Modern Mail Order Brides

Lisa Ling's [Oprah's OWN channel] first documentary in her Our America series highlighted an organization AFA [A Foreign Affair] that offers American MEN...tours to other countries...this one a Columbian Tour...to find foreign women. Sort of a vacation 'with benefits'. [Why is it that we never hear of women who get involved in 'Mail Order Husbands'? ]

'Find women' could mean just about anything. From Hooking Up to finding a SoulMate. Sounds like a good deal for men. Ten guys r introduced to 100 beauties. The foreign version of Speed Dating?

Like those men who choose destitute women or very young women who can't survive on their own and won't abandom them...helpless (useless?) 'girls'. Must b part of their 'love map' and is, like all romantic connections, unexplainable and originates and controls from deep in the subconscious.

During 'research' for my book, I encountered [never chose to meet any of them] a fair number of guys who were involved in Mail Order Brides.com type dating sites. I pride myself on my efforts to not be prejudice, but I'll admit, although I didn't have trouble understanding why, it was a bit of an effort to empathize with those men.

Don't 'get' the ones who were seeking a 'life partner'. What happens when they lose their translator? They have few clues of the core personality of these women until they can understand each other. Which could take a long time. Think about it. Initially they have a good looking or even a gorgeous woman to relate to [how's that for politically correct?]. And what else can this female do? Cook, clean, watch his kids, b arm candy? Someone as a companion that doesn't comment, complain, criticize? Guess they require these women to keep their mouths shut only in public. Ok...not so PC...onward.

I generalize, but the guys I encountered were mainly of 2 ilks. The never-been's [married] and the guys who've had lousy experiences with girls/women. Some were socially inept/challenged. Others had been married a long time (my definition--15 plus yrs), lost their spouse to death or divorce...and immediately jumped into a relationship --either because there were sparks they hadn't felt in a long time or they got desperately lonely or couldn't survive solo (no skills or desire).

Can U say 'rebound'? Or having been married a long time, their 'picking' skills were rusty or non-existent. A good share of them, unfortunately, chose the veteran 'fun ladies'...many of whom were either bi-polar [one symptom is promiscuity] or shallow-with-an agenda' types. Cunning, clever and conniving, these seasoned scammers r very fetching and irresistible.

Side Notes:
[An Oregon 1st date informs me that ALL male/female connections have agendas, hidden or otherwise.]

Many, many men that were not involved in MOB's went thru this horrific experience. Unsuspecting, inexperienced, naive, or hopeful. Who can blame them? Gorgeous outgoing, fun-loving women who dote on them? One reason, in my book, I warned: 'if they look, act, seem to good to b true, they R ". Run, boy, run!

After these short-lived relationships crash and burn...the scorched guys who don't become hermits, seek foreign women who are perceived as subservient and controllable--dismissing the notion that these hot-chicks seek, at a minimum, a sugar-daddy or transportation to America.

One east coast guy sent me his communications from a lady from Spain with her broken English e's and asked me what I thought. I translated it as best I could. Of course I cautioned him. [Have U ever tried to take sense to a drunk person - whether drunk on alcohol or love/lust?]. After sending her $$$ for her ailing sister and $$$ to get to America, he eventually 'got it' when she had an 'emergency' and had to spend the airplane ticket $$ and needed more.

I'm not referring to the guys that I saw that looked like Osama Bin Ladin--seriously--I still have his photo in my files...

Cowboy,(Chapter 4) married his second wife [he was career military] in Germany--she didn't speak English. Never did fully learn. Went great until some years down the line when he began to understand what she was saying. According to him, she was a total witch...bitchy & ruthless...complete with expletives and rages. Cutting to the chase: she took most of his $$$ and half of his military 'pension' when she left him for another man. He noted that her command of the English language totally disappeared when she was with her new 'catch'.

Of course, that was his side, we aren't privey to hers.

Lets face it: All dating involves risk. Lots of people have 'hidden agendas'. It is very difficult to 'connect' mentally and emotionally with someone who 'doesn't speak your language', and such a relationship may b doomed from the start if one seeks anything other than a booty call.

Eventually, dating foreign women differs little. The difference between men and women always rears its ugly head--not understanding each other happens even when both speak English.

In any dating experience, it's easier to find Emelia Erhart or Jimmy Hoffa than a life partner.

