Ok, so I went out on my blind date last night, he turned out to be a really nice guy, and . . . . screw this . . . he made it clear he's not interested, so I figure that frees me up to be honest. I got to the restaurant a few minutes late and he was sitting at a table having finished most of a glass of wine. He's 48 and kind of cute in a chubby sort of way. Within 3 minutes of my sitting down, before I even had a glass of wine, he was telling me about his recent stool sample. It seems he had not bothered to read the instructions, and had failed to abstain from eating red meat for 24 hours, so the sample came back "positive" - I assume for blood or protein or something. So . . . as a result of this false positive, the doctor recommended a colonoscopy and a scope down the throat which ran him $4,200 . . . about this time my glass of pinot grigio arrived.

Next up I heard about the therapy he is undergoing for his tennis elbow. The therapist is providing some sort of ultrasound treatment, which he swears is unbearably painful and worse than anything I have possibly ever experienced. He then paused, and noted that he understands that women sometimes have to go through procedures that are painful, so maybe I have had a similar experience. (Me - to myself - buddy, have your urethra widened by having ever larger metal rods inserted and then talk to me about painful procedures.)

From here we discussed our health insurance policies. Since mine is consideably cheaper than his - and has better coverage - he wanted to know if this was because I had waived pregnancy coverage since I'm too old to have babies. . . . I could go on, but you get the picture. He ordered himself a second glass of wine, made it clear that I wasn't welcome to order a second glass, and I was out of there about 7. I didn't offer to pay for my glass of wine . . .

On a happier note, here is a photo from a couple of years ago of me snorkelling off the coast of Lanai!