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There is a lot written about the magic surrounding the number three. Good things, bad things, sacred and evil things. What I know is this: I have had three dates with Brooklyn Boy in 4 days. I don’t normally have two dates with anyone in one week, let alone, three in 4 days.  Let alone, canceling dates with one individual to go out with another. Let alone, Let alone, Let alone.

Google turns up many things regarding the significance of the number 3. One of my favorites was the Three Gifts of Grace. I feel that these are symbolic of the cards we hold in our back pocket whenever we go on a date. We have Faith, Hope and eventually, perhaps, if we are lucky, we have Love.

The first gift is that of Faith. A belief that is not based upon proof. A trust in an individual. Faith in a process, in a cup of tea, in the honest truthfulness of words that each of you say and in the way your body confirms or denies your words with its actions.

The second gift is that of Hope. To believe, desire, or trust. Hope exists as you let go and give in to faith. As you look at the individual before you and hope that all will be, as it should, as it is meant to be.

The third gift is that of Love. A profoundly tender affection. What is there to say of this gift? Most of us believe that we have felt it, experienced it, and shared it. Sometimes, as we mature, often in fact, we realize that what we once thought was love, truly wasn’t. This occurs when a richer, more truthful and accepting love comes into our lives, providing us the ability to reflect and to grow.

I’m not sure where any of this is going. This journey of mine, your journey, or of our mutual journeys… all bound up together. I spent two hours curled up in a bookstore with Brooklyn Boy yesterday. We whispered, laughed, talked and kissed, our modus operandi; beverages and then a bookstore floor. A stuffed green dinosaur, a kids toy, abandoned in the stacks of self-help books, stared down at us and watched as we became familiar with one another.  A bookstore feels like the right place to explore each other, discuss lofty ideas, philosophical  quandaries, romantic overtures.  Surrounded by musty scented tomes of poetry, sociopolitical discord, crafting and humour. Books older than our grandparents, in languages we rarely hear spoken, written in voices that will sadly be lost due to the modern dilemma of convenience via digital lifestyles. The next generations may never hold a real book in their hand, smell it, and peruse book stores in dreamy fogs thinking of all of the hands that a particular Walt Whitman 1st addition might have gone through, or the well-worn hardcover by Kingsley Amis that smells like the stories of a hundred people. The younger generation will lose the romance of the bookstore with their eBooks and iPads. While these places do still exist, Brooklyn Boy and I will hide away in them and swim in their stories as we make our own.

Our Tuesday posts are now being web syndicated by The New Gay. For more intelligent queer coverage of culture, ideas and events, check out www.thenewgay.net

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Two words … AWE  SOME !! So, we are gonna call this boy, Brooklyn Boy. Only started speaking to him on Thursday. He winked at me on one of those sites and I didn’t respond. He didn’t have a profile pic. I do NOT respond to contact from faceless boy wonders. A day later, I get an email. I read it, wtf, why not?! Ok, so, he’s clever but still NO picture. His mini bio talks about Brooklyn though, I love Brooklyn. I miss Brooklyn dearly. So, against my usual better wishes, I click into his full profile to see more. He has a secondary photo that is slightly arty and a little too distant, BUT it shows that he is at least not obese or bald. Fine, I email him back. I do let him know that I am ONLY emailing because he mentioned Brooklyn, because I do NOT normally respond to profiles without pics. Of course he has an explanation for this. He’s only been on the site 36 hours and the other photos haven’t posted yet.

We spend Thursday evening passing back and forth many emails filled with witty banter. Friday morning he asks me to meet him for coffee or tea later in the afternoon. His eagerness isn’t off-putting, it doesn’t smell of desperation. He tells me that the profile photos have finally been approved and posted to the site. I check them out and sigh a happy sigh of relief and get a little giddy because he is quite attractive. Huge warm and happy, yet slightly goofy smile with bright joyful eyes and yay, lots of hair. I have realized I love hair. On the heads of men I find attractive I mean, cause we all know, I don’t like hair. Hello, next waxing appointment!? Anyway, head hair is a major tactile part of the making out experience for me. Anyway, I digress. He’s super attractive and since he emailed me his personal email in the body of the dating site email, I was able to Google him and be wonderfully impressed that he has made it his career to make the world a place that is safe and “right”  for everyone. Ok, he is handsome, he is interested in me, he is someone who is admirable and respectable, and he is from Brooklyn. Of course I agree to meet him for coffee / tea.

We meet outside of a train station and greet each other with warm smiles and a kind friendly hug. We decide to walk to a coffee-house a few blocks away and sit and talk. We get his “complication” out in the open quickly. He is seperated. Not yet divorced but working towards the finalizing of said marriage and he has two young children. He shows me a photo and they are two of the most beautiful children I have seen. (My nieces, who rock, are, by far, the MOST beautiful EVER. No offense to anyone.) Ok, minor complication but not a huge thing. We all have had prior relationships and hell, this is just tea.

Only, is it just tea? We sat for a couple of hours at the café and chatted, about Brooklyn, photography, his ex, my exes (I had not yet told him about the gender of said exes), our dogs, his career, my business, how much we are both a bit Meh about this city and life. We just talked about life. He started to get heavy talking about the dissolution of his marriage when I made an executive decision that we needed something to lighten the mood. We needed cupcakes. So, I stuck him back on the train and drug him to my favorite place for a couple of rum soaked, vanilla and lime infused, butter cream topped nomnomnommy cupcakes. And life was good again.

