That was quick.

My interest in dating, that is.

One evening spent making small talk with a stranger was all it took to remind me of how incredibly rare it is to find that special connection with someone. It wasn't that bad, really  -- it was similar to sitting next to a pleasant, but boring, person on the plane, chatting and not knowing how to end the conversation. I wish I had the balls moxy of Ellen Barkin in "Sea of Love:" "I don't feel it with you: I can tell like that" with a snap of the fingers, get up and leave and save us both from a boring hour or two.

Just think of the knitting I could have accomplished!

Oh well. Good to have done it, I suppose. Reminded me that it's not my thing.

Back to the Buddhist nun's existence.