A reply to Anonymous who posted on the previous blog post.

Dear Anonymous,
First...thank you. I am 53 years old. I can't remember the last time anyone crushed on me. You know, when one is in their twenties, it happens a lot and you sort of smile and roll your eyes. When one is in their thirties, it happens sometimes and it is nice. When one is in their forties, it happens and is almost always associated with some sort of older woman fetish, so not so exciting.

But to be crushed upon when one is in their 50's is a gift.

But, here is the reality.

You don't know me. Not really. Maybe you know what I look like, many of my readers do. But, probably you don't.

I'm no huge beauty. I'm okay looking. I'm not particularly thin or fat, pretty or ugly. Just in the middle.

You know me through my writing. And you miss a lot of the not-so-fun aspects of me. Bing would be the first to tell you that I am hard to live with. I was dragged kicking and screaming into love and it has never been my strong suit. In fact, she just read what I wrote and whispered in my ear, "Tell the guy to listen to Matt Nathanson's song called Modern Love, it should tell the world just what life with you is like..."

I'm not all sunshine and roses.

Or caustic remarks and sparkly wit.

I can be very ordinarily obtuse and selfish. Every few months, I fight a bout of depression that can sometimes last for weeks. During that time, I only come out of my shell to go to work and do my job and to talk to Liv. Otherwise, I am out. Don't knock and expect me to answer. I won't.

I am addicted to reading. I take a book EVERYWHERE with me so that I can sneak in a paragraph or two whenever I can. I take a book to bed with me at night and try to read at least a chapter before I fall asleep. Bing usually stays up to watch the news and when she comes in, she takes the book off my chest, takes my glasses off and carefully puts them in their case on the bedside table and joins me. Sometimes she comes to bed early too and tries to engage me in some before sleep foreplay. I very seldom oblige her. I imagine that if she dies before me, I will regret not taking her up on that more.

Which leads me to sex. I am not particularly driven by it. In fact, I have been accused of being frigid by a few boyfriends and girlfriends before Bing. Bing is kinder. She just says that I usually have to be coaxed. A lot.

The truth is that I hardly ever think about sex. When I was younger, I was more sexual because I had this thing for bad boys and girls and since sex with those kinds is generally pretty explosive...I sought it out. But..comfortable, married sex? I tend to really enjoy it when I am having it but getting me to that place can be tricky.

I like to think that I am a kind person, basically, but I am not THAT kind. I detest bawl babies or whiners and thus I am not usually sought out by them. At work, I am thought of as the one who always has a snappy comeback line. I am not particularly warm or generous. Unless it is with my daughter. She broke through my Grinch heart at birth.

I think I am secretly softhearted. I feel things deeply inside, but seldom show it on the outside. Thus, I am often thought to be sort of...bristly...when I am actually more of a marshmallow on the inside.

I admit that I have a real problem with people who aren't educated. And by educated, I don't mean school educated, I mean educated in general. I get annoyed by people who have opinions but no facts to back their arguments up. (I am seeing my racist brother in law right now.) If you and I are debating, I will knock you flat if you are uneducated. This means that I will probably embarrass you in front of people and you will label me a bitch.

So, I'm nobody's dream girl. Believe me.

You didn't say if you are female or male, but I am guessing that you are male. Just a guess. Your remark about wishing it was me next to you in bed, other than your wife is telling. Most women (including lesbian women) aren't initially attracted by sex. Women generally go for personality.

I think crushes are okay as long as they don't go anywhere. Because that is what they are: a crush. I have a celebrity crush on Lee DeWyze but I would wager money that he is not anything the way I imagine him to be. (And his choice of a fiancee proves my point. The Lee I imagine would NEVER marry the insipid, daft woman that he is in love with.) The Lee in my imagination goes for a smart mouthed Chicago girl who would never pick out a wedding dress that looks like an eclair or think that Disneyland is "my dream honeymoon." See? He is nothing like I thought he was. But, I will still enjoy his music.

