What Built this City


I have a dream…

It’s a simple dream. Not necessarily a do-or-die dream. I dream of not dying alone. This is just one of the many dreams I have for my life, but it seems to be the most challenging dream. Many of my other life goals have been reached or are in progress.

My kids are great. I have two, an 18-year-old son and a 14 year-old daughter. I am on the downhill swing on that one! Heyyyyyy! They are exceptional humans and I love everything about them. I have devoted the last 18 years of my life to them and I don’t regret one single second.

My job is amazing. I love my work. I love my co-workers. I love the organization I work for. It’s very satisfying and challenging all at the same time. I get to do something I love. I get to do something meaningful. I get to make an impact. I. Am. So. Lucky!

I have a fabulous friend group. They are supportive and encouraging. They roll with me no matter what, unconditional love for days! They cherish my weird-hippie-nerdy-fickle personality. I love them so much.


Something is missing. Not like a puzzle piece. Not like, a part of me is vacant. No, no, I am complete. Let’s not get into all that. But I would like to have someone to share this blessed life with.

After the divorce I spent a couple of years recuperating. I recommend this nice long time period devoid of romantic relationships to anyone who has felt like their life was devastated by the disintegration of their marriage. I needed time to heal. I needed time to focus on my children and recreate a family dynamic. I needed time to figure out who I was now.

After that, I dipped my toe into the cold, shallow dating pool a very small number (two) of times. Those times didn’t work out the way I would have liked, however, I am grateful for them because I learned a lot.

Then, the waiting…..

I spent a lot of years waiting. (See my other blog post, The Lies That Single Christian Women Cling To for more on “The Waiting.”)

Then I turned 40.

That was traumatic. I have been schooled by the rom-com/sex-in-the-city notion that love after 40 is about as likely as sprouting a unicorn horn and mermaid tail. I was 40. I was single. Good God. I’m as good as dead…alone.

However, I am a positive, forever hopeful person. I’m more of an anything-is-possible kind of girl than an I’m-okay-with-dying-alone kind of girl. So, I decided to problem-solve!

Thank you, internet… (?)

Thank you, internet, for making it so easy to find a guy in this busy, fast-paced life. (<<< sarcasm.) But that’s what I did…I went online and what followed was a series of comical interactions that you couldn’t make up if you wanted to. These are those stories for your enjoyment!

**Disclaimer: These stories are 98.8% true. Identities have been shielded to protect the innocent and misguided.

About the title: (Mostly) Chaste in the City refers to my choice to remain (mostly) abstinent during my quest for a ticket on the Love Boat. I would rather respect myself in the morning. I am aware that’s not the norm, but hey, I’m not normal.


When George Bailey didn’t exist, Mary was an just old maid closing up the library…. (from It’s a Wonderful Life.) I’m not sure I would mind that alternate ending…