Hoping for rain

Last weekend, for the first time since Mr. Nice ended things, I went out on the town. The past few months I've spent keeping fairly quiet: going to dinner with friends, watching movies, home repair.

No more.

Last weekend, I got all dressed up, spritzed on some Chanel, and headed out with a new girlfriend. And get this....I met an actual flesh and bones man.

It was so easy. After months of dealing with the utter nonsense of on-line dating (correction: on-line alleged dating) I had forgotten what a catch I am. I looked good. Mr. Flesh and Bones looked (and smelled -- I forgot how good they smell) good. We stayed out until after 4 a.m., exchanged some sexy kisses. He even left me a sweet message the next day.

But...there's always a but...

Mr. Flesh and Bones was going back east for two weeks for the Thanksgiving holiday. Of course, experience shows that I'll probably never hear from him again, that two weeks is like a lifetime when you've only known someone four hours. And that's all fine, but what's a girl to do to distract herself?

Easy. Meet someone else. Didn't dating in triplicate teach us anything?

The clouds started to converge Monday morning. It smelled like rain. I logged in to Match and -- miracle upon miracles -- this guy I e-mailed a couple of weeks ago had finally responded. He said he had taken a hiatus from dating and had just gotten my e-mail. After a few exchanges, we've arranged to meet for a drink this Monday. The perfect distraction.

Now I just have to find me a third....