INSERT INTO `wp_posts` VALUES (10146,1,'2012-03-20 22:03:27','2012-03-21 05:03:27','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and then wondered what if?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-113','','','2012-03-20 22:03:27','2012-03-21 05:03:27','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-113/',0,'revision','',0),(10147,1,'2012-03-20 22:05:17','2012-03-21 05:05:17','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways and then wondered, \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-114','','','2012-03-20 22:05:17','2012-03-21 05:05:17','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-114/',0,'revision','',0),(10148,1,'2012-03-20 22:06:11','2012-03-21 05:06:11','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways and later wondered, \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-115','','','2012-03-20 22:06:11','2012-03-21 05:06:11','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-115/',0,'revision','',0),(10149,1,'2012-03-20 22:07:03','2012-03-21 05:07:03','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-116','','','2012-03-20 22:07:03','2012-03-21 05:07:03','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-116/',0,'revision','',0),(10150,1,'2012-03-20 23:23:53','2012-03-21 06:23:53','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-117','','','2012-03-20 23:23:53','2012-03-21 06:23:53','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-117/',0,'revision','',0),(10151,1,'2012-03-20 23:24:18','2012-03-21 06:24:18','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-118','','','2012-03-20 23:24:18','2012-03-21 06:24:18','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-118/',0,'revision','',0),(10156,1,'2012-03-20 23:34:57','2012-03-21 06:34:57','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-123','','','2012-03-20 23:34:57','2012-03-21 06:34:57','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-123/',0,'revision','',0),(10152,1,'2012-03-20 23:24:22','2012-03-21 06:24:22','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-119','','','2012-03-20 23:24:22','2012-03-21 06:24:22','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-119/',0,'revision','',0),(10153,1,'2012-03-20 23:27:43','2012-03-21 06:27:43','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them in security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-120','','','2012-03-20 23:27:43','2012-03-21 06:27:43','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-120/',0,'revision','',0),(10154,1,'2012-03-20 23:29:00','2012-03-21 06:29:00','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out to the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans while trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-121','','','2012-03-20 23:29:00','2012-03-21 06:29:00','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-121/',0,'revision','',0),(10155,1,'2012-03-20 23:32:26','2012-03-21 06:32:26','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you are Mr. Gorgeous Bloke,  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">I look forward to hearing from you.  </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-122','','','2012-03-20 23:32:26','2012-03-21 06:32:26','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-122/',0,'revision','',0),(10157,1,'2012-03-20 23:43:24','2012-03-21 06:43:24','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat more this go-round? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-124','','','2012-03-20 23:43:24','2012-03-21 06:43:24','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-124/',0,'revision','',0),(10158,1,'2012-03-20 23:50:09','2012-03-21 06:50:09','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors have sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-125','','','2012-03-20 23:50:09','2012-03-21 06:50:09','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-125/',0,'revision','',0),(10159,1,'2012-03-20 23:54:48','2012-03-21 06:54:48','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the ending, or can you help me base it on true events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-126','','','2012-03-20 23:54:48','2012-03-21 06:54:48','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/20/10029-revision-126/',0,'revision','',0),(10160,1,'2012-03-06 21:34:31','2012-03-07 04:34:31','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190131.jpg\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-7882\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190131-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>In case you\'ve missed the past few blog posts, here\'s a recap:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/10/11/day-356-my-very-first-concussion-italian-style/\" target=\"_blank\">Day 356</a></strong>, I crash-boom-splatted, hit my head, cracked my helmet, and was absolutely fine except for a Massive Headache.  The tour leaders asked me to sit the rest of the day out.  Phooey.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/10/13/day-357-tuscan-coast-van-tour-and-montebelli-sigh/\" target=\"_blank\">Day 357</a></strong>, Massive Headache/Massive Head Squeeze continued, and I wisely chose to stay cooped up in a van with a hot-blooded Italian male who spoiled me rotten with cappuccinos, gelato, and excessive compliments.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn Day 358, the last cycling day of our tour, I felt a bit better and decided to get my hiney back on that bike.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMany of you who remember the details from Day 356 are now freaking out.  Everybody breathe!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, as it turns out, I had a concussion.  Yes, when you have a concussion, you are not allowed to do ANYTHING where you might hit your head again including...getting back on a bike.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhy?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBecause if you slam your head into the pavement a second time, it could cause a brain bleed, which would cause the Late Bloomer to wilt.  Permanently.  Instead of blooming, she\'d be pushing up daisies.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Oops!  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPlease recall that I didn\'t know I had a concussion until 12 days later when I checked my foggy, headachy self into the ER.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the morning of Day 358, with the knowledge I had at that time, I sucked it up and rode.