I walked him back to his office, on the way back to the train, so he could pick up his things. He is fascinating. He invited me on a trip to NYC next week. I would, but I can’t because of prior commitments. The trip itself, the event he is attending, is a once in a lifetime event. I could try to juggle things but my going on an overnight trip with him now, it would lessen this somehow. Do I want the event or am I curious about this crazy connection we seem to be feeling? Did I mention the strange fact that we lived between 4-6 blocks from each other in Brooklyn in 1999 and worked 2 blocks from each other in Manhattan? We rode the same train everyday and never met. I find that fascinating.

We parted ways at the train station with a hug that was warmer and more date like than it began. I walked away with a smirk. I sent him a text on the train, thanking him for being such a pleasant surprise. At the exact time I hit send, I received a text from him, thanking me for being so spontaneous and meeting him today. We shared a few more texts, then some emails and before you knew it, we had chatted on Google chat for 4 hours.

I like him, without a well, but, meh, eh or hmm. Yes, there is the divorce thing. But really, that is what it is. This is an interesting development. Oh, and I asked him how the online dating has been for him so far. He blushed and admitted that he only signed up to meet me and by his reaction, I knew it was sincere. This IS going to be an interesting adventure, I already can tell.

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I woke up with a score of things on my to-do list but realized that I desperately wanted brunch. I haven’t had brunch in months, perhaps even a year. So, I am trolling around and looking for someone to have brunch with, when he pops up on line. Now, the amusing and uh oh moment comes when I realize  AFTER I asked him if he wants to have brunch with me, that I don’t know which guy this is. I panic. I am looking through all the dating sites I use for an email that correlates to his screen name on googlechat. AACK. I have no idea. He calls me when he is 15 minutes from my door and I am hoping he says his name when I answer the phone. No, he doesn’t. I’m scrolling through our googlechat history for some clue. NOTHING. Panic sets in, what if he is someone who I was just talking to out of boredom? What if he is fat and unattractive? Please, just be nice and not smell bad. “It’s only brunch,” I say to myself.

When he arrives I make several notes, nice dependable car, good height, of average build, handsome in an interestingly average but not kind of way. He has a Heath Ledger facial thing. Not a Heath exact appearance but more of a similarity that could put him in the family tree. Relieved. I still didn’t recognize him from any of the profiles yet and was slightly panicked and embarrassed. What if he mentions something and I can’t place him and end up looking like an asshole?

We made our way into the restaurant and as we were sitting down, he mentioned his 6-year-old son. OF COURSE!!! This is the dad who I yelled at for not putting any really clear photos of his face but he did have an adorable one of his son, which made me think that there was no way he could be that bad, with a son that cute. Phew! With that, it all came back. Umm, except his name!!! Ooops! So, we had great conversation throughout brunch. He exhibits an immediate sense of comfort and familiarity that makes you feel at ease and as if you have known him a very long time. Accident prone as a child, he always landed with his face, and provided me a detailed history of his childhood through the various scars. He felt like an old friend, without feeling too friend-like. At bill time I pulled out my card because this WASN’T a date. It was a total spontaneous googlechat invite so that I would have someone to hang out with as I ate my egg covered poutine. Mmmmm, poutine. Only, he wouldn’t let me pay. At all. Ha. So, he took control of the situation and defined it as a date with his actions. Good job Heath’s Cousin!

After we left we decided to walk around a bit and get some fresh air. We walked a couple miles and stopped in a small Tibetan shop that is going out of business. I bought a woodblock for my wall and an antique necklace that was originally $239 but that the owner gave to me for $30. How amazing is that? We talked with the owner of the shop about The Dalai Lama, whom the shop owner has met several times and of course admires greatly.

We were only a black from my favorite café, so I directed us that way for a decaf hot cup of goodness for me and a chai for him, which I discreetly and quickly picked up the tab for as a thank you for brunch. Coffee I can afford. Sushi, not really. My favorite employees were off today and the kids that were working were a combination of hung over and generally exhausted, yet they still could muster the enthusiasm to chat me up a bit and humor me when I asked them,”What up, yo?”. Coming from a mid thirties uber femme white gal who looks far more conventional than she truly is, perhaps is worth a dog eared head tilt.

Heath’s Cousin and I walked back to the car and continued our great conversation on a range of topics and managed to somehow miss our turn early on, causing us a 20 minute delay in getting me home. Perhaps this was his intention, but honestly, I think he’s just a bit directionally challenged. We finally found our way to my condo and sat outside in the car and talked for about 10 more minutes. As I was getting ready to say goodbye, he told me he had something for me. I reacted with a mild dog eared head tilt myself. Apparently, when in the Tibetan store, he bought me a ring with Tibetan symbols on it. He guessed it would probably be too large but he meant it as a gesture of thanks for such a nice afternoon. Honestly, the sweetest guy I have gone out with yet.

Sexual chemistry? Too early to tell. I also have my little crushes on the blueberry soda loving, wanted to be a fireman when he grew up Musician/Writer/Assoc. Prod guy and the Future Lawyer who I almost got arrested for committing indecent acts with in a closed mall. There are also some other men in the pipeline…. so, who knows. This exploration is a day by day adventure and today it ended on a note of sweetness.

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