Successful Cyber Romances--Valentine's Special Reminder

About once a month I get a note from past 1st Dates who allow me to share in their success stories...tales that would fill an entire book.

Each wedding invite or successful match makes me wildly happy...

Hey, I told U this Cyber-dating stuff works!

Each sentimental smile mirrors happiness for THEM includes a bit of sadness for ME & the others still on our, so far, fruitless search...

Ultimately, I take it as harbinger of good things to come:

If we do not give up hope and continue to do our 'homework', we, 2, will enter their Xanadu.

This Valentines week, I got 2:

from Byron in Arizona:
I have been very busy...working on a consulting job for the past six weeks....and buying, upgrading and selling foreclosed homes,,,and nurturing a five months relationship with a wonderfully compatible lady who was widowed two years ago after a 37 year marriage. We met on Match.com I feel extremely lucky to have connected with her and look forward to a long life together.

from Bob in Iowa:
I have not been on the singles curcuit for a while now. I got my butt kicked by an athletic and cute female from Ames who ended up being an Iowa farm girl who has worked as a medical administrator for decades. We hit it off and got hitched two plus years ago. We seem to have about everything in common, except that by osmosis she is no longer very shy or has a dull life.

I did propose at a place called Punta del Inca, which is up in the Andean part of western Argentina. In that latter part of the day we hopped off our tour bus and on to a freight van going down a terror of a switch back road into Santiago, Chile for a few days. Then later bought a ring at a jewelry shop from a New Yorker/Parisian/Argentinian whose wife is of the Gambino family. She has accompanied me down there four times and we have a number of friends and great experiences from that continent.

May U find your Greatest Dreams come true in 2011 !

Is The Best Really Yet 2 B?

Ever get scared that 'this is all there is'?

As a parent, I’ve noticed throughout the yrs that each of us is a ‘great parent’ at different stages of our kids. In other words, our natural bent and personality allows us to parent naturally in some stages. Whereas in other stages of childhood, teen-hood, adult-hood, we struggle to parent effectively.

Some parents find it easy to roll around on the floor with their toddlers. I found the stage of early speaking rewarding and surprisingly easy with my son and then again when he reached early adult hood. I felt I had valuable things to offer that he needed in those stages. It’s better for children, me thinks, if a kid has 2 parents (I was a single parent) so that two people can contribute their ‘easy’ stages, hopefully not coinciding.

Which brings me to what concerns me this weekend b4 the big giving thanks opportunity: Thanksgiving. I’ve also noticed through the years while speaking with multitudes of people about their lives that, just as our mind seems to stick us in a certain age (hey, inside I still C myself as 32), everyone gets around to describing a time in their life (their ‘hay days’?)--a time that resonated with some part of their psyche.

A time when they felt, what? Most alive? Most valued? Most useful? Most involved in life? Most successful? I’m thinking of a University professor and author who always waxes nostalgic about his decade in Paris amongst notable and famous authors. Each time we speak, he brings up an adventure or an event from that long ago time. He’s been retired some time now, struggling to write and appears resigned and somehow deflated. I’ve always felt somewhat sad that this stage of his life does not ‘live up to’ past standards.

This week I’ve been wondering if I’m doing the same thing. One of my ‘lacks’ has always been a lousy memory. Every ‘lack’ is also a ‘plus’. It’s hampered my career, but not my personal life (I can never remember why I’m suppose to b mad at anyone and can hide my own Easter eggs. I’m naturally a person who lives in the future and has continually struggled to ‘B Here Now’ as Dam Ross advises.

"Yesterday is a cancelled check, tomorrow is a promissory note, today is cash."

I’ve spent very little time reviewing my past and it’s triumphs and tribulations. I was too busy surviving and trying 2 prove myself. ‘To make my mark’ as it were.

“The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order,…the continuous thread of revelation.” ~Eudora Welty

This week I’ve begun a project that finally got some priority on my bucket list: to note a few major events from each year of my life, i.e. got married, had a child, got a new job, moved, made a decision, etc. Kind of like a life review, an overview of my life’s path, a personal memoir. Maybe to observe the ebb and flow and realize that some decisions I thought were minor actually shaped my life. It is a lengthy project, not just because I’m OLD, but ‘cause I have to locate my journals to rediscover those events.

