Honesty first: I'm a quiet, cynical writer, going back to college in a bid to change professions. I've been spending so much time writing on others' lives, I've neglected to live mine. I haven't had a relationship in eight years. Why so long? Part of it was being a workaholic, getting college and real life down. Real life also sent me to out of the way places. After getting bought out of good job and then getting hit with a cancer scare around my 29th birthday, I've decided to relook into the dating game. Grudgingly.

They said I had imagination, a sense of humor (describe it as a rocky road, dark flavored chocolate with goofy marshmallows and a nutty observation here or there), passion, a great kiss. I never understood pick up lines or that nonsense, so my approach is different.

I'm looking for someone who can hold the interest, hold hands, show what I've missed out, before I get too old and fat. Being a dark or red haired girl with a sense of humor, an engaging smile and imagination wouldn't hurt, but I'm open to whoever you are, as long as you're not a fool full of yourself.

After emails and phone call or two, set something up. I'd say meet in the afternoon, a cafe. Talk for a bit, get deeper in the questions and observations, watch the expressions you can't get online. Then go spur of the moment -- examples: take a walk, lounge on a park bench or head over to a coffee house sofa and chit-chat, look at a movie that's at a nearby theater, browse the junk sold to us, head off for some event, or grab a small dinner with a glass of alcohol (sorry, not a wine drinker).

Chance. Sometimes that's how the best (or worst) things happen.