I have a cat in quarantine for possible rabies until 9/16. so far, so docile and lovey.
I am still off the market for aught but friends and previous lovers. Life's gotten too complicated for me to feel free to start something new.
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Quickmatch: What you write is what I see. You can look like a bum or a god. I'm going by your ability to string words together coherently. I find that a good guide to friendship.
Photo Crap: Someone recently commented that my photo looks young. I am lazy and don't update what I look like. They look at that flattering picture that's nine years old. I don't bother to update because I have little interest in what I look like. Yeah, I still look young for my age and get pimples and wrinkles together. My face doesn't look much different. Smile lines. Gravity lines. No crowfoot wrinkles so far. Crepe-y neck and double chin. No intentional tan. I've not bleached myself blonde in over a year. So I'm streaky mouse brown/grey. Or chestnut/silver. My white hairs are very white. At least it's shiny. It's thinning. and getting curly. I don't regularly do more than lipstick. I think it's an over 40 thing. After 40, insecurity causes me to wear lipstick, until I get into what I'm doing and forget about what I look like. Cripes. I put on lipstick to go dumpster diving. my head looks like me.
The body is another matter. My fat has migrated wildly in distribution, and I don't approve. Is there an option to estrogen therapy? Would it put it back where it used to be when I had those awful menses? Good thing I don't care what I look like as much as I care who I am.
If my looking trendily hip matters to you, I'm not the one you're looking for.
I do wonder what comes up on this screen.
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Is there a finite number of questions to ask a potential date /mate that are relevant to getting along in your own bumpy way?
I'm assuming two more-or-less grown-up, out-of the-nest sorts, who may have been through one or more marriages and children, or not.
Most of the new questions I'm seeing are really lame and unimportant. Uhh, IRRELEVANT! New question after new question. Irrelevant. Just not worth asking.. Maybe the new questions are exhausted.
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This is long. If I said I was simple it would be a lie.
Damn! I finally have a good question to submit and can't find where to do it and have to poke laundry.
Do you know how to fold a fitted sheet into a stackable square? Can you do it in under two minutes?
c) I only have one. It gets washed and goes back on.
d) I wad them up and dump them in a drawer.
I think it is a trivial but telling question.
That I have no clue what my husband does for his pay, and don't require it, seems to be a "must" around here. It's like the Mafia Wife. You smile and don't ask questions.
I've been hanging around this website since 2003 or-04, and have found 2 or 3 good relationships, a couple that went sour, and a lot that petered out before they began. That's okay, I think. I've read a lot of profiles, and learned a lot about what other people think like. I'm guessing that they, like I, are putting their best selves forward. We can all check each others' linens later if it becomes relevant.
The three words: I am ironic, iconoclastic, and literate, mostly.
Call me "negative" and I will downgrade you in my estimation of your depth of ability to look hard at the world. I just find neither Truth nor Beauty to be all sweetness and light. Not to denigrate sweetness and light. I like them right well. I just know that they are not good for painting over disgusting truths or dark, twisted beauties. How many sides does a question have? Often more than twenty, I've found for some.
The "details" section is inadequate. I am married 17 yrs. (who'd a thowt?), and intend to stay that way with this husband indefinitely. He has health insurance. This marriage's contract included a non-monogamy clause. Read that again. I married someone who is as non-possessive as I. It's NOT a "lifestyle", ThankYou. I have a history of sexual infidelity, and I refuse to lie about it anymore. I exercise that agreement with great caution and discretion. I did not at all for the first five years. Non-monogamy does Not equal Promiscuity. I was polyamorous before there was a word for it. Probably why I haven't contracted anything (except Chlamydia, maybe once, 25 yrs. ago.) ever. I am cautious when it comes to exchange of bodily fluids beyond saliva. There: You've been warned. I'm not casual when sex is part of the question. No. I've aspired never to become a disease vector.
I am always open to friends who want a walking or talking buddy. Ehh, that's how the best things begin. Longest is Mom. Friend and Boss (not for 18 yrs.) sort of combined at the same time. Hard to explain.
So I am sort of available if you suit me wonderfully, and I suit you thus. The odds are against this, but miracles happen, so I'm told.
I wot well that I'm not meat for most men's palates. But for some I seem more than mete. Tasty, even. If you understood that pun, send me a message immediately. Definitely, even. Such are few and far between, and usually live somewhere far away; like 2 or more hours.
I am a huswif. I "cook and sew, make flowers grow" and do laundry (Stains are a specialty. I get into "things". I've gotten blood out of a turquoise shirt without damage. Wish I had done better on that Tilley. Definitely send a message if you know how to get tomato leaf stains out.).