For example, to sign up for social security I had to put dates of marriage and divorce. I looked up my 1st husband (my son’s dad) on FaceBook and ask him what years we were married (1971-1978). He knew. I knew he’d know, even tho we haven’t communicated for decades.

Here's what scares me. I’ve always believed in every fiber of my being, at every age, that ‘the best was yet 2 b’. That belief (plus my Midwestern work-hard heritage) has faithfully propelled me thru the tough patches and kept my nose to the grindstone and my eye on the goal(s). I’ve always been big on making and reaching goals.

Somehow, somewhere along the way I’ve lost that faith. Not sure if it’s my age or the fact that I now live in the mid-west, far away from what I’ve always considered ‘the action’. Also, in my mind’s eye of ‘the best that was suppose 2 b’ I’ve seen myself as one of those people who I seem to always notice: couples living hand-in-hand with someone who has shared their history, knows what the other thinks and wants and is able to provide some of that.

I’ve worked, schemed, and planned towards this particular ‘goal’ with no success. Why is this one goal so illusive? What am I pretending not to know? What am I incapable of seeing? Is this just another later version of the Mid-life Crisis? Have I learned from my mistakes? And worst of all: Have I already had the best of what is to b ‘Linda’s life’?

I know the solution is a change of perspective, a paradigm shift. But that feels way too close to ‘giving up’ or defeat. I’ve always been invigorated by new challenges. Maybe I need a new project that has some chance 2 succeed. My tenaciousness (another good-bad trait) keeps me from letting go of this particular goal, even tho it is beginning to seem more like a dream than a possibility. Michael J. Fox said on Oprah last week, “I’ve learned the difference between acceptance and resignation.” There must b a reason I latched onto that statement.

“You live life forward. You understand it by looking backward.”

I’d still like 2 believe I can look forward to my Halcyon years!

SoulMate in Training—what I learn from my GF.

We love our GFs. Most times we even like them. At other times they stretch our patience. By being herself, she has taught me how to successfully navigate in a serious relationship. I’ve learned tolerance, forgiveness and empathy; what a close, long-term, committed relationship requires to be successful.

My life is controlled, calm and often boring. I have 3 serious, sensible, sane brothers. I’ve live alone for 15 years. Lee’s life, from birth, has been ‘on the edge’ and tumultuous. Her darling husband seems determined to annoy her. They live amidst a maelstrom of females—3 daughters, several teenage and younger grandchildren--each one clamoring for attention trying to out-drama queen each other. A recent study says that women cry between 23-46 times a year. Since I haven’t cried for years (not counting the emotional welling up at commercials), that brood has used up my portion and many other’s. Bedlam and chaos are the norm. Tears, ranting, raving and daily soap opera antics are played out non-stop. They thrive on it. It exhausts me.

How, one might ask, could we be friends? She daily crazies up my life. She adds worry and stress to my placid existence. But that is not the reason we are good friends.

She is my friend for all the reasons one reads on those tedious, ubiquitous sappy Hallmarkie ‘love notes’ one receives daily via our inbox. And because she reminds me why I augur through the trying parts of our relationship—for the lessons and the rewards.
Consider yesterday. She and her ‘annoying’ husband, who just happens to be, among all his responsibilities, a volunteer policeman, were driving to a family gathering. They pass what appeared to be a lady obviously distressed, sobbing into a phone sitting in vehicle parked at the curb.

I’m the ‘don’t’ get involved’ type. Life threatening crisis? I’ll step up. My family involved? I’ll be there first even if I have to jump out of a speeding car. A stranger having a melt down? Nope. I drive by thinking, “none of my business”, “that’s her personal business”, or “another unhappy chick who had a fight with her BF”.

Not my GF.

“Stop Mike!” she demands. He lowers his window and asks, "R U ok?" “Ye-ss, yeess, “ the woman whispers. “Just having a bad day.” If I were in the back seat I’d be thinking, “Good, we’ve done our good Samaritan duty. Now let’s get out of here.” A cowardly reaction, for sure, but easy to defend.

Not Lee. As Mike, relieved, pulls away, Lee yells “Wait!” She jumps out, walks back to the lady, and says over her shoulder, “She’s not going to confide in a man.” “I’ll sit with her; you go ahead. Come back to get me.”

