Say what?

"Gail, did you hear about the new name for a vagina?" An unlikely question from my mother. "Huh?" was the only response I could come up with. "I read it somewhere today, I think it was the New York Times, oh for God's sake did your father throw it away already? Why does he do that?" I was still back at "huh?"
Well I know it's here somewhere, I'll find it and mail it to you." I must say I was stunned by her interest in some new vocabulary word for a sexual body part and also shocked to learn there was a new word. This was clearly something I missed.

Was there a re-naming resolution proposed by the religious right ? Do we need "kinder gentler" words for certain parts of our anatomy? Was Clarence Thomas in on this? Was mom on drugs? My head was spinning. I checked the New York Sunday Times on-line and to my surprise there it was.... a new name for a vagina; pop culture nomenclature driven by and again, why would this surprise me...."Grey's Anatomy". The official introduction was Feb 12, 2006,and you know I think I saw that episode but didn't realize the impact it would have on my body. Or vocabulary.
It seems I have a vajayjay. Ok, then. It's catchy, in the same way "rayjay" is. Apparently Oprah is a fan of the word . Isn't she great about sharing? I'm much more selfish and probably would have just kept it to myself. But now that 46 million viewers heard her use it in a sentence it's officially part of the public domain. I am so out of the loop, as according to the Times , it's even been overheard in grocery store lines....I've got to get out more. The article quoted a known linguist as saying perhaps there was a need for a "pet name", a word women could use amongst themselves. I have to be honest, although I talk about sex with my women friends we rarely refer specifically to our vaginas and if we did, a pet name would not be handier and could be confusing. Do men know this replacement word? Is it something we should make clear to our husbands/lovers? "Honey, that's great but could you just move a little more to the left in my vajayjay?" That could put an end to the evening.

So mom thanks for letting me in on the news, as afterall, I was an English major and believe in correct word usage. Shonda Rhimes the creator of "Grey's Anatomy" said "it doesn't belong to me or anyone at the show. It belongs to all women..." I guess I should also thank Shonda for her generosity . But whereas I can say "vagina" I don't think I can say "vajayjay" with a straight face.

Chemistry lesson

Where can I find a science teacher on an emergency basis? I'm desperate. I'm confused. I need a refresher course. Not just any science teacher however. I understood biology, it made sense to me. I loved the word Photosynthesis,it's permanently stuck in my head . I am sad however,because I don't have too many opportunities to use it in a sentence. I have a much more serious science problem. Should I try the yellow pages, or don't those exist anymore? Do we still have phone books? (another subject entirely). Dr. Phil did you ever teach science? How about Mr. Wizard, remember him? I loved that man. I was mesmerized by his experiments. Poof!, liquids appeared from solids, and gases sprung from beekers which floated magically around his head. Nice Mr. Wizard. I remember having a chemistry set. I was hopeless however, the beekers broke, liquids spilled on the floor, my mom got pissed and I never had patience with the directions. But Mr. Wizard I need you more than ever.

I miss chemistry. There's no "POOF!" in my life. Is there a new science I need to learn? I looked up the word "chemistry" on Dictionary .com,( but I believe we still have dictionaries). There it was: 2) Chemical properties, reactions, phenomena 3)The interaction of one personality with another. That's it, the Poof! moment I've lost. It's in the dictionary but gone from my love life. Why? When you turn 50 does romantic exhuberance immediately become rational reasoning ? Will I never look at a man again and feel my heart flicker and my head feel ever so slightly dizzy? At my age if I get dizzy it means I might be having a stroke, and should call an ambulance. Is chemical combustion too much to ask? Is this why men date women half their age? Is chemistry really biology?

If there is a new science I need to learn it . I've gone on what seems like endless dates and nothing happens, no combustion, no poof!, no dizziness, no heart flickers. I queried Nate about whether he believes in chemistry, "sure I do". Except the last time he said he experienced it was 15 years ago. "I don't expect it anymore, and that's ok". Is it ok? Dan thinks, "attraction can change as you get older, it's not necessarily entirely physical. Something else can click." Ok. Michael thinks chemistry is like the side of a vitamin bottle ,a strange analogy but urge him on, "look at how many elements make up the contents." Ok. After all I've excitedly dated chemistry men and six months later happily broken up with them.