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe number one question that I\'ve been asked since is, \"Were you scared to ride after your crash?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNo.  I wasn\'t scared.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was TERRIFIED!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut as they said in that old deodorant commercial, \"Never let them see you sweat.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI opted for the role of weakest link and hid at the back of the pack where Fabio 1 coached me through my comeback.  It\'s easier conquering your fears when coaxed by a gregarious Italian man with a sexy accent.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7883\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"Weakest Link Advantages: Private Tour Guide Who Breaks for Kitties\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190128.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7883\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190128-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7885\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"And fills your water bottle for you.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190130.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7885\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190130-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI did it!  I cycled the full 28 miles that day, including a brutal uphill at the very end.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI originally planned to ride for the morning only, but I was sidetracked in the old town of Castiglione della Pescaia, and therefore missed the van back to Montebelli.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7888\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"Sidetracked\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190134.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7888\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190134-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter imbibing a surprisingly well-made mojito, and yet another pizza for lunch, I was determined to hike up the hill to the castle.  The first inhabitants of this town were the Etruscans and the Romans.  During medieval times, a fortress was built to defend the city from pirate attacks.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7890\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"Yes, I needed to get up THERE. Maybe I should have drunk only 1/2 of the mojito.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190141.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7890 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190141-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am so glad that I missed that van.  Look at what I would have missed!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190155.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7894\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190155-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190156.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7895\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190156-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\nThis is my new dream home.  I think I could live here.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190185.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7896\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190185-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190186.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7897\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190186-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\nThe definition of Old World Charm, is it not?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190189.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7898\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190189-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190158.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7899\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190158-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\nThe reward for the climb.  Fabio 1 told us that we\'d be able to see the island of Monte Cristo off in the distance.  I think that\'s it in the background of the photo on the right.  (Yes, we\'re talking about the island known for The Count!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190166.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7901\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190166-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190170.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7902\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9190170-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\nLeft:  Oh, what a view!\r\n\r\nRight:  Italians graffiti everything, and I do mean <em>everything</em>.  Click the photo on the right to enlarge and see what I mean.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI took a risk, and it paid off.  Don\'t you just love it when that happens?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Late Bloomer\'s Newfound Words of Wisdom:</strong>  </span>DO pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and ride all over again.  You might just create Memories of a Lifetime.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Late Bloomer\'s Newfound Words of Wisdom Part \"Due\" (That\'s \"two\" in Italian):</strong></span>  DON\'T consume a mojito at lunch, followed by half a bottle of wine at dinner, followed by a nightcap, and then board a bouncy bus for Rome the next day.  To be continued....\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 358:  Picked Myself Up, Dusted Myself Off, and Rode All Over Again','','inherit','open','open','','7876-revision-34','','','2012-03-06 21:34:31','2012-03-07 04:34:31','',7876,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/06/7876-revision-34/',0,'revision','',0),(10161,1,'2012-03-12 22:12:21','2012-03-13 05:12:21','<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"> </span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\">Holy crap!</span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"> </span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"> </span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\">You\'re not going to believe the photo below!!