Reluctantly Mike drives off. If U knew Lee, you’d realize that she didn’t grab her phone. A distressed human is something Lee understands and she’s ferocious in any untoward situation.
“I asked the crazy woman who was on the phone,” Lee relates. “My crisis counselor,” was the reply. Lee inquires about her family. She’s just moved here, “on the advise of my therapist”. Lee decides not to pry, but asks what the counselor suggested. “She told me to go home.” Cut to the chase. Lee takes the woman home. She notices scars—multiple slash marks on exposed parts of her body. Not only a ‘crazy lady’, but a cutter. Suicidal?

After she reassures herself that the lady is stable, calm, and near her phone, Lee realized that Mike won’t return anytime soon. A woman of action, off to walk the 4-miles home. In her clogs!
As I listen to her tale and observe her blisters, I am, once again, reminded why she’s my friend.

Among the vicissitudes and messiness of life, relationships, and personalities, my GF teaches me that ‘strangers’ are part of our family; she teaches me what ‘love thy neighbor’ means. She teaches me compassion, ruthless bravery and what unconditional love feels/looks like. She teaches me that dramatic over-reactions are just that—reactions a bit over-the-top, not fuel for the weakest and cowardly parts of our selves--but food for our souls.

MileStone Moment

Death, Taxes and Social Security

I merrily spent my life glib, naïve and cavalier. I watched the oldsters wishing their lives away counting their days til they were able to get their Social Security…and in need of supplemental income, as meager as it seemed. Why didn’t they plan? No exit strategy?

Enough has transpired to almost convince us they are both real and unavoidable—and just maybe, to be celebrated. One hopes the day will eventually come, given the alternative. Like death, it’s such a shock we can’t believe it applies to us; then we wholeheartedly engage in denial.

What about those people we’ve known whom actually embraced the end? Circumstantial, we think. Must be resignation, regrets or lack of resources (financial, emotional or physical) to continue. Often the person has ‘lived a good enough life’ to concede that since there is no escaping, we might as well acquiesce with Grace. Or, the pain, the conditions make another day purely impossible to continue. Death, they whisper, ‘will be/was a welcome blessing’.

While engaged in mid-series of our favorite TV show, we wonder how there could b a time when it/we do not exist. Jack Bower’s 24 got his final hours on Monday. In 8 seasons, much changed in ‘what feels like’ a very short time (each TV hour was actually a quick ‘real time’ 60 minutes). Jack was our 21st Century superhero trying to save the world from us. Who will help us now?

Notice how Jack aged in those oh-so-short few hours. As did we; sort of sneaking up on cats feet. Where did all that time go? Why am I so old? I’m thrilled to have escaped the Grim Reaper for all this time. I just never really believed I would ever get old enf to b one of ‘those people’ who looked forward, who counted down the days, til they could register for Social Security. Now that was old.

My red-letter day arrived this week. Actually, I joined their ranks a few years back. Counting my pennies, watching my retirement fund evaporate in the financial melee until it was a race to age 62 to see if I would make it b4 my bank account registered zero.

I knew in my head that, given the good fortune to live this long, this incomprehensible day would come. I just didn’t know I’d spend so much time looking forward to it and be so ecstatic about it!

I had a major hint: my personality. In our world, there are future people, past people and present people. I was born a future person…which, like all types, has its plus sides. I wrote lists of tasks to b done, made and accomplished goals and looked forward to the future, which I ‘knew’ would be even better. I felt sorry for the people who existed in the past and envied those who spent time smelling the roses. I, like the happiness experts, strove to find the Power of the NOW, 2 b present ‘in the moment’. I failed.

I misinterpreted a favorite, “Yesterday is a cancelled check, tomorrow is a promissory note, today is CASH!” My version: “Got cash? Spend it Now!”

There have been other MileStone Moments. For those with excellent memories: the first day of kindergarden. I remember wondering what my 1st romantic kiss would feel like. I was NOT looking forward to that embarrassing moment. Just so happens, it came years after getting my driver’s license MileStone Moment. MSM often do not arrive timely or as imagined.

MileStone Moments often show up out of chronological sequence. I did not have time to conjure up a day without parents. My dad dropped dead suddenly at age 45, never having contemplated collecting SS. I definitely remember wondering how I would feel and look after my first sexual experience. Would I look/act different the next day? Will everyone know? I had plenty of time to wonder, as that uneventful MSM didn’t occur til I was 21 and married.

