The last two weeks have been a mixed bag of results, ranging from horrifyingly humorous to just damn strange. Did I get out on an actually meet? Yes, I did, but more on that later.

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With my ego as armoured as I could manage and full of high hopes, I embarked on an active campaign of review and respond. I evaluated, assessed, and sent thoughtful, personalized introductory emails to many. (okay, ten. Is ten many? It feels like it was!)

The outcome of these tactics? Two emails back with interest and one that was as backhanded a way to be “polite” as I have ever seen. For any who ever read this, a piece of advice. Don’t ever answer an introductory email with “I always email, even if it is just to say I’m not interested. Good Luck.” I’m sure you think you’re being a gentleman, but rejection letters hurt badly enough from publishers, no one’s ego needs that kind of flogging; at least not unless they are into that sort of thing. And that… is a whole other adventure in online dating and a topic for future blogging.

Of the two who responded, I had a week’s worth of great email conversations and preliminary attempts to set up a meeting, and then nothing. Poof. Gone like smoke on a windy day. I’ve no idea if he got stampeded by a herd of rabid water buffalo, got caught out by his wife, or just lost interest, but whatever happened, he seems to have left party. This is not uncommon in the online dating world, but every time it happens I’m left wondering where they went and if they are lying in a hospital room somewhere.

The second response actually resulted in a coffee meeting, Huzzah! All seemed to go well, and despite what might have been a little too much sexual chit chat before hand, the young man was a gentleman in person. Cute, funny, and did I mention young? Yeah. Like 9 years younger. Still, it seemed to have some potential. Several more days of chatting passed, and eventually he let me know in a kind way that though I was cool and apparently “doable” he doesn’t think I’m dateable due to the age gap. Ah well, I don’t think I was ready to paste on the cougar label anyway, despite having had several contacts from young men a decade to 9 years my junior looking to hook up. Where were these guys when I WAS 29? Oh, right, they were in high school. I did learn one thing this week. Women under 40 who date younger men are not cougars, they're pumas.

After less than a month back in the game, I now vividly remember why I opted out of this complicated and often befuddling hunt. Still, for now my ego is fairly intact, my well of optimism still overflows, and I accomplished my primary goal, which was go get out and meet someone new.

If my fairy godmother happens to be reading this; I’m still waiting on that Prince Charming I ordered out of the Wish List Catalogue. I’d be ever so grateful of you could bippity boppity boo him into my life any time now and save me from writing more emails to strangers.