My friend Simon is a lot of things. He is a filmmaker, a chocolate cake enthusiast, a critic, a cynic, and a button-up wearer. He is also right. Not all the time, but a good chunk of the time.  Last night, he was right. He suggested I respond to a young man’s invitation by simply writing, “No Thanks.” I have never been good at harsh, solid responses to men. I try to be polite and ladylike. So I buffered my response with an, “I don’t really know you.”  Simon was right.  A simple “No Thanks” would have been better.

In my own defense, the guy said, “I know you live in Canada and all, but I think we should start doing something.” I wasn’t sure if that was a euphemism for something else, so, despite the thousand other reasons I felt no inclination to respond positively, I felt that I ought to decline the offer. That and I don’t respond to facebook messages that begin with the words, “hey mama.” Especially not from a white guy.

Of course the guy followed up, insisting that we could get to know each other, and I found myself responding with a classic bull-filled response about being so over long distance relationships and being too busy with school and work.  Well, I suppose my response was honest enough. I am “so over” long distance relationships. And I am very busy with work and school and trying to finish a damn novel. But would those things really matter if I met someone with whom I had real chemistry? No. They just wouldn’t stand up as a real reason to not pursue the elusive Mr. Right. Or someone that seemed awfully right, for that matter. If I met someone I really hit it off with, distance and busyness would seem like very small obstacles.

Last summer’s brief spell dating a man that shall only be known as “Jersey Shore” (total guido!) was enough to remind me that I should only get involved with someone I really click with. Over the past year, I’ve also learned that I need to stop looking for Kevin 2.0. It would be so easy to continue looking for someone “just like Kevin, only he doesn’t do [insert frustrating thing] and actually likes [thing I like].”  I’m over it. I’ve moved on. And I need another Kevin about as much as he needs another Naomi. I’m pretty sure that amount roughly equates to “not at all, not even a little.”

So where does that leave me?  Single.

Sometimes I feel like I have become incredibly picky, but looking at the guys I’ve been involved with in the past, I know I haven’t been picky enough. I’d rather spend a lengthy period watching all my friends pair off and settle down than to keep dating for the sake of dating. It’s just frustrating. I feel like I’m finally at a place where I’m emotionally ready for another serious relationship, but I’m just not meeting any one that catches my fancy.

I still believe in fairytales and true love and being swept of my feet. Actually, the problem is that I’m just not willing to settle for anything less.

Now, if you excuse me, I shall go find my copy of Sense and Sensibility; perhaps Jane Austen will hold the answers.