Just like I hope you will still enjoy my writing. Now, I am not saying that I am a celebrity or anything like Lee. (And actually when Bing leaned over my shoulder to read what I had written about him, she snorted and said, "Honey, Lee DeWyze is NOT a celebrity. He is a so-so coffee house singer.")

I guess what I want you to come away with is this: your wife is probably a very interesting person. You just don't see it that much anymore. Proximity takes away a lot of illusions. But, I would be willing to bet that she is still just as fascinating as she was before you got married.

Think about it. Part of the crush on me is that you don't have to see me all growly in the morning before I've had my coffee. Or sniping at you because you left your briefcase on the kitchen table AGAIN. Or pouting because it's your turn to pick a movie and you picked that stupid new planet of the apes one. (Yeah, Bing...that would be YOU!) Or giving you the silent treatment because you promised to hook up those new computers you bought a MONTH ago and they are still sitting OUT OF THE BOXES on the dining room floor. (Ditto, Bing.) You don't have to hear me tell you about the crazy dream that I had last night when you are late for work and really need to get going. You don't have to see me glare you at you across a dining table because you are chewing with your mouth open and I HATE THAT. You don't have to see me bringing home new Ferragamo high heeled shoes that I should not be wearing in the first place and that cost 400 bucks and we really should be putting that money into our IRA. And the reason WHY I shouldn't be wearing high heels is because I have a HAMMER TOE, which I got because I have been wearing high heels my whole adult life. Hammer toes are not sexy, by the way. This is what my hammer toe looks like. And get this: I expect Bing to massage it every night. And better: She DOES IT. LOVINGLY. She has even kissed my hammer toe on occasion. Okay, backing off now. I have wandered into gross couple territory, I know.

I am not all that healthy. I have type 1 diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, have pre-lupus, a bad back and I'm losing my eyelashes. This upsets me more than I can say. I used to have these long, thick, curly black eyelashes. Now, they look like eyelashes belonging to a 53 year old women. Ugh. Aging isn't for pansies. But, hey..I take many, many prescription medications. When I travel, they have their own little traveling case. That's how many there are.

Am I losing my allure yet?

Truth can be tough.

And I must warn you that I am very, very leery of blog stalkers, so I truly hope you are harmless.

I have a blog stalker. She is the number one reason that I never post pictures and hardly ever meet blog friends. I am skeered.

This woman started reading my blog years ago. She piqued my interest by making a few very witty, urbane remarks on my blog. We exchanged e-mails. I never thought I was all that close to her, but apparently she thought I returned her attraction. She became furious when I um...spurned her amorous attempts. So, she sent me an e-mail with the blueprints of my home (with my bedroom circled....EWWW!), letting me know that she knew where I lived. She also let me know that she knew where I worked, what school Bing taught at and what school Liv attended.

I was terrified. What the hell did she need all of this for? I contacted the police and was sort of politely laughed out of the office. They told me that unless she physically threatened either me or a member of my family, that their hands were tied. Nothing they could do about someone who looked but didn't touch. They DID allow me to put her down as a person of interest in case anything happened to me. But, that was it.

So, Bing and I took steps. Bing is a computer geek, so she and her geek friends put an enormous firewall around my account. They also took my google analytics and enhanced them, so that we could know each and every time she visited my blog. (And she stunned us by visiting up to 15 times a day on several different computers.) We alerted our workplaces about her in case she decided to lurk. She had sent me a photo of herself in e-mail and her ugly face is still on the bulletin board of the security office in my building.

Worse, I had to go to Liv's then Montessori school and reiterate to the head mistress that NO ONE other than Bing or I was to ever pick up Liv. I also gave them a photo of the blog stalker and told them that if they should see this person lurking, to notify the police.

So, I guess what I am saying, Anonymous...is that while I find it kind of flattering that you are crushing on me...if you are a sicko blog stalker, beware.

Capisce?

Ok. I am just going to assume that you have a garden variety crush, so hey...I'm flattered. Really.

But, do me a favor, okay?

Today, take a long hard look at your wife. Her face. The way she laughs, smiles, thinks. And remember how you felt when you looked at her on your wedding day or the first day that you realized you loved her.

She's still in there, you know.

Just sayin'......