It makes me wonder,is it chemistry I long for? Or is it a man with whom I can create history?

Good morning Iraq!

I need a political moment. WAKE UP THERE'S A WAR GOING ON! Have we become immune to the news from Iraq? According to Tom Friedman this morning in the New York Times, the Beltway has. Is it too boring? Are we all suffering from ADD? Too busy ordering coffee? (Which I've noticed takes signficant time out of the day). Too worried about being fat? Too consumed with buying SUVs with gas mileage ratings that hold us permanently hostage to middle eastern oil? This is disappointing to me. I'm disappointing to me. I'm not doing anything either, except arguing with Republicans at parties or anywhere I can corner one. And I've noticed our newly elected Democratic Congressmen aren't doing much either; chickens! The Bush boys aka the gang that couldn't shoot straight have 15 more months in office, count them and feel afraid, feel very afraid. Can you say "tactical nuclear strike on Iran?" Everyone better duck.

I'm going to try and not get too hostile, because I won't be signing up for a course in anger management anytime soon, but rest assured I am angry. I think there is one way to end the war in Iraq quickly. Let's make this an equal opportunity event, the national attention deficit disorder would disappear almost over night. Bring back the draft. Does the war feel a little closer to home now? Our entitled children who grew up with cars, cell phones, designer gym shoes, and organic vegetables will be going straight from college into the armed forces. Still love this war? Still worried about the fate of the Sunnis? Perhaps the President was hasty with an invasion? Feel like shopping for a car with better gas mileage? Oh and let's not forget "equal opportunity" could mean women also. Can you picture the Bush twins in camouflage fatigues? I don''t think green is Jenna's color, do you? Sorry sweetie, Kate Spade shoes are not standard military issue. Excuse me Mr. Vice President, don't you have a daughter draft age? How about you Paul Wolfowitz or William Kristol gotta sacrificial son or daughter? Donald Rumsfeld where ever you're hiding perhaps you'd like to loan us a grandchild or two.

Wasn't the spin , that we're fighting it there so we don't have to fight it here? What if everyone draft age had to fight it there? What then? Are you awake now?

I'ts a mad world after all

It's official the world around me has gone mad. Or perhaps we're in the final stage of the "Fall of the American Empire". It's not due to global warming or some drug resistant super bug. Not air pollution, or the drinking water. Not the disolving of the ozone, or melting ice caps. Not flu from Chinese chickens, or the Ebola virus. Not sub- prime mortgages, or a plummeting Dow Jones. Not the left wing or the right wing. Or even the Christian Coalition. Not George Bush and although it would seem logical it's Dick Cheney, it's not . Not the NRA or IRS. Not my imagination or hormone levels. It's coffee.

Coffee drinks have taken over our minds and sanity. I've witnessed the madness. I've stood in the line . I've heard the language. Do they teach this in the school system now? Is coffee the new Latin? I for one need a translator as the words that are barked from one barrista to the next are foreign to my ears. Huh? is really all that comes to my mind. I don't even think the word "coffee" is part of the vernacular; it's far more complex. There is no "I'll have a cup of coffee". I think "cafe latte "is Coffee 101. And I've noticed that no one in line is happy. They're angrily pushing and making sure I haven't somehow displaced them. Take it easy people, slow down, I'll wait my turn. And you might want to try the Xanax line that forms to the right, I'm not sure caffeine is a good idea right now.

I'm wondering isn't non fat whip cream an oxymoron? Have real whip cream for God's sake, it's all fattening. Half, half caf, what does that mean??? Or grande , but not too grande, a little less than half grande, with latte, half steamed, half air, half non fat, half mocha,... do you have non fat mocha? I for one, think it's all the same drink and no one knows because their order is so nonsensical. My son who worked as a barrista one summer insists this isn't true. He was very good in Latin so I stand corrected. To make matters worse ,and the line a far more congested angry place, parents are ordering these cryptic drinks for their children, "I want a shot of chocolate, but not all the way to the top, with half whole milk, half skim, in a grande size cup but only filled part way , oh and make that hot, but not too hot." What happened to Bosco in a glass of milk at home?

Is this madness or am I the one that's crazy? Am I resisting change? Am I old and set in my ways? Should I speak up and order in this new language? Or does this crazy coffee talk really mean "I NEED TO BE IN CONTROL OF SOMETHING IN MY LIFE!" I don't blame you, I'd like to be in control of something in my life also, but I just want a simple cup of coffee.

