Hi sweetheart, back from my date & jaunt into Albany. I had a nice day but I won't bury the lede -- the date was pleasant -- but no spark. No surprise. One has to be surprised for spark, not for lack of it. My first time driving into that burg, up Route 9J, a lonely empty highway closeby the river. I was virtually the only car on the road, midmorning, me and occasional most unfortunate roadkill. And then one passes the Port of Rensselaer -- gray, empty, vast, windswept on this overcast morning -- makes a turn, heads over a ramp that circles around, and then suddenly - Ozlike - is spread what there is of the skyline and dense urban fabric of Albany. So surreal - like an upstate Brasilia, seemingly plopped down in the middle of nowhere. I can hardly describe how alone & isolated I had felt driving up the lonely road -- and then suddenly the city right before my eyes springing into view. It's not like coming into New York City at all, with its vast approaches of exurbs, suburbs, ratty urban edges and then one's in the eye of it.

The guy was nice, attractive, we spent well over an hour, sitting side by side on a settee, chatting over cups of coffee set on a low table before us. It was like being in a living room. I looked very nice, I believe -- I made an effort -- wore a nice skirt, pretty patterned top, bare legs, nice heels. I've decided to reacquaint myself with lipstick. I abandoned wearing makeup years ago, when we moved up to the country, and I don't miss it, but I thought - well, a touch of brightening lip color can't hurt - I'll do that much, happily. I wish my date had made a bit more of an effort - possibly I might have been more attracted to him? He looked as though he'd rolled out of bed into the first rumpled pieces of clothing he could find, which were sort of too big, very loosefitting on him. I don't know. I did like him - again, nice to chat with -- and yet -- I felt at times as though we were talking a little past each other -- that the arrows of conversation weren't exactly connecting -- just shooting past. Like talking to one's self, only there's another person there. The rhythm wasn't quite right. Oh, it's okay, I still had a nice time, and it was great simply to talk to someone for a bit, get out of the house, enjoy a cafe that's new & fun for me (a scruffy, casual place, reminding me of college town cafes). And I am very very glad to have encountered him in any fashion, over the last several days in email exchanges, because he quite forwardly asked me a direct question -- to which my immediate response was (in oddly stilted prose) -- "maybe!! honestly -- it's been outside my repertoire heretofore -- but I'm really really open"

I mean, god knows that decades ago when I endured corporal punishment, its parental administers were hardly asking -- would I "like a spanking now & then?"

Actually - probably I wouldn't - but - wow - thanks for asking!

many kisses, sweetheart
going outside now to enjoy the glorious sunshine & beautiful warm day