</span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst I need to set up our ghostly adventure.  You didn\'t think I was going to whip out the photo right away and kill the suspense, did you?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn Day 57, the four Ghost Huntresses (me, Christy Jo, Becky Jo, and Sarah) abandoned the comfort and safety of our homes to check into one of the most haunted places in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn case you were wondering, yes, we\'re nuts.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd also a lot of fun.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd exceptionally brave when Patron is involved.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe arrived at the <a href=\"http://www.jeromegrandhotel.net/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Jerome Grand Hotel</strong> </a>around dinner time.  The dark and <span style=\"text-decoration: line-through;\">stormy</span> chilly full moon night set the stage for an eerie everning.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Jerome Grand Hotel sits on the top of the hill over the town of Jerome which we all agreed looked uber-creepy.  Christy Jo started panicking as she drove up the hill.  Apparently, she noticed a bedroom light flashing on and off.   This coupled with the (no) vacancy sign flickering only a \"cy\" reminded her way too much of the Bates motel.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><span style=\"font-size: large;\">Even I, with all of my bravado, had a \"What the hell have I gotten us into?!?!\" moment.</span></span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe all shrieked like school girls as we unloaded our bags from the car.  We schlepped up to the hotel and checked in with a front desk attendant who (God bless him) had no idea that I was about to grill him with 15 minutes worth of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNow that I think about it, his rambling and long-winded answers were probably a ploy to keep the excited hottie girls from Phoenix down in the uneventful lobby for as long as he could.  His scheme worked.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><strong><span style=\"color: #ff0000;\">We found out that our Room 10 had seen \"activity\".  </span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"> </span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nChristy Jo flipped through the guest log and found entries for Room 10 which included bed covers flung off in the middle of the night.  The rest of it I can\'t tell you.  I seemed to have blocked it out as a protective mechanism.  If you want, I can go through hypnosis for another blog day to uncover the lost memory.  Or Christy Jo could just comment below, I suppose.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhen I stumbled around the hotel website prior to our visit, I unearthed stories of wheezing and coughing coming from room corners.  (The hotel was formerly a hospital.  And yes, there were mental patients because I asked in my 15 minute round of questioning.  I knew there had to be some reason why their restaurant is named The Asylum.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf you\'re not catching my drift, there could be crazy ghosts floating around the hotel which is somehow more unnerving than sane ghosts.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOther guest experiences have included (but have not been limited to) strange noises, TVs turning on and off, voices, and unexplained smells of dust and flowers.  There have also been reports of cigarette and whisky smells which I think is most obviously a dead country music singer living it up in the afterlife.\r\n\r\n<br class=\"spacer_\" />Guests also claim to have seen orbs of light, ectoplasm (wtf?!), apparations of a nurse, and a woman in white.  According to legend, the woman and her baby died in childbirth.  The woman in white is distraught over the treatment of her child who was buried in an unmarked grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\">Are you scared yet?  :-o </span></span></span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s a first-hand account from my friend, Perry, who didn\'t believe in ghosts until after his stay at the Jerome Grand Hotel.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the middle of the night, Perry heard kids running up and down the hall.  The kids didn\'t let up, so Perry exited his room to tell them to stop.  There was no one there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhen he returned to his bed, the kids ran amuck again.  Perry was officially pissed.  He swung open the door to an empty hallway.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerry then camped out behind the door with his hand on the knob.  As soon as he heard the kids directly outside his room, he flung open the door.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><strong>No one was there!!!!!  <br class=\"spacer_\" /></strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<br class=\"spacer_\" />At that moment, Perry converted to a believer.  <em>Duh. </em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, back to the Ghost Huntresses stalled in the lobby by the wordy front desk attendant...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhen the girls wanted to strangle me for delaying dinner, I graciously thanked Mr. Front Desk Guy, and we were off!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr up, to be precise.  We boarded an old-fashioned elevator that is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of Claude Harvey.  Claude reportedly met with foul play in the elevator shaft.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe creaked open the door to Room 10 and...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><strong>Boo!  </strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNothing happened.  Just wanted to make sure you are still with me.  :-)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGhost Huntress Sarah immediately scoured the room while I acted like a ghost paparazzi with my camera.  Guests previously captured images and orbs of light at various locations in the hotel.  You can see those pictures <strong><a href=\"http://www.jeromeghosthunting.com/Ghost%20Hunt%20Photos.htm\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>.  </strong>\r\n\r\n<strong> </strong>\r\n\r\nTech savvy Ghost Huntresses Christy Jo and Becky Jo whipped out their iPad and iPhone featuring the Ghost Radar app.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff0000;\">Apple, you crack me up.  Ghost Radar app?!?! </span></span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"> </span></span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff0000;\">hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!</span></span></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGhost Radar not only lit up like a Christmas tree with \"activity\", but it also spat out words that Becky Jo swore pertained to us!  Again, I have blocked out those words in my post-haunted-amnesia, so the other Ghost Huntresses really need to chime in and comment below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the midst of all this mayhem, I excused myself to the ladies room.  After I finished my business, I stood in the bathroom and...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><strong><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\">I screamed bloody murder!!! </span></strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTo freak the girls out.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNothing happened this time either.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe girls gasped, \"Michelle?!?!\" from the room, but when I threw open the door, I found them huddled on the other side of the room ready to make an escape.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI made a mental note that I seriously hoped nothing otherworldly happened that night.  My fellow Ghost Huntresses would be of no help and would be outta there faster than you can say, \"Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter this flurry of photo ops and ghost radar apps, we decided to step out to dinner.  The restaurant was conveniently located right outside our room.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs we entered the lobby, a really ugly/scary statue of a twisted wee man sat on an old wheelchair.  Christy insisted that I pose for a photo.  She directed me to pretend to push the wheelchair from behind.  I, always the method actress, performed a mute scream this time around.  A false alarm with your friends is one thing; a false alarm with dinner guests could get me kicked out of the joint.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nChristy Jo then spazzed out about something with my camera.  I tuned her out while wondering what kind of food The Asylum served.  Becky Jo flipped out as well as she brought me my camera.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd now it\'s time for the photo reveal.  May I have a drum roll, please?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200193.jpg\"><img title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200193-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUh-huh.  Those are orbs, baby.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><strong>Holy Sh#%balls!!!!! </strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI nearly hyperventilated.  I just took dozens of photos of the room, and those images were crystal clear!!!  Well...all of them except one.  Look closely at the back of Sarah\'s leg.  It\'s not a bleach stain, my friends.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200192.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-2109\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200192-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s a frickin\' orb!!!!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNow...when Kimeee saw this photo upon my return, she asked, \"What are these \'orbs\'?  Have you researched them?  What are they supposedly comprised of?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut Kimeee is an attorney, and therefore thinks about things logically and rationally on a daily basis.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI, as her right-brained artsy fartsy friend, see balls of unknown nature in a photo, think back to the mention of orbs on the hotel website, and need no further explanation.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Do you?!?! </span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLadies and 3 token gents, let\'s be perfectly candid with each other, shall we?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><strong>THERE IS NO LOGICAL EXPLANATION!!!! </strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere was nothing on my camera lens.  There were no special lighting effects in the hotel lobby as evidenced by subsequent photos in the same location.  You have my word that I did not alter the photo in any way, shape or form.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe I mentioned that the location of the orbs was merely several feet from our room?!?!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhen you experience the supernatural within 15 minutes of arriving at your room, it\'s time to call out the big guns.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200196.jpg\"><img title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200196-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the rest of the evening, our fear<span style=\"text-decoration: line-through;\">less</span>ful heroines had become comfortably numb.  So who knows if anything else happened.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe did scour the hallways with our Ghost Radar and cameras later on with no trace of anything alarming.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn my humble opinion, the orbs were more than enough.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo there you have it.  The Ghost Huntresses continue to be ghost magnets. <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/11/17/day-51-we-see-dead-people/\" target=\"_blank\">(See Day 51 for our backstory.) </a></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong> </strong>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\">We are now accepting offers for our own </span></span></strong>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"> </span></span></strong>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\">Ghost </span></span></strong><strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\">Huntresses TV show. </span> </span></strong>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"> </span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe\'re prettier, smarter, and infinitely more talented than those morons on <em>The Jersey Shore</em>.  