The religious left

I'm not a religious person. I went to Sunday school for about 2 weeks but they couldn't hold me. I kept sneaking out on the march from the synagogue back to the classroom . I'd hide out in the village drug store until car pool came to pick me up. Quite a scam and statement early on about my religious beliefs. Well beliefs might be too profound a word for a 12 year old girl , I just didn't like it.

Home life wasn't exactly a biblical experience either, we celebrated Christmas and Hannukah. I was partial to the former as the gifts were so much better and I liked openning them in bulk as opposed to one night at a time. My dad , not being very religious himself, was happy to stop paying for Sunday school and especially the building fund at the temple.

College pulled me even farther away from religion, and truthfully I was convinced I was never going to reconsider/re-exam any of it. I was a girl of the sexual revolution, a one night stand wasn't the sign of a "slut" it was a sign of the times. It meant nothing or it meant everything, I didn't care. "Had a great time, call me",or "I was high, good-bye" . I could handle it. And men are simple folk when they're young and horney, sex was a sure way to someone's heart,; they wanted strings/commitment/wife/children. It was definitely a mating instinct; perpetuating the species and all that. Quite honestly, I rarely got to know someone first, that came later or not at all. I must sound like a cold hearted bitch or sexual predator, but hold on , there's a bait and switch.

Flash forward 30 years and I've become a "born again virgin". I believe, I believe! And my best advice to single women over 50 is to join this church. I have divorced male friends, and bless their hearts, they tell me everything. I have insider information and now I'm telling you... they may be horney but they do not want strings/commitment/wife. This is important, listen up! They just want to have a date and get laid. Getting a man's attention via sex is a very short term device. I've heard first hand what happens, "Why is she still calling me? I told her I'm seeing other women. She always starts crying." "Oh, I knew I wasn't going to see her again, but I had sex with her". " Sue's nice, but Alice called, and she invited me over,so I'm going". I don't know about you but this makes me a little nervous. If you can honestly say and I mean HONESTLY that having sex on date one, two, three means NOTHING to you,... no tears, no "why didn't he call?" no obsessing over every word you said/he said , then by all means have at it. I can't. Oh, it's not for religious reasons, I'd still ditch Sunday school, but I finally figured out having sex really is an emotional attachment as well as physical fun. I'm not ready to cry over a man I just met and fantasized was "perfect", or drive my girlfiends crazy agonizing over why he hasn't called. That feels like shit and I can't afford therapy. I want to know more about Mr. Perfect and I'm betting if I don't have sex with him, he'll want to know more about me.
That ends our prayer service for today. Amen.

Frog Kissing

"It's a numbers game" my friend Jay always tells me, when I whine to him about not meeting men I like, "you gotta kiss alot of frogs". Well I was very bad in math, so the idea of numbers makes me nervous and sweaty. As for frogs, it conjurs up the image of some biblical plague for which I'm not vaccinated. My friend Jon tells me perhaps I'm too picky, although this advice comes from a man who only wants to date women under 105 pounds with small breasts. I consider his remark and think his options are limited and jail bait, but perhaps he's right and I should expand my man universe. I decide I can go older and shorter; this makes me proud of my flexibility. Oh for God's sake who am I kidding, my demographic sucks, men my age want to date women Paris Hilton's age, and flexibilty isn't an option it's a necessity.

Call it coincidence or biblical but a short old man emails me on Match.com. Normally I would dismiss him, as 74 seems really "icky" and 5'5" is exactly my height and I just bought two pairs of Kate Spade three inch high heels that I long to wear. My only flat shoes are flip-flops and it's cold out. But in order to explore my expanded universe I searched my closet for the lowest heel possible and accepted his dinner offer. I never have anyone pick me up at my apartment , this seems unsafe as I still remember the Ted Bundy story, so we agreed to meet at a local restaurant. To avoid anxiety on the drive over I reminded myself to expect nothing, in fact less than zero, zip, nada. This was a calming thought but I still almost drove off the road.

