Did you have a good weekend? Good, because I didn't - had a lousy one, with my untimely cold. By Sunday evening, it had degenerated into an extremely sore throat, and I had one of those nights were you're scared to go to sleep in case you wake up choking. On Monday morning, I decided to search the Internet for folk remedies, rather than go to the doctor and get antibiotics. I came across a couple of different pages that suggested gargling every hour with a drink made from hot water, a teaspoon each of apple cider vinegar and cayenne pepper, and three tablespoons of clover honey. It sounded noxious, but, surprisingly, it actually didn't taste too bad. And it worked - by the next morning I was well enough to go back to work. Let's hear it for self-medication.

I was unable to talk to my boyfriends all weekend, however. I'm using the term boyfriend in the jokey sense with which one gay friend asks another about his most recent blind-date. I've been cautiously dipping my feet back into the dating world, and the water is surprisingly warm. My first date took place last week. Met the guy at a cafe near the Castro, and had a good chat. He was, let's see, twelve years my junior, wore a goatee and one of those little tufts of hair under the lips which no doubt has a name. Despite our differences, though, I enjoyed our conversation. It was only after an hour or so that I suddenly realized, hey, he's asked me scarcely anything about myself. Aren't I supposed to be the fascinating one, considering my age, wisdom and experience? Right.

I offered to give him a lift home. Until I dropped him off, there'd been not the slightest sign from either of us that this was anything other than a platonic encounter. But, as we arrived at his place, he became suddenly amorous and we shared a couple of kisses. I drove off into the evening feeling younger than when I started the evening.

But maybe not young enough, because the guy has since been coming on a little bit too strongly considering we've had a single date. That's, unfortunately, the kiss-of-death for me. Part of me insists that it's abnormal for somebody to be saying that he misses me after one date. Okay, a large part of me, and I'm right, it is abnormal. Part of me is astonished that someone like him who's participated in the gay dating wars of San Francisco can be so naive. But the final part of me feels badly that he's setting himself for me to hurt his feelings. Why can't dating be easy?

Actually, last night, it was fairly easy. I had a date with another young man, though this guy was only five years younger than me. We'd had a great chat on the phone; he seemed masculine, uninhibited, funny, bright. I was suspicious - his photo had been a little fuzzy, maybe his looks wouldn't match his personality. We'd agreed to meet in the lobby of my apartment building and walk over to a nearby bar. As I walked over from the elevator to the lobby entrance, I wondered if there'd be a big disappointment; for either of us. But ... wow, he was cute. Very cute.

We had a pretty great conversation, but I'm not sure anything can really come out of it. This is where my own insecurities start to appear. The guy was one of the most centered gay men I've ever met. And while our conversation was fun and relaxed, I found myself realizing how hard it would be to fit into the life of somebody like him, with his wide, intimate, outgoing circle of friends.

My life is definitely not like "Sex in the City." And the contrast between these two different dates seems to be the crux of why I find it so hard to make new friends. And this applies to potential boyfriends too. If somebody has a vacancy in their life for new friends, I frequently find that it's because their life is somewhat flat, and I find myself imagining being able to fit in with them, but also finding that I'm not really that interested in doing so. But show me somebody with an attractive, rich, full life, and I'm like a poor kid outside Tiffanys, pushing my nose up against the window but doubting I can get inside.

That's not to say I wouldn't go out with the guy I met last night. I'd love to just have a fling with him, no strings attached, and just enjoy myself. Jeez, it's been long enough since I last had sex. Around Christmas, I believe. And I've continued to be extremely horny now that the exhibitionistic outlet of the webcam has been removed.

I keep telling my therapist that I really shouldn't even be dating. That I'm not emotionally ready for it. And I think there's a large amount of truth to that. But you can't easily dismiss that longing for affection that springs on you. Even with hypnosis. I don't think I mentioned that my therapist is actually a licensed hypnotist. Thus far, it's been standard talk-therapy. But a couple of weeks ago, she hypnotized me for the first time. It wasn't anything like you might expect; it essentially just felt as if I closed my eyes and relaxed for a while - even drifted off for a second or two here and there. At one point, when she first said "Your eyelids are feeling very heavy", I burst into helpless laughter because it seemed too much like television. Whatever happened, though, whether it was the placebo effort or something more mysterious, the session did seem to have a positive effect, and the following week saw me in the most positive and contented mood I've experienced all year.

(Quick aside for Bob: don't think that just because I gargled with a folk-remedy and subjected myself to hypnosis that I'm all of a sudden going new age!)

Whatever positive energy I've had has continued to be channelled into my screenwriting class. Once more I present you with this week's five-page screenwriting exercise. This week's script had the following parameters you had to follow: four characters, one location, continuous time. Character A wants to introduce a significant other to his or her loved ones and have them accepted. Somebody has a hidden agenda. Your script had to show whether or not the significant other was accepted, and what was the hidden agenda. So here's my effort: "The Significant Significant Other." I don't think it works quite as well as the previous two, but it was great fun to write.