ME and Ophelia

EXPLORING INTERNET DATING
How to find a soul mate via computer

By the end of Saturday, I'd completed a form on one site that produced a list showing my compatibilty with a host of degree level engineers and one photographer/designer. I emailed the top three "compatibles" before realising that the first two had not accessed the site since 2001. Received a reply from the third, containing his own Hotmail address. I responded via the site's email facility because my two email addresses identify my name and I do not fancy maintaining a third inbox.

Explored how the site works, policy on cookies, privacy etc. It carries no advertising. Couldn't figure how the site owners cover their costs.

Over the weekend, I discovered a better site with nifty navigation and interesting features. Profiles are more in-depth and many contain photos. The new site is experimental and free of charge at the moment. It plans to carry advertising and may introduce registration fees for newcomers later on.

It's fun reading all the profiles based on a standard set of questions, for example, "what is the strangest or most embarrassing thing that has happened to you?" One chap answered: "meeting a woman from an internet site that had one tooth, yes I mean ONE TOOTH!"

Last night, after submitting my profile without a photo, I emailed one "profile" living in London. He has no photo and describes himself as an attractive intellectual. He sounds very nice but has not accessed the site since October, so I'm unsure if he is still current.

Unable to blog yesterday. Visitor turned up unexpectedly for the afternoon. Nice surprise. Enjoyed green tea and slices of Austrian cake. And a fun discussion on the business of Internet dating. Yesterday's Sunday Times newspaper is still sitting on the carpet, unopened.

Still finding nuts on the floor. Ophelia, in a playful mood, spied a cloth placemat peeking over the edge of the dining table. Four bowls of nuts, grapes and chocolates sat on the mat. She stretched her paw up to have a feel, caught her claw in the mat and the whole shebang tumbled onto the floor. An exploding bomb of grapes, chocolates, hazlenuts, sunflower and pumpkin seeds, flinging things across the room into every corner and under the couch.

If my favourite pottery bowl had not cracked into three pieces, I'd have seen it as funny. But the bowl was sentimental, a gift from a dear friend. This is the first time Ophelia has done anything wrong. She knew it too - looking at me sheepishly, out of the corner of her half closed eyes, pretending to sleep. I felt bad for her, and the bowl, so I gave her a kiss and cuddle and told her it was an accident. She seemed to understand and started purring again.

Right now she's sitting on a side table by the window. Jawing on a gold ball tied onto a pine tree plant. It's lashing down with rain outside. She must be bored. Guess it's time for us to play long dangly ribbon on a stick.....