I am a newt. I am plump. I have a persona of being a bit of a hard-ass and have been told by my friends that I can be a tad intimidating. All of this, I guess, adds up to my not being approachable for the opposite sex.

Lesbians love me. In fact they love me so much that when I do attend the Gay Pride Parade here in Toronto I wear a sticker with the word “str8” — so that there is no confusion.

I have been told by some manly friends that I am a geek’s dream – I enjoy playing WOW (but not hardcore, I mostly fart about with it), enjoy Dr Who, Marvel Comics, sci-fi like Babylon 5, Star Trek and cute comedies like The Big Bang Theory. I also tend to understand a geek’s need to just geek out and focus on whatever they are working on at a given moment.

Places where I should not looking for “something” – the pagan community. I guess I’m a bit of a snob, but quite a few of the men do not thrill me. Other than having serious problems with the concept of personal hygiene, many of them do not possess even a modicum of intellectual curiosity. They do not appear to pay much attention to the world around them, other than how it impacts them personally (getting paid, public transit breaking down, which drum should they purchase).

I am not asking for someone who I can discuss history with. Though it would be nice to have someone who will not turn up their nose at the idea of my wafting about a museum with a huge smile on my face. Other need of mine – I watch Coronation Street. Scoff if you will, but I need my Corrie.

I also listen to a fairly ecclectic mix of music – ethnic (Lithuanian/Russian/Latvian), Edith Piaf, Shirley Bassey, VNV Nation, Cradle of Filth, Chopin, Mozart, Gregorian Chants, Consorts & Madrigals.

I guess I’m an odd creature who will always be an odd creature.

One impediment that I do run into, when someone does strike up the nerve to approach me, is that I cannot have kids. There will be no Baby Beans coming from me. I was told 3 years ago by my surgeons that I should not contemplate having a kid unless I have someone who can support me – as I would be laid up for most of the pregnancy, and then I’d be checked into Mount Sinai (that deals with high risk pregnancies) for a c-section that would not be done by an obstetrican but by my Urologist & Uro-gynecolist.  So I’ve gotten use to the idea that there will be no Baby Beans. I cried a lot over that, but I am at peace with it now. But what is at issue is menfolk who want sprogs and realise they won’t be getting any off me — so one or two dates, and then it’s goodbye as I have no child-bearing potential.

So, to my friends who have managed to read all the way through my whinging, I deputise you with finding me a decent companion. Regard it as a challenge 🙂