The Upper Valley strikes again.

Why does this always seem to happen to me?

You long term readers may remember way back, during my post-divorce dating frenzy, when I went on a date with this guy here, aka You're Beautiful Guy. He was one of many dates but somehow managed to be the most forgettable. For a long time I couldn't even remember his name.

And yet, in the last two weeks, Friendster Guy and I have run into him not once, but twice. And this isn't your run of the mill run into someone at the grocery store or post office. The first time was a couple weekends ago when we were climbing a mountain. That's right, a mountain. We saw a total of maybe twenty people that day. One just happened to be You're Beautiful Guy. Then today, we're at a restaurant about half an hour from home and we're the only ones in this particular room. Who gets seated at the table next to us? You guessed it. Luckily my back was turned and he didn't see me. I saw him via a mirror on the wall when he got up at some point. Given his lack of... je ne sais quoi, I doubt he'd remember me. Thank goodness for small favors.

It's going to turn into a game - where will he pop up next!?

For more exciting "Coincidences in the Life of Sassy Pants" go back to my recent experience here.

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Gone by the wayside

I have no idea if anyone is reading this anymore. If you have been loyally checking back now and again I applaud you. At one point this blog was a therapeutic outlet for me. I'm glad to have a chronicle of my experiences during this time of my life. Now, however, instead of a creative outlet it's more of a nagging reminder that I should be posting and this girl does not need one more thing on her "To Do" list. I'd love for you to explore the archives if you so chose. If you have already done so, here's a brief update: Friendster Guy and I are still together and co-habitating. We are in domestic, but still unwedded, bliss (that status could be a post or two in and of itself, but, as I've just said, I'm done with that.) We're so domesticated we're in the market for granite countertops. We also just returned from an Aussie/New Zealand vacation and if 8 days in a tiny RV won't solidify (or destroy) a relationship nothing will. We're stronge

Making Eye Babies

Colleges often have a lot of rules the students need to follow. After all, a bunch of 18-21 year olds can't really be expected to self-govern on their own, at least not 24/7, no matter how vehement they are that they can do just that. (I was 18-21 once myself so I know it's annoying to hear that. I don't mean all 18-21 year olds individually, I mean when they all get together in one place.) Then there are Christian Colleges which have more rules, often based on biblical teachings and moral dictates. Further down the spectrum is Bob Jones University* which considers the Christian colleges just too darn liberal so they piles on a bunch of morally based codes of behavior. Not to be outdone by the crazy liberal heathens at Bob Jones, Pensacola Christian College goes hog wild with the rules and moral imperatives and makes the Taliban look almost liberal. An article in the March 24th edition of the Chronicle of Higher Education explains some of the rules and regulations the stu

Everything old is new again...

It's been 10 years since last I posted here. Ten. Years. I guess it is true that things on the internet never disappear. I'm honestly shocked I was able to log in. A quick update: Friendster Guy and I split up, amicably, 2 years ago. Since then I've dated 3 gentlemen, the most recent of which lasted a year but once again, ended. Amicably. I'm excellent at breakups apparently. I have just reentered the world of on-line dating and was thinking how I used to chronicle my exploits here. A lot of things have changed in the interim - texting, Facebook being open to all, the ubiquity of camera phones, a new generation of dating sites/apps. But, a lot of things haven't. Men are still...men. The technology may have changed, but the people behind the scenes are still the same. The main difference is that I'm now 15 years older. Maybe, just maybe, I'm also wiser. And maybe, if I cross my fingers really hard, so are the gentlemen I end up meeting.

Big Girl Underoos

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