My new demographic was waiting for me in front. I am not a religious person so as I mentioned a few posts ago I don't think I'm going to find a really cute guy in heaven, but I'm definitely reconsidering it because earth has become a test. I know how shallow I sound but this expansion process is going to take some visual adjustment. He looked a bit like my dad who's 87 and my mom who's 5'3". But before I get branded a bitch I knew he might have been looking at me with the same sinking feeling. Maybe he was expanding his demographic also, maybe I was the oldest woman he ever had a date with. Maybe we had more in common than we thought. Or maybe we should both apologize , plead temporary insanity and go home.

I learned alot during dinner; he was an extremely successful businessman who has a plane, large home with swimming pool, travels the world, stays at the Penninsula or Four Seasons, and has dated women younger than myself. See the joke was on me after all! I realized however, with a little practice I probably could date older and short, but when he called the waitress heavy right to her poor sweet,young face I realized no matter what, I could never date rude.

Fractured fairy tale

My mother goofed again. Granted she was busy at the make-up counter of Saks, and shopping the sales at Bonwits but this information would really have helped me out. I hate hearing "pearls of wisdom" from a woman half my age on the Today Show. This makes morning programming too much like televangelism instead of background noise. I picked my head up from the newspaper upon hearing, "Three out of four women will be widowed by age 75". Huh? She went on to "prosletize" that women should marry for love and not as a financial alternative. Mom, are you listening? This is interesting news that came about 35 years too late. She also went on to say that I should be actively involved in financial planning as I could end up a poor widow or just plain poor and alone. Now I'm a little panicky because I re-joined Match.com which set me back the $70 I should have invested in the stockmarket and the double whammy is, even if I met someone he'll be dead soon. I run to the closet to make sure I have a clean black dress.

I can't blame it all on mom, and my obsession with Cindarella. I was from the generation of women on the brink; so close to reality and yet so far. I wasn't raised to work . I don't know what I was supposed to do with my time but it wasn't earn money. If mom was my role model I was supposed to spend my husband's money, a reasonable plan with good perks like: a new car, charge cards, weekly hair appointments, clothes and a maid. Career woman was an option still a few years away. I only got as far as birth control pills, bra burning, and political protests, but no income. I quit taking the pill when they determined they could cause strokes, my breasts are no longer defying gravity so I need the bra, and political protests have morphed into, let's wait for the next election, complacency. So with no words from mom about how to support myself, I married a rich man and thought I solved the problem. Although, let's not place all the blame on mom, afterall dad had a career, and could have mentioned the "c" word as something I just might want to consider. He forgot. Or was working. .

I have a career now, it took two divorces and two questionably small divorce settlements to shock me into the work force but I parlayed art collecting, into art advising/selling. Although starting so late I will have to work until about ten minutes before I die, or just enough time to look around and wish I had started saving sooner. Since I didn't have a daughter I didn't have the chance to instill in her more than the Prince Charming option; a storybook which would have been banned from my household along with the movie "Pretty Woman". I probably would have sent her off to medical, law, dental, business, and veterinary school, just to make sure she could buy her own horse and not have to rely on the Prince.

Mom, it's not your fault for not sending me to the aforementioned professional schools; I was terrible in chemistry so it was never in my future regardless. You only wanted the best for me, and thought a husband should provide it. I wonder however if my $70.00 is deductible?

Rod Serling is that you?

I am a hypocrite. I should be locked up and drugged to prevent me from further hypocrisy. Halloween's coming up, I should go as Hester Prin with a GIANT scarlet " H "on my chest. After ragging at Dr. Phil a few posts ago about all the crazies on Match.com I had a moment of temporary insanity yesterday morning. Ok, ok, I need serious help. I'm not entirely sure what possessed me. I must have had an out of body experience or I was channeling Rod Serling.

Well the truth is I'm was bummed. I was sitting on my lazy ass in my apartment convinced I would never go on another date. I don't know any single men who aren't just my friends. (Don't even suggest " friends with privileges".) When I was in my twenties living in Manhattan, I felt everytime I walked out the door there were men possibilites. Thirty years later I walk outside and I'm invisible, except to people asking for money. I knew I had to come up with a plan, so for starters I began a campaign of asking everyone I know to fix me up. They all stared at me with a blank expression and the predictable "I don't know anyone". How is that possible? 50% of the population is divorced, how can you not know anyone! Is there divorce profiling going on?

