”

“It sucks.”

“He/She sucks.”

“I love him/her.”

“Fuck off.”

One thing I am alarmed about also is that there appear to be no players of an arabic or Persian persuasion. This is so shocking because the game originates from that part of the world. I just don’t believe Fox News regarding all the rich intellectual capital of the Middle East being pent up studying for jihad. We can do much to bring people together and fight this clash of civilizations that people at The New York Times and The New Republic keep fussing about. I would love to play backgammon with someone in Baghdad, Tehran, Karachi or Dubai.

Bill can you stop for just one minute giving away your money and get to work on that?

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From Sexual Reassignment to Finding Acceptance – Jamie’s Story

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006


My brother struggled with his sexuality his whole life. When he was a young child in the 60’s he’d dress up like Diana and spend hours in front of a mirror singing “Stop in the Name of Love”.

He became frustrated with the toy trucks and GI Joes my parents gave him and when he found more of the same under the Christmas tree, he stopped believing in Santa Claus.

Fifteen years later he phoned me while I was living in Baltimore. He’d just completed his second six week rehab at Northwestern after being picked up by the Philly cops while driving in the wrong direction on I-95 whacked on meth and whisky. He called to announce that he was gay, and that he was ending years of self abusive behavior, trading it in for an openly gay lifestyle.

Ten years later he showed up at my front door and sat my wife & I down. He slid a book across the table and asked us what we knew about Sexual Reassignment – sex change surgery.

You see, my brother’s lifestyle had changed when he came out, but his struggle hadn’t ended. His low self esteem and self abuse had continued, masked by professional therapy and prescription antidepressants. He had recently been screened by a team at the University of Pennsylvania, he explained, who concluded that my little brother, now in his thirties, was a classic case of a woman born with male genitalia, and he was a slam dunk candidate for sexual reassignment surgery.

But he didn’t have the money to move forward and none of us in the family had the money to loan him.

Nevertheless, he went on from that day living his life as a woman, waiting for the day he could afford the surgery. A few years went by and for the first time in her life, my sister appeared happy.

A handful of years later I approached her with the money for the surgery. Call it a loan, a gift, whatever, I was so happy for her newfound personal peace that I was thrilled to help.

She smiled and shook her head when I slid the envelope across the table. There would be no surgery she explained. You see, she had met a great guy – a regional director for a large chain of convenience stores, and together they’d bought a house in Delaware. Life had never been better for her and the best part was, her partner was happy with her just the way she was.

It turns out that my little brother, now forty years later my little sister, had gotten access to the internet through her home computer and found that people like her were not alone. She discovered other men and women in the same situation – living happy, satisfied lives in a gender middle ground, but no longer in limbo, loved for who they are, the way they are, by good people.

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Redemption Station

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

Somewhere out there in the nether reaches of distant space there is a crew manning the space station, Redemption Station.

The Redemption Station’s mission is to monitor the Gamma Quadrant and answer any and all threats to the United Federation of Planets. Or as the team of players say “Tell a few stories and have a few giggles”

Redemption Station’s eight member crew, from the United Kingdom, The Netherlands, Australia, the United States and Canada, have joined together to form a bond known only by those who have served together – who have struggled mightily to achieve what others only read about, see on television and dream of.

And they accomplish all this from the comfort of their easy chairs, in cafés and on breaks at the office. That’s because Redemption Station is a virtual spaceship suspended in a time/space continuum on the internet through servers and routers all over the world. It’s the stories of Redemption Station’s crew that provide the real life pulse, drama and minutia that comes along with the operation of their unique vessel.

The crew of Redemption Station is an international group of online role players whose virtual bond has formed flesh and blood friendships.

Romany ~

I have had the pleasure of working with and having friends in some of the best story tellers I know. Over time we have become a family to each other helping with problems and offering help, a shoulders to cry on and laughing together.

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When Profiles Lie: Wait ’til you meet ’em face to face!

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

I scanned the photos eagerly, excited about trying this online dating which seemed to be pouring fish into my net. Can too many men ever be a bad thing? I found a photo of a fit, tanned guy standing on a mountaintop looking like king of all he surveys, he casts a cheeky grin in my direction and I’m hooked. “Scientist who loves to read and has to have his fill of sports, keen sense of humor”. Perfect. I run 5 miles at least four days a week and read everything from the Science Times, my favorite part of the NY Times, to Dave Barry and Hemmingway. Fit, intelligent, athletic and funny I couldn’t wait to meet him and flashed off an email immediately. He was a relatively long drive away but he looked worth it and we arranged to meet for dinner at a restaurant I know in a town about halfway. I was so psyched and with great deliberations I dressed to kill, I was not going to let this one get away.

