This just occurred to me! One of the biproducts of wading about in the dating pool as long as I have, besides the prune fingers (oh, that sounded dirtier than intended [heretofore "TSDTI"]), is the theorizing. I've been dating actively for seventeen years now, which means I've kissed and argued and swapped bites of food ("here, you HAVE to try this!") and sat in darkened movie theaters with a great number of people. And even though each person I've dated has been different and absolutely unique and his own, beautiful snowflake, still, due to the sheer numbers involved, a person, this person, begins to notice patterns.

I don't know if it's my innate and singularly feverish love of building theories or if it's a core human need to feel like all these many varied experiences are adding up to something concrete, but I like to take these patterns I notice and turn them into plans of action, do-and-don't recipes for Next Time. The danger of this kind of thinking -- and here, here is my thought for today -- is that you can fall so in love with your theories that if someone comes along who doesn't fit in with the ever-narrowing criteria of suitability, it's easy to be tempting to nix the boy to preserve the theory, like throwing away data that doesn't support an hypothesis. And, I don't know, maybe that isn't the best science.

Meanwhile: l've noticed that New Yorkers are about as retardative regarding the pronounciation of "Houston Street" as San Franciscans are about "Frisco."

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)