I met this man through YanikaDate.com and he is not at all my type.  If you read my column with any regularity, you know that I have gone out with a series of schmucks, so using that as the criteria, this man is not a schmuck, and so he is automatically not my type.  I suppose there is a chance he could turn out to be a putz as we’ve all been tricked before, but I have a good feeling about this one.  I’m not sure where it will go, but a friendship is being built and that is a great thing.  I am enjoying my new friend.

I will panic of course and try to sabotage it.  I will grab hold of something silly and use it as a reason to not see him.  I will get scared, get crazy, and get embarrassed.  It’s what women do, and it does not matter that we tell ourselves we are not going to be lunatics, it is simply in our genes and it’s going to happen.  Not much we can do about it, and no point in warning them because it makes us look insane, so we jump in, hold our breath, and pray they are strong enough, and smart enough, to hang on.

I am not a huge fan of Twitter.  I think it’s a mean place and I spend a lot of time thinking about the day I will quit.  You can imagine my surprise that Twitter has now become a support group of sorts.  In a moment of panic, I tweeted that I was on my way to a date, the first one with #2, and that I was nervous.  That led to a series of tweets that took my breath away.  My followers started to send me tweets of support.  People let me know they were pulling for me and that I deserved to find someone great.

I sometimes forget people other than my friends and my mother read my blogs, and that these people jumped in to support me was lovely.  I heard from married women who said they hope I find a man like theirs, single women who are in the same boat, men who warned me about how to spot a schmuck, and young people saying I gave inspiration to their parents.  The tweets made me laugh and cry.  I could not believe this social media site, which had been so painful, was now kind.  I adore these people who have become invested in my journey.

As I turn 46, I find myself thankful.  I love my son and my family. I love my work and know good things are going to happen professionally.  I love my friends, both those who hold me up when I am weak, and those who have virtually come into my life to provide me with light and hope.  Since there is a possibility I will not live to be 92, I am not middle aged as much as I am old, and I must tell you, old is good.  I have overcome much to be here and I owe it to myself to now count my blessings and keep the faith.