I then considered a $3,000 vacation bribe to the person who fixed me up with a man I date long term. I read about this in the New York Times and it seemed like a plan I could afford. I have $3,000 what better investment than in myself. Besides, profit motivation could produce results. I offer the $3,000 vacay to one of my girlfriends, she shrugged and said that it wasn't enough for the kind of vacation she was used to. For God's sake, help me out here, there may not be a week at the Geoge V in your future, but three room service filled days at the Regency in New York isn't Guantanamo. I was despondent from her response and realized I needed new friends with less income.

Begging, and bribing failed, and prostitution was out for the obvious reason that I had no appropriate clothing. The computer was sitting right on my counter bursting with dating sites calling me to click my way to happiness. I was weak, and a bit hypoglycemic as I walked across the room. There you were Dr. Phil smiling in the ad for Match.com; you looked so happy and I felt so over caffeinated. I can't resist you, I need Betty Ford to keep my hand from the mouse. I'm trying to fight you off, remembering the last time I tried this; I'm
thinking about all the "ing" endings, and male pattern baldness under the baseball hats, I'm remembering 5' 10" means 5'6" .... I began to feel dizzy and with my blood sugar level dropping rapidly a lightbulb went off....maybe I should date Dr. Phil.

Show me the money...honey

How many men are dating women half their age? Isn't delusion great? I have a friend who is 61 and has recently started dating a 30 year old. Well if you don't believe me you could ask him because that's all he talks about. No matter what question you pose his answer is, "oh Kristi is half my age." "Yea, great, but who do you think will win the democratic nomination?" He is obsessed with the age difference. I guess I'm obsessed with WHY a woman half his age would date him. I don't get it. I was 30 once, a 60 year old man was my father not my boyfriend. Men, do you think these women like you for your business acumen, politics, wisdom, athleticism, or virility? You know the answer....face it , it's the cash.

I, for one, wouldn't want to date someone half my age. For starters I don't have enough cash . And as stated in my profile I'm kinda cheap, so bribes are not in my nature. And bribe is the correct word. But there is a bigger factor in my reluctance to have a generation x or y guy....PARANOIA. I have a decent enough ego, I think I'm smart, cultured, dress hip/chic, athletic, successful, thin, but I'm not stupid. If I'm out with my boy toy and a great looking woman half my age walks in the room, he's looking at her not me, and I don't blame him. For God's sake I'm looking at her too. What do you do next, put a pile of money on the table to divert his attention? This is not my idea of romance. I don't want to spend my time worrying about how long I'll be able to keep his eyes on me. I'm a realist, worrying creates wrinkles and heart trouble.

Do men not understand this applies to them also? Are they living in some alternate universe? Why isn't my friend worried about Ms." half my age"? How long until her eyes are diverted by the great looking 35 yr. old guy across the room who can also stay up past 10:30? Hey older guy with money, do you really have enough so she only has eyes for you? You may not think about the wrinkles worrying can cause but can you afford the chronic heart ache?

Thanks, Bill Clinton

I owe Bill Clinton a thank you note. I can't speak for all women but he did me a huge favor. He helped me think in an entirely new way. I feel more liberated and less vulnerable; what more could I ask for from an ex-President? I don't know when it dawned on me, what day, what time, what I was wearing, or who I was with but thank you Bill Clinton for helping me decide, like you, that a blow job isn't sex. This is a good thing. Sex is a huge deal for women and anyone who doesn't believe this is LYING to herself. For men it's no biggie but for women it is almost an engagement ring . We have sex and we're attached, like barnacles to a shipwreck, only we're the barnacles and the wrecks! "I've slept with him, why doesn't he call?" "I can't believe I had sex with him and he didn't ask me out for Saturday night." "I slept with him and it was so great but I haven't heard from him." That feels pretty crappy. I've come to realize the more narrowly you define sex, the less sex you're having, and therefore the less attached and emotional you feel. Thanks Bill, this helps me out .

And if any men are listening a blow job really isn't that intimate. Women know if you could do it yourself you would. Life would be far less complicated for everyone that way. The other reality check for you guys out there is that women really are just not that into it. Oh we do it, but if you yank the truth out of us, no one's that anxious to get the job. Sorry, did I say "job"? I guess it can be a time to think, or remember what you have to pick up at the store. My girlfriend gave me the finer tips on giving a blow job over the phone , so how difficult can it be? And face it girls and this is difficult, I'm betting there's no such thing as a bad one . Feeling more emotional about your man now? Bill I agree this is not sex or intimacy, it's like getting the oil changed in your car. Do it every 3,000 or 7,500 miles but no need to cry.

