Hope Springs Eternal

At least, for the moment it does.

I am...living proof....

A 40-year old CAN still have fun sledding AND live to walk and talk about it the next day.


Isn't my sledding tube cute? And she'll double as a raft down the Delaware. I WILL be going tubing down the Delaware this summer, about time I accomplish a 4-year old wish.

Sledding with my token Jersey male friend Harry Pottypants was a barrel of laughter as well as an incredible workout. The rush of the ride down paired with the rush of climbing that steep hill. All for free! (Minus the price of the sled.) Thank you winter. I can't help but think how much healthier we were as kids because we played outside all the time! We did not realize how great we had it.

So, I've really had it with FaceBook. I don't think I'll be on there updating too much of anything anymore. Maybe an odd photo here and there to keep the growing group of lurkers happy. People who never spoke to me in HS, friending me and then not even bothering to say hello. What is up with that shit? Is that just a cold Connecticut thing or what? I've also completed what I'm calling the Facebook FML* Trinity: the first boyfriend, the college boyfriend, and the ex-husband have all friended me. I keep thinking they should schedule a Donna Conference. DonnaCom in Vegas. I wonder what the 3 of those men would have to say. It would make for an interesting book, or a comic strip at least I think.

Yes, I know, I'm a hard one to forget, and I might be a good one to remember. I just wish there could be a composite of those men available in my life right now.

Which brings me to say, on the eve of the silly, I-can't-help-but watch, fabricated romance of the Bachelor finale, that I have a date this Tuesday night. Not gonna lie, I'm so gun shy after what happened with my cataylst Mr S that part of me is bursting to tell you details about my date-to-be and part of me is thinking that to even mention him is tempting fate's fickle ways.

I can say that this man possesses every quality I could list in a Real Potential partner.

He's from Massachusetts but he's lived in Jersey in recent years.
He loves the Red Sox.
His voice is dreamy.
He likes me....just the way I am...physically. (Hello? Bonus.)
He loves dogs (owns one, by choice, not by default of previous relationship).
He doesn't want to have children.
He's oozing with intelligence...ex-military intelligence to be precise (Cue the MI theme).

So when the world gets to be too much, we could take our pack of dogs and invade some small barely inhabited island country or Bermuda perhaps, set up satellite, and watch the Red Sox for the rest of our lives. There we go, all mapped out.

Oops, did I say I wasn't going to tempt fate by talking about him? Oh well, as Kathy Griffin would say, fate can suck it.

*FML=Fuck My Life. Unhipsters, it's OK, I've got you covered.