“Nice Guys Don’t Necessarily Finish Last, But He Who Hesitates is Lost”

I started my study of what we’ll call Female Seeking Male a few sordid years ago. I like to call them The Lost Years. Even so, I was well-schooled by friends, therapists, doctors, colleagues and bartenders on the do’s and don’ts of the subject.

I read the books: The Rules, How NOT to do The Rules, Finding True Love, Embracing Solitary Life, The Single Mom’s Survival Guide to Dating, on and on…

I even started a club with a few women friends who were recently in a similar place with their love lives. We called ourselves The Divorced Wives Club. Each of us had different circumstances, but all interesting and worth a biography, no doubt. I swore over many glasses of wine and laughter and tears that I would someday commit the stories to print and sell the rights to a Battered Women’s Shelter.
“This book is dedicated to THE DIVORCED WIVES CLUB"

So much for a prologue.

I have had varied experience with men. My favorites are the spontaneous times when they share what they are truly feeling, something more than, “Oh Right There Baby.”

So, in the mixed messages that I have read, the grandmotherly advice instilled and the submissive role I was brought up to play, how am I to go about finding Mr. Right, or more appropriately stated, Mr. Right Now?

Rejection, Ignoring the topic at hand, Moving to far-way states, Not answering messages--this is the way 99.5% of the men I meet respond to me. I am starting to wonder if I am a "But-her-face" Girl. (NOTE: If you don't know about this term, it means everything is just right, but her face is ugly.)
And I swear I am not a stalker. I just expect a straight answer from men and it seems they are unable to share that with me. WHY?


My best girlfriend has a similar problem, but the other side of the coin. She can’t keep the men away. She is as forward and daring as me, perhaps a little less, but is certainly more accessible.
I say that she is Ginger and I am Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island

It seems no one is interested in Mary Ann these days. And it is killing me.