"Self summary". Self-advertisement. This is tough for someone who's her own harshest critic. I'm supposed to say what's lovely about me?! To cause someone to want to meet me?! That's bragging and boasting, the very things that have gotten me in trouble with people since I was 3, and learned to tone down by age 10.
I have a fine sense of fun, if you're a geek. I'm not a computer geek, I'm a biogeek. 'Fun' is a word as ill-defined as "love" and "friend". Fun is identifying mushrooms, moss, lichens, wildflowers, birds, and insects, and looking up their particular habits, habitats, and life cycles. Cultivating some of them. Watching birds nest, and babies fledge. I have held a fledging cardinal in/on my hand, and thought my heart would stop with wonder. Watching turtles, frogs, and fish, and looking up theirs, though most of those are familiar.
Microbiology and genetics are fun. Blood borne pathogens are fun. I can have fun doing home repairs in the company of a friend I love, such as my husband or neighbour who knows what I'm doing. Or gardening, or building something. I triumphed over my toilet with strength and WD 40. I'm pretty good with adhesives, too. I will fly kites, though I'm out of practice.
I got to liking well the guy who helped me rebuild my (necessary) deck in the middle of nowhere when I was 28. Not in any romantic way. He was admirably inventive and competent. "Competent" is, by the way, the highest of praises. As "useless" is condemnation. "Inventive" is competence an order of magnitude better when combined. Jim Starley (may he always please his lady) slung a fiberglass roof under an open deck to channel the water away from the foundation. I got good with a hammer and familiar with creosote. In retrospect, I should've stayed there. The guy I left for was a bad one. (Note to self: Do NOT MARRY NEW ENGLANDERS!) I think I'm safe from that now, but might fuck up again if I'm eighty and forget my past.
"Like" is default for acquaintances. By the time I think of you as 'friend', Agape has made her magic. English is too short of words to distinguish between 'have warm fuzzy feelings and want to hang out with you with no sexual anything involved' (like my friend up the street), whom I love, and 'I'd like to get to know you better with an aim to bedding you sometime if it works out that way.' There's 'I'd fight to the death at your back for what we believe in.' or '...because I don't want to live without you' love. All we've got is 'love' for all kinds of different feelings. Cripes. English words are sometimes such a blunt instrument. And specifically defining one's friendly feelings can only come out long-winded and clinical. Not friendly-sounding.
I am a very anniemal ichanthrope. I understand the earth and its life forms well as any non-specialist. I ran a non-chain family pet shop for 12 yrs. Worked it for 20. Pet shops are almost as crazy as waitressing. A waitress is between the cook and a hungry customer's food. A pet store keeper is between a customer's money, love for a non-human, and conscience, maybe. Keeping pets ain't cheap. I've been called upon to do it. Ask "Stumpy". I amputated a cockatiel's plainly gangrenous foot. Sterile razor blade. I observed sterile dressings changed often. (God bless Kim.) He healed cleanly , I built him a suitable peg leg, and gave him to a very sweet lady who was a regular (she'll buy more bird food [cackles mercenarily.]), and thought he was just dishy. Stranded in the field with nothing, I wouldn't do anything blatantly stupid, and would probably be the best untrained person to call for, since my first aid kit is always up-to-date and comprehensive--for first aid. I haven't a veterinarian's training or access to useful drugs, even if I do know how to use most of the basics. Useful information on the more advanced ones is denied me by their cabal. How they stay expensive, yes?
I love beads and shiny things. Not all that glitters is gold; cheap plastic glitter glitters. Swarovski is excellent. Value is in sensible investments. I am not fooled. Glitter is fun. It's part of merriment. When I feel festive, I glitter up. Then I get it all over, and it makes me smile.
There are investments I hope will sustain us when we're very wrinkled (not lately). I want us to retire to the Marquesas.
Self-summary...I can't make up my mind what I want to eat or wear sometimes, and yet can be utterly decisive in an emergency. Calm and cool and make sure all are safe. I shake later. Just sit down and quiver all over. After all I can do has been done.
I regularly have one cat and a standard poodle sleeping 'round me, comforting and drawing comfort from me. My bonny wee beasties love me as I do them.
I can't answer most 'yes/no' questions. Truth is seldom absolute, and the grey area is where conciliation (peace/love/joy) lies.
People here are so disconnected except for their short web. I don't have a defined web, so I pluck at theirs. My web is big and random. (I identified with Charlotte. I once 'spun' a web of nylon thread and many knots all over my bedroom. I was 8 or 9. It's tougher than you think.