My first job. Graduating from high school. Getting married. Having a baby. His first day at kindergarden. Buying a house. Getting crows feet. A first grandchild. Thanking my lucky stars for being fortunate enough to experience all the pleasures, and losses, expected and surprising, along the path to retirement, SS and the penultimate Day of Reckoning—taking me full circle.

I am still naïve, but no longer glib and cavalier. I can no longer afford those luxuries. I’m still attempting to live in the present as I drag my feet, digging in my heels to keep me from sliding over the finish line.

Dylan Thomas’s poem begins, “Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. "

I’m still on the top side of the grass. I can still have MileStone Moments and opportunities to check items off my Bucket List. Even Jack Bower, and those of us who have counted on him to keep our world safe, will have his swan song—a 24 movie is in the works.

I will look forward to that movie. Oopsy! I will enjoy this moment, this bird in the hand. Given the opportunity, I will enjoy both final episodes.

Bloggers in the news this week-May 2-8

Unexpected Gifts...

Thwarted & Realized Dreams

I know that Nashville is under water. I know the Dow Jones dropped 1,000 pts in mere minutes. I know Tiger and Phil, the thrill, almost missed the cut at the Players. I know terrorists are still plotting our demise. Of course I know it’s Mother’s Day weekend. I’ve been working in a florist shop on that holiday for years. I live that weekend like few get to—basking in the joy of picking out, arranging and selling those tributes even b 4 the Mother’s even lay eyes on their gifts. Lucky me.

This missive is not about Mother’s. It is about mother’s and fathers. It’s about those of us who have learned that most our Bucket Lists can still b realized at any age, with ‘conditions’. We’re not surprised, are we? Life has always not only been unfair, but ‘with conditions’. Alas, many of us never learn this lesson. It comes right after auguring thru the years and suffering infinite blows of disilusionment. If we’re still standing and still interested in growing, we get to ‘work on’ that predicament.

This is about those of us who still tilt at windmills and refuse to let the ugliness of life intrude on our consciousness. We still have a chance at a second and third version of our lives. Many of us, by this age, have suffered unknowable tragedies—losing a child, a chance, a parent, a limb, a home, our retirement, our mind or our health. Yes, life is, ultimately, about loss. Even these unfortunate souls can get to the brink of ‘next’—making them luckier than those of us who have not had to surmount the highest mountains and still find a way to face the next day.

I’m also including those of us who make our own mountains out of generally invisible molehills. We have seen the enemy, and we face it in the mirror. It reflects those of us who lament real or manufactured faults to the point of inaction: "I’m too [fill in the blank—fat, stupid, poor, tired…]" or "I don’t have enough […money, love, support, advantage, friends…]." It's just as paralyzing.

Some of us, after experiencing the vicissitudes of life, have, throughout our lives, altered our Bucket List. After several broken ankles, a torn hamstring, an ACL blown, a broken leg, a bad left knee and right hip, I’ve crossed off an item from my list written in my early 20’s: “jump out of a perfectly good airplane’. Thirty-five years ago when RAGBRAI, the bike ride across Iowa, was created, I added it to my list. Life, as it tends to do with our plans, got in the way. This year I’m planning on accomplishing that feat, altered somewhat given my present condition. I’ll do 3 of the 7 days, therefore accomplishing my goal, given current conditions.

If conditionally is a negative word in your vocabulary, GET OVER IT! It’s a matter of one of the themes of my book—the dreaded Change. A perfect illustration? Think of a world class long distant runner who loses his legs in an accident. The one who now competitively competes in marathons in his (wheel) chair. Think about it. Are U tough enf, persistent enf, resourceful enf, flexible enf to pursue your dreams ‘in altered conditions’?

Another theme in my book is that ‘it’s never too late’; but b mindful that although we have arrived at the moment when ‘our toes curl over the edge of our grave’, we are still on the sunny top side of the grass.

And, all together class: 'We still have options!'

Unlike 56 yr old mud engineer, Keith Manuel, who does no longer. Divorced father of 3 grown daughters had plans to be married next month. Unfortunately, he was one of the eleven rig worker souls lost in the explosion in the Gulf of Mexico--uxenexpected and unwanted dreams thwarted.

