A little about me...
I'm a grown up tomboy with curves and a good arm. I'm a writer who makes my living talking to people who usually speak in monosyllables, if not grunts. So I prefer the other men in my life to actually converse, preferably not just about sports though I can talk the talk. I am a New Yorker who ended up in Washington when maybe one restaurant stayed open later than 10 p.m. I grew up going to Sardi’s and Broadway shows and took my favorite pillow to the opening of "The Music Man" when I was five.
I am grateful for (and proud of) my two kids, my loudly affectionate dog, and my friends who keep me busy but don't like to hold hands. My last beau called me satin and steel, which is the nicest thing anyone (male) has ever said to me.
About the one I'm looking for...
I am not looking for a gym rat. I am looking for someone who wants to explore parts of the world I have not yet discovered--the far east, China, New Zealand--and the parts of ourselves we have not yet discovered. I’d like to find someone to grow old with who makes me feel young. Wouldn’t we all?
I'd just like to add...
I love Skee Ball and ping-pong, Yankee games, the Cape Cod League, and sunsets over Cape Cod bay. Because I work with words-which too often atomize with the click of a mouse-I crave tactile. I love to get my hands dirty: pulling weeds and picking blueberries for breakfast from the garden; schlepping glacial rocks up the stairs from the beach; and, God help me, junking in the dump to find pieces for the wood and metal sculptures I make for fun. (I am looking for a welding class).
Also, I always get my hands dirty cooking. I am tired of everything I know how to make, though my kids and friends are not, and prefer now to create new dishes, most recently an eggplant soup made with ginger and thyme. I prefer red wine always, have developed a taste for Bison Grass vodka, but mostly drink New York seltzer.
I love architecture and 20th century design (Frank Lloyd Wright, Josef Hoffmann) and would have been an architect if I had any math skills, which I don’t.
Shalom Aushlander makes me laugh out loud, a boy toy essential. (“Voltaire, on his deathbed, was asked to repudiate the devil. Is this, Voltaire asked, a time to be making enemies?”) Mitt Romney makes me cry.
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