Mile 2.... and 3...

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Okay, well, mile two went fine... but mile three posed issues. The knee problems previously described didn't get better, and my "oh, just work through it" attitude that prevailed in high school apparently doesn't work insanely well in one's mid-thirties.

I talked to a doctor (which is easy since I only see, oh, about 650 of them every day) and he said I have some tendon problem in my knee. He had multi-syllabic word for it, which translated into layman's terms means "you're old and you can't do that any more". So... running a marathon might be out of the question. I'll keep trying... but things seem to have taken a turn for the "not running a marathon" direction. Bleh.

In other news, well, I don't think there's a ton of other news. Life as a single girl in NYC is distinctly monotonous at times, even though I could probably relate some pretty amusing horror stories of online dating. First off, dating *sucks*. Every once in a while, a good guy filters through, but so far, the best I've gotten is the out-of-the-blue "I think we should take a break" or...cyber stalkers. I honestly haven't run into much in between.

One guy was a "wine expert" and loudly slurped every sip of his wine. I couldn't help but think "you know... I tell my 9 year old nephew not to slurp, and here you are, 46 years old (and yea, that's one of the younger ones that *wink* at me) and you're slurping...every...sip?" Even our dining neighbors were eyeing him. /Sigh. Add to that that the first thing he said to me as he walked into the bar and spotted me as I was ordering a drink from the bartender: "I can tell we'll get along because you have a nice ass."

Fascinating. I didn't know that my ass could tell someone so much.

Move on to date #2... nice enough guy (I think this one was in his upper 50's). Says online that he wants to settle down again and have kids... but during our conversation over a lovely dinner, regales me with his theory that men and women are not meant to be monogamous with each other, and how frustrated he was that his first wife simply didn't understand the "primal needs of a man."

Yea... I just primaled right out of that one, too. Thanks for dinner, though.

But to be fair to the unfair sex, not just the men are slimy. Women are nuts too. Half of them, when talking to them about dating, positively require their date to be psychic... or else they FLIP. OUT. From what kind of shoes he was wearing, to the name tag on the jacket, to what kind of job he has, to what size apartment he owns (note: owns, not rents), what gym he belongs to.... you get the point.

Phew.

So the end result... still slogging through the online dating thing. Hoping is always a good thing. So is looking for a new hobby...any suggestions are welcome.
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