Meeting Places and Romance
New Year's Peeve! Forgetting Self-improvement Vows
Rose Madeline Mula writes: Am I glad I didn't live in Babylonia four thousand years ago. There the New Year celebration lasted eleven days. One is bad enough. By the eleventh day, the Babylonians must have had prodigious hangovers. They probably weren't even fully conscious for the first month of the new year. That's not for me. It would mean missing all those great post-holiday sales. When I was young, I hated New Year’s — the whole shebang, beginning with New Year’s Eve. The forced gaiety. The pressure to be happy! It was all so depressing. more »
Elaine Soloway's Rookie Widow Series: Tommy Has Boundaries; Full Disclosure; Tommy Intervenes
"Full disclosure: I'm an early riser and fade in the afternoons. I exercise regularly but need someone to open jar lids. I gave up my car when moving downtown, so if you still drive, including "at night," you're my hero. Sorry if you're down in the dumps, but I'm looking for someone upbeat. You should be able to text. Please have a smart phone and know how to send messages. I love quality TV. If you haven't heard of Netflix, we're likely not a match. And if you don't have a sense of humor, we have nothing in common." more »
The Seasonal Tsunami of Senior Mail; No Longer a Pandora's Box
Doris O'Brien writes: Casting a ballot is usually a biannual event. But the obligatory trek to pick up our paper-based stash has for many of us become an urgent daily ritual. For some, the habit may have even morphed into an obsession. At the appropriate time of year, for example, we may happily discover a birthday card or two, sent to us by those who still buy and lick stamps. And if we're lucky, the holiday season may bring a comparative bonanza of greetings — though, again, there's always the chance of ending up as disappointed as Charlie Brown. more »
Elaine Soloway's Rookie Widow Series: Pick-Up Lines; All Dressed Up And ... Playing the Field
There may be dates involved; evenings that include uncomfortable high heels (me), dreaded auditions and boring biographies (both) — all while my mind is zeroing in on his comb-over, toupee, paunch, age spots, or other blots. (He is likely doing the same when it is my turn to drone. How can she be so short? Why does she tolerate those wrinkles? Hasn't she heard of hair dye?) Who needs a man? I would toss at my daughters or friends who wondered/worried at my inclination to cuddle with Netflix rather than seek a male in my widowed life. more »