The Flattery Bath Has Its Drawbacks.

I'm going to have to start making dates with Craig's List guys on Fridays and Weekends. I usually reserve weekends for my son, however I can't seem to kick the melancholy that descends upon me on Fridays.

A creative single woman formerly accustomed to high levels of stimulation, like dance and eclectic restaurants, now trapped in an apartment with a toddler's schedule and insistence on routine...and my son is a Felix Ungerer from the Odd Couple who has a panic attack over a spot on his shirt and will only eat macaroni and cheese...Can you blame me for posting three times within one week? I was becoming addicted to a little bit of excitement.

But this posting/response flattery bath exchange is kinda depressing in its own special way. Because as you will learn as this blog goes on, there are so many exchanges...but so little pans out. All of these men (and this is just a fraction) took the effort to assemble coherent thoughts for my perusal, and many of them never even get to meet me, never get to see a picture. Never get in the door. All of the sudden, I feel like I might have this relative amount of power...and I need to wield it wisely...though it might be illusory...and the essence of adds/responses/replies is not pretty. I.E. replying, "I liked your message, please send me a photo." And he sends you a photo and he's not attractive to me - what am I going to say? There's no good way to do it. Disappointing people or making people feel lonelier than they already do is not a good feeling. So...

I hereby vow to proceed with the utmost sensitivity toward the men grasping into cyberspace at me. How exactly, I don't know, but I'll become a posting artist, and only good energy shall come from all of my exchanges, and even in the face of rejection, men's egos all over Chicagoland shall pulse with pleasure.