They say that a woman's sexual prime is 30, and a man's is 18 (or something like that).  I guess I can understand the biology behind the age of a sexual prime, but where is there an age-logic behind a dating prime?

I recently went out with "O" the other night.  We didn't really do much, just the typical first-meeting 'date': coffee and a tour of his studio.  I think it's safe to say I am smitten.  However, I have a feeling that this guy is going to break my petty heart.  I met him online years ago and didn't actually meet him until the other night.  How do I know he will break my heart after only meeting him once (and hundreds of text messages later)?  Because he's so pretty.

I also met a bar-back (let's call him "T") a few weeks ago, and we've so far gone on a couple of dates.  He lives up North and is from a small town.  I like him.  I don't fully know how I feel about small-town folks, but they are of a different breed.

Tomorrow, I've got a date with "S".  He kind of persisted for awhile, and I finally agreed to at least go out with him, at least just this once (what can I say?  I'm a sucker for giving chances).

Before you start judging me for bragging about my so-called exciting dating life, I must mention one thing that all of these guys have in common:  they are all under the age of 22. 

Don't say it.  Don't say that word that starts with a "C" and rhymes with Dougar.  Don't you dare say it.

How?  How does this happen?  Is there a shortage of girls somewhere?  Does it read "Desperate for a Date...any date" on my forehead?  Am I that short (short enough to be a teenager)?

I guess for anyone else, age isn't really a number and would've not thought twice about refusing to go out with someone 5 years younger than them, but hey.  I am willing to try anything once.  Or twice.  Or thrice (three dates is usually how long it takes me to decide if I wanna keep seeing someone).

So far, the 'experience' has been humbling.  They treat me well, and they seem to keep coming back for more.  I just wonder what I can really offer to them.

My past is eerily starting to creep up to my present.

Over a year ago, I would talk to a lot of people online that I would meet from the Internet. Most of the time, the online chatting didn't exceed past the computer or even the phone (but I won't lie, sometimes they do, and I have gained some good friends from it), mostly because it was me that wasn't interested. I honestly didn't talk to these people purposely for dating, they were just interesting to talk to because they were strangers. Most of my friends today have known me since grade school, so there's no mystery or excitement. Stepping outside my small and isolated (yet loving!) world is somewhat exciting. Online dating or friendships weren't a goal, but if it happened, it happened. I never understood the stigma behind it: I figure it's just the same as if I walked into a bar and happened to meet someone on the dance floor. Everyone is equally a potential rapist, as far as I can tell.

However, I haven't done that much online dating/friendshipping lately, mostly because I don't have the time. When I was in college, it was just something to do to avoid doing homework. I do still talk to the people I have met online, but I haven't met anyone new. I started talking to this one guy, we'll call him Mr. Soe, two years ago. He seemed pretty nice, and 'not-ugly' in his pictures.

To be honest, it was nice talking to someone Black for a change, because I don't have many Black friends; it's not because I don't like Black people, there just aren't many in my immediate social circle (I blame this on my other racist friends, ha!). Mr. Soe and I have a lot in common, mostly in terms of music, and I guess that was the extent of it. He always wanted to meet offline, but for whatever reason that I can't remember, I didn't have the same ambition. I mean, he wasn't bad-looking or anything and perhaps if he lived closer (he lives in Scarborough or something), I would have met him in person for the sake of boredom. However, in my car-less days and not willing to make the extra step of hopping on the TTC, I always avoided it. But we still chatted once in awhile.

After I put my body through hell at the gym yesterday, Jez called me out to go downtown for some Korean BBQ. Two hours later, I wasted 2 hours of the gym on delicious, greasy, meaty Korean food with Jez and Vicki and we shared a large pitcher of Mai Tais (and by 'share', I really mean that I had a quarter of a glass and the balance was happily downed by Jez and Vicki). Happy, full and a little drunk, we had a nice "Girls' Day" out and about in Toronto, shopping and gallivanting used bookstores (we might have even found the 'infamous' Joys of Sex book from that "Ready or Not" episode when Amanda and Busy find the book and take it to school!).

As the girls and I were walking along Queen Street, a guy approached us and handed us a flyer to a comedy show. I immediately recognized him -- it was Mr. Soe!

"Hey, [Mr. Soe]!"

"Uh, yes?"

"Remember me?" I lowered my sunglasses.

For three seconds he just stood there in silence. I figured he might not have recognized me or remembered my name, but he told me later that he was kind of shell-shocked. After all, we had been chatting for about two years and after all his hounding about meeting offline, we finally did. If only for 30 seconds. Still, it was pretty hilarious and ironic. He's in marketing and does public relations and has also been hounding me about going to this aforementioned comedy show his company was promoting for years, but I had never found anyone (including myself) willing to fork over $30 to go. How funny that we finally met face-to-face, while he was schlepping that comedy show.

To top off my day, V had called me earlier in the day to go out later that night. I had not talked to V in over a year, after we went on two dates. He is another guy I met online and this time I actually went on a couple of dates with him. I can't remember why it never really went anywhere, but I figured since I couldn't remember, he couldn't be that bad. I was actually looking forward to it, and stupidly psyched myself up for it, but when evening rolled around he had to back out. He just bought a new house and is putting an indoor pool in his basement. He started digging today and dug all day and was understandably sore after. I told him I'd take a raincheck, but to be honest, I was a little relieved because I didn't realize how tired I was until my ass hit the couch.

For the entire day, I didn't really stop moving, which is good because I feel a bit accomplished. I think my life is starting to a hit a transitional point where I'm at that age that things need to get done earlier in the day so I can wind down in the evening. I contently spent my Saturday evening like a 40-year old: lying on the couch watching Saturday Night Live, eating yogourt and feeling sexually frustrated.