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Just finished watching OPRah... how to find a man over 35... well, thats find and dandy... but lets face it... things are abit differant when you're over 50.... I am an outgoing person, yet reserved.... a little shy in some ways ... so I would like to know... what men in the 50ish age group are looking for in a woman....?

I know alot of men...not bad looking.. I am a fun person... (or so people tell me) but most weekends I am spending alone.... what am I doing wrong ???

I have just signed up here today, so I thought I would tell you a little bit about myself, I have been divorced for 3 years, I am the mother of 2 boys, ages 14 and 16. I am in the process of trying to teach my oldest son how to drive, and I truly hope I survive it, lol. It is honestly making me a nervous wreck, lol, but I am a survivor, so I am sure I will make it through. I am a very optimistic person, I consider my self very outgoing and sociable. I always try to have a sense of humor, and am always up for new adventures. I can also be a little conservative, I know those are a little contrasting, but I think you need to have a balance of both in life. Thanks for taking the time to let me tell you a little bit about myself. Drop me a line anytime, always looking to make new friends!!

Jonni922

Someone just threw a rock through my bedroom window. I heard nothing before or after the smash, no running steps, no voices. The why is as much a question as the who dunnit? At this time of night there are no children out at play. Also, as I live on the second floor of the building it is probably a random stone let fly by a late night wanderer. Fortunately I have another bed and other pillows to use. Even better I was working here at the computer and not already asleep (as I should have been). It would have done some harm as the glass cut through the mosquito net and the rock itself lay where my head would have been.

I have checked all around outside, intrepid, armed with a broom and nothing stirs beyond the multitude of warty frogs lured out of hiding by the dance of winged termites in the air around the external lights. My mother's apartment is secure and I can hear her sleeping.

So I will resign myself to a slighty unsettled night and deal with the rest tomorrow.

I'm lonely as heck, but I don't think I'll be finding anyone.

hi , i'm just a southern gal. lookin for some fun. i guess i'm lookin for prince charming, you might say, but i'll face it i won't find him.

Humans are born alone. They die alone. They go in their grave, also alone, most of the times. Most of the people say and think that Man is alone. Man is alone, indeed, but he cant live alone! He or she needs a close friend, a soulmate. Here, on this web site, we can see a lots of males and females looking for their mates. So, although we are alone but we cant live alone.

When we start our search for a soulmate or a new soulmate, we look for similarities, for matching points. It is believed that the ages of the partners must be close to each other for a happy relationship, but it is not a universal law. On the other hand, old ladies and gentelmen, some if not all, also love to enjoy the beauty and youthfullness of young boys and girls.

For example, my class fellow Linda (not a real name) is 26 years old and beautiful girl. She is unmarried and from India. Our common professor, is according to him, is about 61 years old. He is continously trying to attract Linda. He is trying his best, and I can hope, that one day he will be successfull in taking her to his room. Why I am not doing the same try? Well, I am not intrested in her and in addition, the competition is tough.

Well, Linda is also intrested but feeling shy. One can hope, that very soon they will start to have a beautiful moments together. On the other hand, I have observed some cases where a 55 years old lady is having an affair with a 28 years old boy!

Some people say, it is nice to have younger soulmates for the both ends. Why? The reason is that youngsters are not socially and financially stable but the older people are, most of the times. On the other hands, there are some people who say, one should have relationship with the people in his or her own age group.

Suppose, you are 25 years girl and a man of 60 years aof age is intrested in you, and also vice versa, what would be your response???

Just showered skin sheened and slick with fresh made sweat, sun doing its best to pull moisture into the air to make its thunderstorms. The taste of chocolate lingers, powering the swing of arms, of legs, forward and back the motive force that takes a body through time and space to some imagined destination.

Limbs thrum with the slight muscle shake of prolonged exertion; sweat rivulets, collects in dimples at the base of the spine overflowing sweet curve of flesh that flexes, full of power, and keeps on moving on.

Breath rasps, just a little, lungs clear of smoke for eight years bellow strongly, wheezing just a little round the fist sized circle shown on an X-ray a year ago. Some alien invader already once removed, now back; unwanted tenant that will stay, for eviction would mean blood and broken bones, flesh laid open far too deep. Not this time. Not this body.

