Unbroken Glass

Hi.

You don’t know me.

You may think you do, but you don’t. In particular, you think you know me as Peter Pan.

This is not important.

What is important is that this evening, at about 9.30pm, I asked She to marry me.

She said yes.

That is all.

I’ve always wondered who are the world loving, nature children of the revolution, fighting dictatorship, for the sake of democracy, freedom of speech etc who work in the IRS. Nice people, surely.
So now I know.
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Random little me.
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Haha, and you all thought I was having a good time while not writing…
“No bad dates recently for She”, eh? Oh, do I have a tale to tell you all.
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Okay, I know the narrative is rather familiar, but when you think of it, I’ve been out on so many dates that, statistically, I can’t avoid meeting the very same material every now and then.

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Just a quick post before Yom Tov.

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There was only one catch… and that was Catch-45.
(That line was shamelessly stolen from the beginning of the book, sort of).
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Few of you sent me emails which got mercilessly deleted by my Outlook Express inbox. Maybe it ate it, I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that when my computer recovered from its good hard reboot, the only item I had smiling at me viciously from the screen was a bloody “Welcome to Outlook Express”.
So…
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So my friends set me up with an FFB. My first one ever.
The whole idea made me slightly nervous at the time, but I decided to go out anyway. Ach, I’m such a shidduch-lover, can’t pass up a chance when I get it.
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