Heaven, the new singles bar

"I'm going to meet a really cute guy in heaven", said Tina Fey on "30 Rock" Wednesday night. Ok, so now I'm quoting tv characters, but maybe they are my new role models. Afterall, I don't want to fashion myself after George Bush; the English major in me just can't make that leap of faith, and I'm historically a war protestor. ( btw as a Jew I'm very disappointed in you William Kristol, Richard Pearl and Paul Wolfowitz). Could it be Tina was onto something, maybe heaven is the new singles scene? Perhaps this is the fate of the baby boomer generation as just maybe we were too quick to pull the divorce trigger.

Our parents stuck it out, and even if they were miserable, and bitched and moaned about each other, they had each other until the end. They didn't take personal happiness as seriously or perhaps selfishly as we did. They remembered the "for better or for worse" part of the ceremony. Me, I have no recall. No sooner did the words come out of my mouth, TWICE, than I was wondering if I really was happy. My definition of "worse" was probably too liberal. Divorce had become a socially acceptable option and as cavalierly as I chose the sun roof option on my car I chose divorce . Now I'm wondering if I'll meet the next husband in heaven? I really should look up "worse" in the dictionary before I even go on another date. Maybe "worse" isn't as bad as I thought and better than alone?

Maybe happiness is over-rated. Is it possible to stay with one man your whole adult life and smile? What did I expect from this institution called marriage? And now that I've been released from the instituion on my own recognizance why do I want to be readmitted? The divorce rate is 50%, that's a lot of personal happiness gone wrong...a lot of sun roofs.

Tina, unfortunately I don't believe in heaven, but am I optimistic you'll find a cute guy there.

English 101, or Dr. Phil are you listening?

Dr. Phil just one more thing. Gotta minute? I mean afterall, I paid my entry fee into this land of fantasy, aka on-line dating. One of my pet peeves is people misusing words. It hurts my ears. I do however, struggle with whether or not to correct someone. I personally like to be corrected, as to me there are few things more embarrassing than using a word improperly. This is an instance where I can take being humbled. To prove my point, when my ex-husband told me "penultimate" meant "next to last" and not "the best or quintessential" I was grateful. I admit I fought his correction for a minute, shaking off his smugness, but hey the guy was right, there it was right before my eyes in the dictionary. I was an English major so I do feel an allegiance to words.

There is however, a new language with which I realize I am totally unfamiliar. It's the language of "ing" and it's spoken almost exclusively on internet dating sites. Whereas I have always thought it was simply an ending to a part of speech, I've come to realize it holds more meaning. In cyber dating it knows no grammatical boundaries, it's mutated into something much much bigger...defining character!

"Ing" is typically used in the profile questionnaire regarding personality issues.
"What is your ideal relationship?", is a common question and I've read dozens and dozens of answers on more than one site, and here's the common answer:
My ideal relationship is one in which there's , sharing, caring, trying , talking, crying, laughing, sighing, explaining, communicating, and listening. The "ing" language continues on with the answer to "Tell us about yourself": I'm sharing, caring, trying, listening, communicating, laughing, crying, hugging, kissing, walking, talking, caressing. Hold on there Dr. Phil, don't answer yet, it just gets worse. "What is your perfect first date?" When there's talking, communicating, laughing, sharing, walking (always on the beach) and thank God, no crying! And last but not least, "What have you learned from past relationships?" There should have been more talking, caring, listening, communicating, sharing, caressing, explaining, relating, walking (more beach time).

My ears hurt! Should I correct these people? Would it be constructive to call the date who said he loved "talking" to me and thought we were "relating" so well he asked me out and then stood me up, to tell him he was "lying"? Or is that too much "sharing"? I'll NEVER forget the widower who told me that the best thing that ever happened to his marriage was his wife "DYING".

"Ing" is a very hard language; much more difficult than it seems. If it was spoken correctly no one would be divorced because there really would have been: caring, sharing, talking, communicating, explaining, listening, hugging, kissing, far less walking, and more screwing.