The terrain shifts. The grass is harsher than the road, entwined with discarded thorns and rootlets to pierce the soles of unwary feet no matter how hardened and everywhere the scent of khus khus, vetiver. The oil of harmony that calms and soothes and still the restless mind. The edge is near.

The view has changed. Oh, Port St, Charles still sits, an elegant lagoon inviting the rich with their sheeted ships to port. An enclave closed to those who live here, dues for the year US$100K a tariff far too high for local consumption. The sea still stretches, turquoise, royal blue, steel grey, into the sky a marriage in the west that flames each sunset when there are no clouds. The beach is still ours, by law there are no private beaches here and access must be given. The fishing boats list lazily on their perch of empty petrol drums, just waiting to be drawn. The beach is silver-gold sunbleached and shining with reflected light, small green apples from the manchineel tree inviting the unwary to taste their poison, to blister skin and bring a colic, bearing death for the weak.

Across the road from Port St. Charles the earth is bare and dark. Twenty six acres bore the muscled push of bright yellow machines uprooting trees seeded before my birth. Progress carving its cold lines into green swathes that fell so easily. New development, more condos more marinas more for the overseas investor who will buy and not live here. Engaging in auctions that force the price of land beyond the pockets of sons and daughters of the soil coming of age or even those of us returning home to find our heritage turned to cash without a word, not even the offer of a first refusal. Roots carefully reserved no longer have a place to home to, may never have a patch of soil to stretch their tendrils in. No matter.

So the view from the cliff, the edge, foretells the future of the dispossessed within their own lands and people wonder why the bright smiles have faded giving way to violence and scowls. The natives are restless, without our land, without the promise of our continuity we, who were never nomads, become a rootless people without center paying rents that buy us shelter and no more; watching supermarket shelves all filled with foreign, high priced cans and packages beyond our means while local produce rots in the fields because the farmers cannot sell it to the stores.

My morning run has not lifted me this day. Even I, a piece of non-politically minded fluff, must put this into words that ring so sullen where I prefer the clear tone of crystal. But words are like feathers, like children's hand patting at a fire that rages. We do it to ourselves. We sell our lands and give ourselves away. And then we riot claiming progress has 'unfaired us' as we bajans say. And I, a bajan to the bone, flourish my feathers and pat my hands, even roll my body on the flames. I cannot win a battle that is not even fully acknowledged, but I am responsible and will take my stand where ever it may lead me.

A dream of never ending flowers that flow through fields and over hilltops of green so true, will come soon, maybe not this year, but soon!!The emerald isle awaits tempting even the emptiest of all hearts with the call of its sirens song! While the fairies dance and the mermaids sing, fate plays her hand in placing a seed of the most potent magic within two hearts. Oceans apart from each other, they yearn for one another, seeking the other, til the timing is rite and fate plays her trump bringing both hearts to fulfill their hearts fondest desire!

I can't give solutions to all of life's problems, doubts,
or fears. But I can listen to you, and together we will
search for answers.

I can't change your past with all it's heartache and pain,
nor the future with its untold stories.
But I can be there now when you need me to care.

I can't keep your feet from stumbling.
I can only offer my hand that you may grasp it and not fall.

Your joys, triumphs, successes, and happiness are not mine;
Yet I can share in your laughter.

Your decisions in life are not mine to make, nor to judge;
I can only support you, encourage you,
and help you when you ask.

I can't prevent you from falling away from friendship,
from your values, from me.
I can only pray for you, talk to you and wait for you.

I can't give you boundaries which I have determined for you,
But I can give you the room to change, room to grow,
room to be yourself.

I can't keep your heart from breaking and hurting,
But I can cry with you and help you pick up the pieces
and put them back in place.

I can't tell you who you are.
I can only love you and be your friend

After many years of travel.
searching for myself,
I do believe I've found me,
deep in someone else.

For, you have made me realize
it's not myself I seek,
but the beauty in a morning,
like the softness when you speak;

the lovely in an evening,
like the color in your eyes;
the passion in our meetings,
like the pleasure in your sighs;

the heaven of creating,
at times when We are One;
and the bliss of relaxation,
as we sleep beneath the Sun.