Yet, the hills are live with music, even for Julie Andrews, who underwent a botched surgery on her voice box in 1997 and was told that she would ‘never sing again’. Not only a loss for her --her livelihood, her gift, her self-image--but also loss for her past and potential audience. Tonight she will mount a stage in Londo and sing again for the first time in 30 years! With a caveat to her listeners to lower their expectations: “Please don’t expect me to sound like before,” she warned.

Did she play potato bug and curl mutely into a fetal position? No way. After processing her grief, she went on to become a writer, an actress with speaking roles and Dame Andrews. And after tonight, she’ll have become the new songster Julie Andrews, having accomplished her goal, conditionally.

Life is a tenuous, evanescent, fragile gift. What are U doing, thinking today?

The Wistfulness of Boomers

This phenomena of wistfulness is mentioned briefly in my book: “Boomers suffer from a pervasive feeling of ‘persistent wistfulness’. Searching. For meaning. A purpose. A reason for living. Longing for an unfulfilled need. A desire for ‘one final fling’. For one last chance to satisfy that craving.”

Wistful can be defined as a pervasive yearning and feeling a prolonged melancholy for something not acquired, not experienced. This ‘label’ may feel sad and too pensive, too pessimistic and the immediate temptation is to pooh-pooh its existence in our lives. Before you disregard this feeling in yourself, consider that it may be the harbinger of change, of positive action.

There is no avoiding wistfulness, as it comes with the territory. My favorite poem, Robert Frost’s, The Road Not Taken expounds on 'there is no reverse in life' with a situation that we've all faced (consciously or not) in our lives, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood…Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”As Boomers, we have already gone down that road taken.

We have a very short supply of EVERYTHING: time, hope, options, healthy days.

Frost knows that we can’t go back and take the first road. But we can still feel wistful and regret. Our choice is to either harness its energy or buckle under to its weight.

Of course if you are suffering from nostalgia for something past, there aren’t any antidotes.
If you feel a desire, an unsatisfied longing for something better than the present situation, something not yet lived; there is hope. The key word here is ‘live’. You are in the drivers seat. Whose name is going 2 b on your headstone? Take charge of that person’s life force while it is still possible.

U might remember a T. S. Eliot’s poem from our high school lit class, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock in which he finds himself closer to the end than the beginning: “It was a soft October night”. Is that not where we Boomers find ourselves in the relative scheme of life? Three-quarters through our allotted time on earth has passed. He ponders what he’s done and what he could do. At first he is hopeful, “There will be time, there will be time for you and time for me, and time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions.”

Then he remembers how he has lived his life so far, “I have measured out my life with coffee spoons” But then: “And indeed there will be time to wonder, ‘Do I dare?’ and Time to turn back and descend the stair.” He questions whether he has it in him and if, indeed, there really is time, “Do I dare disturb the universe? In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.” He wonders if he’ll “Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? (…) I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.”
It’s open to interpretation, but my reading is that he caves into his previous way of life.

It’s easy to say we will do something different, witnessed in the popular poem, When I Am Old I Will Wear Purple. Will she? Some doubt it. It is not easy to change, to buck the Juggernaut tidal wave of wistful. Discontentment with the present situation can be a strong motivator for change if we resist. If we don’t let it drown us in drink or denial or inertia, or hopelessness.
It takes just as much energy to become a champion channel changer, grumbler, or resister.

If U have a hankering or a yearning to get or do something you’ve not yet done, write it on your Bucket List and start figuring out what it takes to get started. If you are SoulMate-less and haven’t looked, Just Do It! If you’ve searched and have not yet succeeded, change something and get off your duff. Those who don’t buy lottery tickets have zero chance to cash in.
What have u got to lose? What is the worse case scenario? Think about how the best case scenario looks, feels? What would U b doing now if U had that special someone?

An 80-year old woman wrote in a recent Ask Amy column that she’d been married twice and never felt giddy ‘in love’ until she recently met her third husband. It’s never too late, she reminds us. Do U have the guts, the courage, or the audaciousness? U have the time. Do U feel entitled to happiness, to round three? There is an expert to answer that question. Consult the Avatar of that engraved name on the marble headstone.

Go as far as you can see. When you get there you will be able to see further. ~Thomas Carlyle