how does one manage it?

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You can try dating sites. You find men that way. Good thing is you have children so you have them. If I had kids, I think I wouldn't mind being single because I have kids. That be the important thing.

Eh, it's a battle finding your special someone no matter the age

My advice is to look in your field of interest - eg: I found my man through a car club...we both have Subarus. Turns out we have a LOT more than just that in common

More mature guys will probably be able to sense when you're really into them...they're also more likely to make the moves, considering the experience advantage of my poor little 17-year-old (lol cradle-snatcher at 20 ). If you can immerse yourself into a more social situation (heck, why not even take up beginner dancing? It's good for the body, for coordination, and you get to dance with nice fellas ) then who knows...a nice fella might just sweep you off your feet An advantage is that men beyond my generation at least are still somewhat more assertive, will still sweep a gal off her feet...the young guys we gals in this generation deal with are a lot more unsure of themselves...often, we do the asking-out

This is interesting reading...I'd just commented elsewhere on the forum that I find it hard to really tell the ages of people on here. In reading your responses, I can see you've got a youthful spirit; you appear to me to be energetic and positive despite the topic at hand, you have a lovely enthusiasm in the way you write. I love it! While the maturity of life experience is very apparent in your writing, so is that strong spirit

It actually makes me think of a wonderful lady that went to my partner's workplace for some work on her car. It was a late model Subaru Legacy B4 with a 5" fart can on the back of it (think big, loud exhaust). It's a twin-turbo all-wheel-drive monster (think loud and powerful, VERY fast). She wanted a full rotation of all the wheels, from memory...he came over, attracted by the sound...we're both big Subaru fans. He looked for the owner...could only see a little old lady. Turns out that 80-year-old grandma WAS the owner! She proceeded to talk to him about her car (note he's actually 17...lol), which is actually a manual - tough clutch too, it's a turbo - and how she's had to use the power to outrun boyracers giving her a hard time in a windy patch of road. She knew the specs of the car and how to have fun...it's loud and fast...her family was apparently mortified when she bought it instead of a cute little runabout, but she loves it.

She for me is the icon of what everyone post-kids should be like...don't let your birth date dictate how you live your life or your outlook thereof

...and that was my daily dose of off-topic

Waltz, you say. Actually that sounds pretty good, even to this young 20-year-old! Your hypersensitivity sounds like the usual barrier (I'd actually like to experience it sometime just so I can see what it's like for reference, I can barely imagine it, being NT)...but I wonder if you would grow used to it, or if it's a stable thing.

I've noticed that my boyfriend (AS) very quickly learns to tune things out or desensitise himself. When we first started going out he avoided touch, understandably...I resorted to poking him across the car, and he flailed like a mad thing...extremely ticklish! All I had to do was touch lightly and he'd flail. Nowadays I actually have to attack his armpits to get that reaction out of him...he's desensitised himself to tickling to the point I can run my fingers up and down his midriff and he can enjoy it. Seems a few people around are able to adjust or get used to the sensation of touch, though a lot more seem to have stronger hypersensitivity that just won't budge

Choking could be a bit of an issue, if you let it Though very few people would actually go dancing just for the dancing lessons. A LOT of single people do it for the same reasons you might (lovely to learn to dance, even more lovely meeting someone nice!), and I would do it for the close contact and joint physical movement with my guy. (Not that he'd be caught dead dancing -_____-) Not that it may help much, but at least you'd know you're not alone in having an ulterior motive through the dancing.

Well hey, with the surprise thing, it's gotta be better than 'ABOUT FREAKIN TIME!' as a response It sucks when you know someone's interested in you but hasn't worked up the balls to make the moves (and it is always nicer for the boys to do their thang!). It's true though, girls can make the first move too. It was a game of chess in my case - an exchange of increasingly risque comments until we sort of slid into the realisation we were no longer just friends. LOL. And over MSN too, an hour after we'd seen each other in real life.

Ya know...all these negatives or why-I-can't-make-this-work excuses are...big, well-founded excuses You need to draw up some excuses as to why you HAVE to make this work, or why you CAN, to negate them! The best attitude to have is a non-desperate one...one to go out and have fun, and if something better comes along, w00t! It's always the gal out there looking like she's enjoying herself, the friendly gal, that will attract the attention she's after. People sense things like this - contentedness vs desperation, happiness vs depression. If you at least seem content and happy, they'll assume you've got something to offer - you're good enough to be happy and content, they want a slice of that too

I'm a strong believer in the fact that there's someone for everyone out there. The Aspieness is of course only another rather large obstacle to overcome. There are plenty of people out there who will love you for who you are, quirks and all...heck, there's AS/NT relationships everywhere that are goin' strong *raises hand for that one*

And heck, you say you're in good shape and NOT rattling full of several litres of botox...that's TWO pluses in your favour

Nan, you had a date in 1995? You sound like one of them party girls.

I have been hiding out longer than that. When it comes to long felt and unmet needs, I go to the Patent Office. The world is a dangerous place. Being happy, and mixing with people, does not work out.

The problem comes from a lifetime of being at the wrong end of the game. Young girls are looking for a daddy, and the little perverts want to sleep with him. I find it hard to mix roles.

Others, through no fault of their own, have lost the fathers of both their children who they never married, and are looking for someone to pay for all, in several ways.

Those without children dress well, always have that come hither look, and a records search shows they have been married five times, all to men with money, and they have a lawyer that takes them to the cleaners each time. Education has changed the world, but it is still a pimp running whores. Serial Brides.

