April 14th. The span of time between now and then is indicative in itself of the Sahara-like quality of my “love life” right now and if you’re short on time, feel free to stop reading here. You’ve got it all already.

But if you’re still here, than I have one little tidbit for you from the last few months. I got a very sweet and romantic text message proposal the other day. But before I tell you about that, let me tell you about the other three marriage proposals I have received in the last 30 years. The first two involved offered an exchange of goats and various other livestock. Being as I was under the legal marriage age and didn’t speak French, my “associates” turned down those offers and wisked me away to safer territory. The third promise was given with promises of “big house! I give you big house!” My first inclination at this was to laugh and I did and than walked away dragging my less experienced friend with me with her chin hitting the floor.

Well this one came with no grandiose promises BUT because of my supreme negotiating skills, I was able to trade my legal status in this country for these terms: small hut on the beach, a foreign passport and a pet monkey. Oh yeah, and I’m sure I could work out lots of sex too.

Despite those terms, the romantic in me, that near dormant dusty corner of my heart, isn’t quite satisfied. Is it too much to ask that someone love me BEFORE they ask me to marry them? Is it too much to ask that the person who I marry returns my phone calls? Or possibly reserves important questions such as that for perhaps even a phone call if not in person? Now THAT WOULD BE SHOCKING.