One glorious morning I made the now-so-trendy decision to go pursue the joy and jubilation that is JDate. This is where I “met” Henry – a perfectly nice, semi-dorky engineer/dog lover who was super excited about silly little me (emphasis on silly). We started “talking” after he messaged me claiming: “We have so much in common!  Would you be interested in getting to know each other?”

At first I was Meg Ryan and he was my Tom Hanks, and on a daily basis “You’ve got mail!” brightened my day. Until one day we decided to meet up. Remember how disappointed Tom was when he got a glimpse of his internet sweetie? Well, paste that look on my face, because this was not who I had pictured. But I stuck out the date and at the end I told Henry/Tom Hanks that he was lovely, but we should be friends.

Just a short time ago, after a serious break-up of the “I don’t want to be with you anymore, so please move out” variety I have to admit that I was in a massive slump.  There’s no denying that I was going to need something major to pull me up from this Tyson-like punch.

So I was found myself watching TV on the couch at my good friend “Shari’s”, who had agreed to let me crash until I gathered my bearings.

As you St. Louis Lifers know, finding someone Jewish to date who has not dated at least three people you know (or your mom, grandma and aunt know) is nearly impossible. So when a Jewish man of mystery does pop up, it’s hard not to jump for joy/slingshot your phone number to him. Just the thought of being able to actually introduce your date to people who will need you to tell them his name is thrilling. And if he happens to be Jewish, well hot dog! Pass the rings and we’ll proceed down the aisle. But even I’ve learned that it’s important to proceed with caution.

In 2002, one of Robin William’s lesser known movies, “One Hour Photo” came out. Although I saw this movie, the only thing I could tell you about it now is that it features a scene with Williams’ character -- on a toilet.

At the time I thought there could be nothing more unseemly than watching someone doing what should be a one-on-one private event. Unfortunately, since that riveting cinematic experience, I have found that there are many things more unappealing and disturbing than Robin Williams pretending to do #2 on camera. And for this I thank the lovely but “Constipated Cutie”.