No schlock-song memory

I have done the "friends" thing all my life. It was a strange talent, to be able to retain a good connection with someone with whom I may have had a more intimate relationship earlier. For a while, some of my best friends were former girlfriends, and some still are.

This isn't going to happen with Penny. I stepped back, looked at her life, and said, "is this someone I'd have chosen to be friends with if the physical relationship and attraction had never been there?" And I said, "no."

Nope. She has a pleasant little suburban life, a neatly kept house, a generic sort of car, a job that keeps her busy, but she doesn't do anything that really catches my brain. Sure, lots of things to catch my body, but the connection to the intellect just... isn't there.

I love women that are fiery -- interested in many things, intensely curious, witty (in a real way, not in any way that your aunt would forward to you in an email, nor in any way that would appear in a greeting card or Reader's Digest), opinionated, driven by the need to learn and explore.

Penny can't even remember the names of the schlocky Seventies pop songs she likes.

It's time to move.

I am forgoing my boxing fix to meet a woman in DC who sings professionally and has three cats. Alas, she lacks a car, so the chances of long-term romance are damn near zero, but it's a learning thing for me.

Plus, she may bring out what you might call my "bi-curious" side. In other words, she is bi, and I am curious about that.

Stay tuned...