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When I posted my angry music recommendation last week, I alluded to feeling grumpy about a number of things that weren’t moving forward at the pace which I would like. And today I’ve decided to be brave (as promised) and tell you about one of them…

You see, I have decided I want to start dating again. Having spent a lot of time coming to know myself better, and living the life I really want, I think what I have to offer is better than ever. Rubi V.2 is wise, kind, and patient — in addition to the good stuff that Rubi V.1 had going for her, among which, being a fine cook, a smarty-pants, and a lot of fun. Hell, I’m a catch.

And yet my experiences since the beginning of the year, when I set out to meet some guys to date, have been a mixed bag at best. In the interest of expediency, I put an honest profile and a decent photo up on an online site. (Of course I know that the world of online dating is fraught with peril, but I’m being brave, remember?) The first couple of days I was bombarded with winks and likes and “So-and-so wants to meet you.” I even got a few messages, though the majority were along the lines of, “You’re really a Buddhist? How weird.” or “What is it that you really want? Do you want sex? Because I want sex!” At the risk of making MamaRubi blush, yes, I want sex. I’d also like conversation, and the odd bit of hand-holding…

Eventually, a nice man contacted me, and was patient enough to keep messaging me even though I had the plague and couldn’t meet for a while. When we did get together, we had a nice, long talk — in fact, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, which happens exactly never — but a shared liking for Baroque Spanish music was an unexpected bonus and he was willing to come to my neighborhood. We saw each other a total of three times, the conversation (monologue) lasting longer and longer at each meeting and then, poof. There he was, gone. Without so much as a thank you for letting him go on and on and on…

So I hid my profile on that site and tried somewhere different. Met a guy almost right away that was such a good match for me I might as well have ordered him from “Men by Mail.” Following a couple of weeks of messaging, we finally managed to meet up, and had what I thought was a lovely evening. After which he pretty much disappeared. (Yes, I’m starting to notice a pattern here.) But this is where it gets really odd… about a week later, he revisited my profile, and even “favorited” me. When I got in touch to ask if he’d like to give things another try, he replied was feeling a bit unnerved and that he’d like to wait a bit… Um, OK? Points to Rubi V.2 for also being unnerving?

Back to Site #1, where I unhid my profile, uploaded a couple more pictures, and sat back to see what would happen. As before, lots of winks, and likes, and so forth. No messages this time, though, not even the Hi-and-nothing-else sort that really makes a girl’s heart go pitter-patter. Nothing at all. I’ve written three messages myself, all to men who have “liked” my profile or told the site they wanted to meet me. Of course, I said more than Hi. I indicated that I’d read their profiles and was interested in meeting them. Resounding silence. Dudes, if a woman writes to tell you that your profile looks interesting, at least write back and say, “Thanks for writing. Although I’m not interesting in meeting you, I wish you all the best.” (Yes, this is what I have written when I get a message from someone I don’t want to connect with.) Generate a little good karma, if nothing else.

Still, Rubi is a firm believer in “no hay mal que por bien no venga” (nothing bad comes without bringing something good along with it). And the good thing that has come out of this decidedly less-than-satisfying series of events is that I have found a an online soul-sister, the pseudonymous Stella Grey. She writes a weekly column called “Mid Life Ex Wife” for the Guardian that gives me something like hope, when I’m not wincing in sympathy. Very worth a read, even for those of you who aren’t in the trenches.

Oh, and one more thing. Thank goodness for cats.


Spotted on the poshest shopping street in Madrid, calle Serrano…

What? No ball-gag?

What? No ball-gag?

The best bit was the very elegant mother next to me, saying to her five year-old, “What a scary teddy”! Oh, and how…

I love Eurovision — I know it’s cheesy, but I do — especially for the acts that are willing to go “all in.” But every year, it gets a little more anodyne, a little more meh. I thought that many of the acts in this year’s competition were meh. Happily, there were a few entries that were willing to maintain tradition Eurovision standards of out-thereness. Here, a brief rundown.

There was this guy. The Romanian (Bargain) Counter Tenor. He’s got everything that makes Eurovision, Eurovision. Disco-Dracula costume. Writhing mostly naked dancers. Incomprehensible lyrics.

Also holding the torch high for Euro-weird, was Azerbaijan, with a guy in a box and a girl with a giant train (don’t miss the cloth spinal cord down the back of her dress). The song was actually decent, and the singer did a good job with it.

My favorite entry was from Moldova. Crazy sculptural hair, dress/prop with elevator, spiky-haired boy dancers. Plus a great song (complete with lyric check to the Maya Calendar), delivered with passion and musicality. In my opinion, it really should have won.

I loved the Greek entry. What’s not to like about these guys?  Their outfits look like modern versions of the traditional Greek army uniform, if Evzones wore Chucks. It features Agathonas Iakovidis playing (I think) a tzouras. AND there’s an accordion! The only thing missing was a stack of plates to smash. (I don’t speak Greek, but I’m guessing that the lyrics were something like, “Screw you, Merkel, you can run our country into the ground, but we’re still having more fun than you, you austerity-obsessed shrew.”) Don’t be surprised if hordes of Teutonic Tourists are shaking their booties to this fun, fun song over summer hols on Santorini. “Alcohol is free,” indeed.

Oh, and for those of you who are into results, Denmark won, with this thoroughly acceptable song. Yawn.



A couple of highlights from the best spam message I’ve gotten in ages, courtesy of someone selling eye drops (I think):

Hopi Prophecy and Planetary Resources, based in Bellevue, Washington, initially will focus on developing and selling extremely low-cost robotic spacecraft for surveying missions.

Within five to 10 years, however, the company expects to progress from selling observation platforms in orbit around Earth to prospecting services.

Planetary Resources thoughts?

I’m guessing that you’re also wondering what Hopi Prophecy has to do with interplanetary prospecting.

Points for plausible and/or risible answers in the comments.


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