I took a table near the window, watching with anticipation as an overweight, sweaty guy parades in followed by a young couple clearly in love, will that be me soon I wondered. I can barely wait to meet Steve in real life and struggle to stop craning my neck to see further down the street. “Carrie?” A deep sexy voice whispers near my ear catching me off guard, how did I not see him enter? I turn around coolly trying for a sultry smile, desperate to keep my excitement under control, and there he is, that sexy grin which is mirrored time and again in his rolls of double chins. How old could that photo have been? I try to keep the smile pasted in position. Sweaty Steve. “Steve?” I squeaked weakly and had to cough to clear my throat. I stand up and tower above him in my summer sandals. 5 foot 8 inches? Was that standing on top of the mountain? I am tall so I find it easier if guys are at least the same height as me. Are there more surprises to come?
“Wow, you’re just like your photo,” he murmurs huskily, as though this is a huge surprise.
I stifled an embarrassed laugh, at the thought of returning the compliment, and invited him to sit down because I couldn’t think of anything else to say and I couldn’t immediately think of an excuse to get up and run away.
I stared at the menu, it was the first time I have ever based my food preference on what would be the fastest thing to order and eat. I order salad, no cooking involved, and a glass of Evian. He orders buffalo wings and an entire pig of spare ribs to be washed down with a pint of Bud, “might as well bring the whole keg, ha ha.” Well, I guess he isn’t planning on looking like his photo anytime soon.
“Okay,” he starts awkwardly, “I guess I don’t look exactly like my photo anymore, that was me back in college, a few years ago, I’ve got a few crowsfeet since then,” and he shows me some tiny wrinkles besides his eyes. I laughed enthusiastically, at least he had a sense of humor. I looked back up from my salad still giggling to see him staring confusedly at me. Did he really think that was the only change in the photo? I stare back at him equally confused.
He grins his cheeky grin, “Okay, so I’ve lost most of my hair since then, it’s a genetic thing, my mother’s family all bald as vultures by the time they’re 25.” I smile more gently this time, at least we’re getting closer to honesty.
“Sports?” I asked curiously. “You said you couldn’t live without your sports?”
“Eagles, Phillies, Flyers, don’t know where I’d be without ‘em.”
That explained the bellies and chins, my fault I guess, I presumed too much.
“Scientist?” my voice is weakening again.
“Yeh, work in a research plant.”
“Oh, really, that’s interesting, what do you do research on?”
“I don’t, I look after the lab mice, cute little critters really, it’s important they have a good life while they can!”
“Ahh. And what do you like to read?”
“You know.”
“No?”
“Mags ’n’ stuff.”
“Ahhhh.” I didn’t pry any further there.
“But, you know you have to put that kind of stuff on your profile so women know you have a brain!”
I wondered if my outfit was good enough to kill him at a glance.

“Oh, by the way,” he said as we left the restaurant, “What was with that really odd smile you gave me when I said hello? Just a tip but it made you look really weird and you’re really not so bad!”

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Is the Proof in the Profile?

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

It always starts with a profile. You browse, you read, and if you like it, you connect. But how much does a profile really tell you about a person? Well, some profiles are more complete than others, but I don’t think any really get to the heart of things. A case in point:

I read Stefan’s profile, and it looked promising. Well-educated, a world traveler, a chef – a lot of great qualities. The phone call went well, so we met. Chemistry right away – he was cute and funny and a great conversationalist. Our first kiss was natural, none of that awkward feeling. Several dates later, things were buzzing along great!

And then we were talking on the phone one day. I don’t remember what it was about. But all of a sudden, Stefan’s ranting – Jews, gays, blacks, Hispanics, Muslims… His hatred was non-discriminatory, I’ll give him that! Anyone that wasn’t like him – off with their heads!

Well, I was stunned. I would have never guessed from his profile or our other dates that this homophobic racist existed. Since I have no room in my life for that sort of prejudice, I told him where to go, and that was that!

So how helpful is a profile? How much can you trust it? Do people lie on purpose, or are they lying to themselves when they fill them out? And do we date the actual profile, or the fantasy we impose upon the profile?

How about you out there? Ever have a date that looked good on paper, but went up in flames in person? Funny, sad, scary – let’s hear it!

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Widower finds love: Strange Forces at Work (Andrea’s Soulmate)

Posted by Jeanette Juryea on August 26, 2006

Alan was a 30 year old widower. I was an overworked nurse, whose options for meeting men were running out. I worked in a hospital with mostly women. I ran a support group for battered women. I belonged to a gym that was for women. It wasn’t looking too good for me in the dating department. I had had multiple bad relationships — many of which noncompatibility was the issue.

But online dating seemed scary to me. It took me awhile to consider it. My own mother had stated to me don’t meet anyone in a bar or online. You hear those horrible stories on the television and in the newspapers. My parents and my brother and his wife had such happy relationships and both couples met early on in college. That isn’t the norm anymore. Marriage seems to be happening later in life. We can actually take the time now to try and figure out who we are and want we want first. I just had felt strange because the marriage deal didn’t happen for me early as it had for others in my family.

So I finally took the plunge in September of 2003, and I was on 3 online dating services at one time. I emailed back and forth to different people and had dated one man from the internet before Alan came into my life, in December 2003. His conversation didn’t revolve around sex and actually had intellectual content to it. Someone I could communicate with and actually understood me. Alan had some experiences with online dating and had dated some women prior to meeting me. His wife Laura had passed away from a rare form of cancer and he was trying to move on with his life, as hard as that was for him. Her dying wish was for him to find someone else and be happy. That’s how wonderful and selfless she was.

Alan and I hit it off from the start. He was very intelligent and interesting to be with. He helped me to forget some of what I was dealing with working at the hospital and I was helping him to try to live life again. We both knew that life was short. Not too many people our age would put focus on that, but through our experiences we did. We had a lot in common. We both graduated from the same high school. He was in my brother’s class and I was in his brother’s. None of us knew each other, but we had similar friends. So did our parents.

Things got stranger. His wife had ended up in hospice – the same hospice I later worked for! It had been a dream of mine to be a hospice nurse even before I met Alan. He was very supportive in that endeavor. I came to know and work with people that knew and knew of Laura and Alan. I found out that Laura was admitted to hospice on my birthday and died on my Grandpa’s birthday. These things are very special to me and make me feel that there exist other forces that we can’t explain. Alan is my soulmate. He is the male counterpart to me. I am very lucky and would definitely suggest online dating to people. It worked for Alan and I.

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