Date local. My favorite prof., a Friar, in my Marriage and Family course, talked about meeting someone who’s nearby, like the boy next door. He called it “propinquity.” Except it was the other way around. They tried to make propinquity into some sociological value to make it scientific.
I didn’t marry the boy next door, or anyone I would have thought of marrying. I married a genius from Texas, a nerd. To all those gals who didn’t look at him in high school or college because he was too smart, boo-hoo for you. We did meet locally, far from where we grew up.
There’s now a site for local dating that I applaud as I do cooking and eating local foods in season. I’m just glad I’m no longer “out there” on the market. Packing for a trip isn’t a really big thing, but I’ve a list for the dog (who is going elsewhere) and for us. And my love has not packed a bag in ten years! But that’s OK. We each have our strengths. He’s in charge of electronics.
So eat local, and date local. Long-distance relationships are a pain anyway. Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 