if i go crazy, then will you still call me superman?

so this thing is turning into a diatribe against my continuing (and mostly self-imposed) singleness. despite appearances, i do not spend all day obsessing about men and how to attract the ones i want (like buying frilly underwear; which does not really attract them because they will only see the lingerie long after they have been lured in, um, i mean succumbed to my other numerous charms). no, really, that only constitutes 95% of my waking hours. the rest i spend working frantically in order to produce enough so that it looks like i was working the whole time. devious me.

anyway, as you, the observant reader, may have guessed, despite my over-exuberant use of commas, this is yet another entry about none other than...boys. but don't blame me, blame my subconscious. and some guy named charlie whom i met in the chicago airport near the end of september.

see, this is how it goes. last night i had a dream in which i met a really great guy named john. i liked him a lot, and he liked me. he was very tall, had short shaggy blond hair (the kind that looks nice combed or messed up), was fit, handsome, dressed casually, witty, had a good sense of adventure, and a mischevious twinkle in his blue/hazel eyes. i don't remember much else about his personality because about all we did in my dream was make out. repressed feelings, anyone? apparently, i have enough to go around.

it was a nice dream. and i was sorry to wake up to realize that alas, john did not, in fact, exist. but this airport guy does. i met him this past september when flying to atlanta for a wedding. he started talking to me while waiting for the airport terminal shuttle. we only had about 40 minutes, but i can tell if i click with a guy or not, and there was definite clickage. he was really cool (not to mention easy on the eyes) and funny. if we had lived in the same area and he had asked me out, i would have said yes in a second. i wish i could have had a chance to know him better. he said he worked for the epa or some other environmental agency in dc. i gave him my business card, told him i would be in europe for a year, but i could be contacted by e-mail. he never did write. that is how it goes; que sera, sera.

i sometimes wonder if i do really want to be in a relationship. i am not sure. i feel like that sara evans song, "keep looking": just as soon as i get what i want | i get unsatisfied | hey good is good but could be better. will i always wonder is this the one? maybe when i do find the one, i will know. i don't expect it to be love at first sight or anything, but it does have to be someone i click with. then there would have to be interest in taking it further to see just how much we suit each other, to the point where perhaps love does happen and then one day, i look at the other person and realize, with calm finality, that he is, indeed, the one. i am not looking for perfection, but i will settle for nothing less than my perfect compliment. ah, ye lucky few. hopefully, i will be counted among that number.