Fickle

Anyone who knows me well realizes that I am mostly attracted to older men.


Can't help it. There's just something about a receding hairline that makes me a little weak in the knees. Never mind the curmudgeonly attitude. I loves me some curmudgeon.


Well, not really. I like the confidence, the better social skills (for the most part), the ability to actually listen instead of just talk. I like a man who doesn't act like a little boy. Intelligence and thoughfulness carries much more weight with me than swaggering bravado.


So, at the watering hole the other day, I was asked out by gentleman who bears a passing resemblance to a certain singer song-writer that I have an enormous crush on.


I nearly broke my own damn rule. In some ways, I wish I had.

And speaking of my crush, I really, really want to do this. I know that if I spent seven days with FJE, (and 68 other people) he would fall in love with me.

Problem is, the week would cost $3,500 CAD. Plus drinks and gratuities.

Yikes.