So Dr. Phil, after listening to all of this you have a lot of explaining to do.

Statistics and.Dr.Phil

The smiling face of Dr. Phil kept popping up on my computer screen. It seemed he was the new "voice" of Match.com and I assumed from all the advertising ,I was supposed to take joy and comfort in this news.  Finally someone who could find me a date? Should I sign up again because Dr. Phil is a difference maker? I wondered if he'd be sitting up nights cross referencing my questionnaire and getting to know the true me.  Could he find my man, because I sure as hell couldn't. I've tried before and I hoped that this new improved Match.com would let the doc yell at men through the computer screen when they lied on their personal profile, or reach out and slap them back into reality.

Dr. Phil, dating guru ,tell me this, why don't men answer honestly? The questions aren't tricky. Not one person I met resembled the information they gave. In college it was called cheating on a test. There should be a web-site where profile abusers are "wanted" or a cyber citizen's arrest. After three tickets you're banished from the internet and forced back to the land of personal ads. The Doctor could be captain of the dating police.

I didn't get it. If you're bald, is wearing a baseball hat in all of your profile pictures fair? Are you never planning on taking the hat off? Do you sleep with it on? Have sex with it on? What if we meet on a really windy day? No offense hat guy but it is a leap of faith from the cutie in the Yankees' hat with brown hair around the edges to "male pattern baldness". Please, I beg you avoid the element of surprise!

The height question seems to be a real challenge for men. How tall are you isn't a test of one's imagination. Height is a number not wish fulfillment. If for some reason you don't know, use a tape measure or mark the wall like mom used to do. The question is not , what height do you want to be?

I found a man on a dating site, who looked pleasant enough, he was in tennis clothes standing by his car. He listed his height as 5'9" . That's ok with me, and I agreed to meet him for a drink. I arrived at the bar, he recognized me and stood up to introduce himself. A man who looks me straight in the eyes is 5'4 1/2". My skirt length would be perfect for him. I could wear his jeans without shortening them.  He is not 5'9". I'm sorry you want to be taller, so do I, but if you're not that 5'9" person at least be an honest one.  Internet dating math has replaced the "new math" that came into vogue when I was in 2nd grade. I didn't get it then and I don't get it now, but I believe the formula is ,their stated height minus 2 1/2 inches equals the man waiting at the bar.

Surprisingly men lie about their age. I thought that was the exclusive domain of women and yes, we are allowed.  Men aren't.  Isn't it enough that they can pull off gray hair successfully? I went out with a man who in "profile" life was 66 but in real life was 76.  That was quite a fudging of the numbers or was he becoming senile and forgot?  

 I just had one more quick math question for the Doctor, how could he find me a man when statistics say it was more likely that a woman my age would be hit by lightening than find a partner?  

I watched the news today oh boy

For God's sake as if it wasn't bad enough that last week I learned having even 1 drink can raise the rate of breast cancer in women, now some bozo has written a book that carbohydrates can kill you! Huh? I can't drink, and now I can't eat a piece of bread or an Oreo. Is this a life? Oh , did I mention the author says that since exercise makes people hungry, which makes them want to eat, and can therefore make them fat, perhaps we shouldn't exercise either. Come on now, enough with the pretzel logic. This means that the exercise we're all obsessed with because it lowers cholesterol, blood sugar, blood pressure and just about all bodily processes that need to be lower, is bad. I need a drink. I feel very anxious. I'm a runner, I'm hungry. My refrigerator holds the one food group that makes me happy; carbohydrates. By the way I still have two bottles of white wine in there, so I'm blowing off last weeks alert.

And Thank the Lord I'm no longer raising children, because it just gets worse (I should obviously stop watching the news , it makes me too emotional). It seems that high fructose corn syrup is the culprit that's making children fat and it's in EVERYTHING! There on my tv screen is a mother reading the ingredient label on the sides of cans. What kind of life is that? I can hardly see the labels no less read them. This must be why there's menopause, because we're too old to read the ingredients and therefore too old to have children we have to feed. It makes sense and explains the memory loss.

No wine, no carbohydrates, no exercise, no high fructose corn syrup (I'm assumimg it's just a matter of days before I hear this applies to adults also), is there a reason to get up? What's left for me, Shirley Temples, tofu, lying down, and lima beans? I vow to stop watching the news.