Then there are widows, the children are grown, but it comes out they have buried three husbands and are looking for another. Once you get to know them it seems there was poison involved. Some like funerals, they get attention, and with others, the husband took rat poison as a way out.

Many women have the same ideas about me, first they will get rid of my motorcycle, we have been together for 33 years, and women do not like that. Then I can no longer work at home, I have to get a real job. Or move my business to an office, for home is where they will sit on the couch all day and watch soaps and Jerry Springer. It was never a place for men to live.

Watching women in later years trying to use high school tricks to get an older man to make their mortgage payments is comical. Watching the whole game, everything that worked before, daddy, boy friend, husband, trick, is comic, but dangerous, if you do not buy in to any of it. They will move on to other prey, but not before poisioning you in some way.

I enjoy my life, publish books, prints, build machines in the kitchen, paint motorcycle parts on the back porch, and finish drying them in the oven. I write, and what time I have I want to get the ideas out of my head and into material form. I want to leave a record of my passing, and I do not want my death to make anyone happy.

I have never married, I have two children, and many who were killed before birth. The mother of my first walked out and married someone else one day, then knowing where I was, kept my daughter a secret till she married, then she tried to collect. That one never spoke to me again, her mother told her she had reasons for leaving. My second adopted me when her father died, we are the best of friends, the only female friend I ever had.

I wish you well, but your sex has a rap sheet a mile long.

inventor, that does work both ways, you know. i can tell you roughly equivalent stories (sans the dead babies). looks like we've both met some of the wrong variety. sounds like your run of luck was worse than mine. but then again, i do believe you get what you're looking for, really, in the long run. you expect the worst of people and you'll get it.

snippity snip

Nan,

Just clearing the obvious background issues. Of all of them you most remind me of the kid. She is very secure in who she is. The rest is the baggage that both sexes carry. The smartest girl I ever met said, "I would never live with you, but I would not mind if you lived in the neighborhood."

I hear in your words that you lost a friend. It takes one to have one and that is rare. I am mostly put off by appearance, glamor, the image that has nothing to do with content. A book bound in wrinkled leather with the smell of time is attractive. I struggle to be me, for I do not understand me, and the world is no help. I am so far gone that the most helpful thing I was ever told was, you are a lot smarter than other people. I saw the potential, kept expecting the lights to come on, but it was a dim world and I aggravated it.

Between a world I am not prepared to understand, dumb again in that I thought I could, and my personal meaningful work, I became the only me I was comfortable with. I lack a talent for lying, and for detecting lies. That left out humans. I do not keep pets. Machines, computers, books, I do much better.

Thanks for the convection tip, I have one but only large enough for small parts, fenders and such cook in the kitchen. Now if I could figure frames. New Orleans is so humid that it takes paint several years to dry hard. As it sets up it traps water and then stays gummy forever. Hanging it in an air conditioned room help, but I keep forgetting and walking into it.

In the long cycle of our lives I see that many are gone, others soon will be, but there is a core group who start anew in later years. A passion for living keeps people alive. Most do not have it and welcome another end. I have met several who started a business at sixty, and ran it for twenty years. There is a old biker group who log more miles than I did when younger. They have less attachment to any place, and a welcome at hundreds where they pass through, with stories of the world.

They all tell a common story, lived ordinary lives, perhaps puttered in the shop a bit more, then found themselves no longer keeping a world running for others, and said, Cool! And did what they had wanted to at nineteen, before life got in the way.

I had seen them, but they did not start talking to the new kid till I turned sixty. Suddenly I entered a new group. I am still the kid, on probation for ten years, but they do have some hope for me. It was like finding WP, "You mean I am not the only one?" No, there is another world, with it's own ways, it's own economy, it's own values.

So I have found two new worlds, both better than the last. It is what is within that lives, without it most live in a dream then die. Where the lights are on every day is new, and a wonder to behold.

Most are walking to the grave, after all, everyone else is, jump the fence, head for the horizon, and don't look back. Someday I will die, I hope it is an place of natural beauty, where birds will eat my flesh, mice my bones, and I will be one with it forever. Part of me will be gone, but even after years, someone will discover the motorcycle, it will start on the first kick, and they will find the title signed over in the tool compartment.

kewl.



PS - Maybe a dehumidifier in the room with the painted frames? With a good fan circulating the air.

I learned how to scuba dive when I was 45 and the sport is mostly men. Everyone looks pretty good in black neoprene and you can't talk underwater anyway. Out of the water, everyone wants to talk about the dive, or diving in general, where you have dived before, where you plan to dive next. It's a lot of fun and the places you travel to are wonderful. It's island time, mon. Go to Cozumel and the Dive Masters will call you "Senorita." Yes, it is a stretch and they call all women "Seniorita," but it's a good time.

I'd dive with you, Nan. I've got 6 advanced certifications including Rescue. Hell we could book an all-aspie liveaboard and go to Tahiti and oogle all the young guys. We'd have a ball.

Nan, you sound like a very nice person, your posts all made me smile. My suggestion is that you look for friends. A true friendship is rare and worth cherishing. No "relationship" can live unless it is based on friendship. And plastic surgery, not eating... all those things have nothing to do with friendship, so you are doing the right thing anyway. Dont try to change yourself.

I bet you could meet someone online. The internet is a wonderful social networking tool.

Just an update to say that the past is the past, and things have a way of turning to smoke and wafting away on the breeze. Life does that quite often.

snipping snipping snipping

It doesn't matter, it'll pass. Thanks for listening. I just get like that, sometimes. The middle-aged equivalent of teen angst.