ARGH

Remember that blog I wrote that said that dating now was only slightly better than dating in college because at least now I can afford to drink beer out of bottles rather than plastic cups? Yeah, I was pretty much spot-on with that assessment.

Whatever you think might look fun about dating, you're wrong.

Dating at my age SUCKS. Now, maybe it sucks because I might have a teensy chip on my shoulder about the fact that I'm dating at 37 when I actually chose correctly and married the greatest guy ever at 22. I might be a little bitter about the fact that what's available to me - and worse yet - what's *attracted* to me scales the charts - sometimes in the 50+ age range. Really? A 56 year old man wrote me on Match.com the other day. 56. That's only 7 years younger than my DAD.

You may ask yourself if I'm so bitter and annoyed about the whole dating thing why I continue to try it. Well, indulge me a moment to explain my philosophy. The way I see it, you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince. And I'm certainly not in a hurry to meet my prince (because let's be honest, we already know I've met him and he's passed away), but I'm dealing with a relatively shallow gene pool here. There aren't that many true choices.

People keep telling me I'm not going to meet my guy on Match.com. Duh. I agree. But where would you suggest I meet him? In a bar? I'm certainly not going to meet him at the kids' school. Kohler is the most married village in the continental US. Possibly in the world. In nursing school? Well...let's consider the vast majority of the students in nursing school. I can promise you, the demographic doesn't scream of 37 year old men that are on the prowl for a widow with two kids.

My philosophy isn't so much about the frog/prince thing, as it is about just getting out of the house. I might go on a horrible date, but I might meet someone else I like while waiting for my date. A cool single girl that could be a friend. My date could be a bomb but he might know someone that would be perfect for me. Or he could be a wonderful guy that is practically perfect in every way - but more like a friend. (Hello Mary Poppins and Reid B.) I could meet a guy like Eric. Wonderful, but the circumstances aren't right. When I leave the house and go on a great date or a horrifically bad date, I'm getting dressed up. Because heaven knows some days all I can muster is yesterday's mascara, a ponytail and the baggy jeans my mother hates. When I go out I'm expending energy on another adult. I'm going to learn something new about someone new. I'm weeding out what I don't want and what I do want. I'm gaining a new appreciation for my late husband. I even believe that in some ways, I'm expressing that I believe in love because I had it so good at one time.

It's easy to tell me to sit back and relax and wait for the stork to deliver a guy that was as perfect as Jim. (It's particularly easy to say that from the snugness of a marriage.) But the reality is that I met Jim by taking a risk and going to the party that night I asked him out. And I took a risk by asking him out. I don't expect to find another Jim. I was literally a kid when I met Jim. I am a different person and I'm looking for different things now. But I do know that my personality is not the type to say "I give up. God will deliver magic at my door." I think God gives us opportunities to make things happen in our lives. I expect to take those opportunities and try and make a little chicken salad out of chicken shit. (A la the movie "Cousins".)

I'm in another phase. Burning the candle at both ends. Dating. I have a busy summer planned for me and the kids. This is my "I plan to run away so I don't have to sit with my awful feelings" phase. And you know what? I sort of feel entitled to it. Dating is exhausting and it is hard work. But I think it's impossible to forge ahead in any area of our lives without a little elbow grease. You might argue that I could use that potential elbow grease to clean my house...but that doesn't satisfy the inherent need I have to get out of the house. To socialize with adults. And to dare to dream that I might once again have someone to love like I love Jim.