If they can land a TV gig, why can\'t we?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><strong>Here\'s my pitch to The Discovery Channel:  </strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><strong> </strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: x-large;\"><span style=\"color: #ff6600;\"><strong>Charlie\'s Angels Meets Ghostbusters.  <br class=\"spacer_\" /></strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n<strong><br class=\"spacer_\" /></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDreams do come true, my friends.  Dreams do come true!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n***************************************\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nScroll down for more \"interesting\" photos.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB210233.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-2111\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB210233-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\nNone of us noticed this on that fateful night.  You can see another orb in the foreground.  Click the photo, enlarge, and look at what is near Ghost Huntress Becky Jo\'s ankle.  (She\'s the one sitting on the bed while checking out Ghost Radar.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><span style=\"font-size: xx-large;\"><strong>Is that ectoplasm?!?!</strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200194.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-2134\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB200194-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\nThis was taken immediately after discovering the orbs in the Orbs Gone Wild! photo above.  A few remnant orbs are still around and ready for their close-up.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB210198.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-2136\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/PB210198-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\nInnocuous photo of me goofing off again.  This and the tequila shot photo were both taken with my camera.  I told you there was nothing on the lens!  :-o\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 57:  We Saw Dead People (or if you want to be technical, \"orbs\")','','inherit','open','open','','2098-revision-67','','','2012-03-12 22:12:21','2012-03-13 05:12:21','',2098,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/12/2098-revision-67/',0,'revision','',0),(10162,1,'2011-07-26 21:37:55','2011-07-27 04:37:55','<img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-6807\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230044-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" />For a few years now, I\'ve been intrigued by the thought of scaling a wall at a Rock Gym.  Since this 365 project involves me Carpe Diem-ing, I thought, \"Why not now?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWell, you know what they say?  \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAt the<strong><a href=\"http://www.phoenixrockgym.com/\" target=\"_blank\"> Phoenix Rock Gym</a></strong>, they say, \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.  Or dies.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd they\'re not kidding!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs you may have figured out through this blog, I\'m sort of a positive thinker, and honestly, it never crossed my mind that I could get hurt or DIE at the indoor rock gym until I signed this waiver.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6805\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd then saw this sign from across the crowded gym.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6806\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUmmmm...I signed up for a blogilicious activity. Not death!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHOLY CRAP!!!!!  WHAT DID I JUST GET MYSELF INTO????\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know the drill.  Once you\'re there, you better suck it up, Buttercup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere I am at the Rock Gym with Sarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America who has previously scaled Real Rocks!  What I am I going to do?  Shamefully exit the gym like a little wussy girl???  It\'s time to walk the talk, Late Bloomer!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6816\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Breathe...\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6816\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter watching a safety video, a perky young thang strapped Sarah and me up in harnesses while peppering us with questions about the video.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI blurted, \"I am a kinesthetic learner, so I\'m going to need some serious individualized instruction here.  I learn by doing.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerky Young Thang must be an Education major because she knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talking about.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nShe reassured me that Lynn would show Sarah and me the ropes.  Literally and figuratively.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew again!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn (a boy Lynn, not a girl Lynn) was extraordinarily patient with two chatty women who needed to document this rock wall adventure for blogilistic purposes.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6817\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6818\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\">Foreshadowing (insert eerie music of your choice here):</span></strong>  The rope does not go pictured left, it goes pictured right.  Pay attention, girls!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn, The Master of Calm, instructed us to first climb halfway up the wall.  The second time, we\'d go for the gusto to the top.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI volunteered Sarah to go first.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDon\'t judge me!  She\'d done this before, and I needed to watch her to learn!  The whole I Do, We Do, You Do, Gradual Release of Responsibility thing!  Perky Young Thang who\'s more than likely an Education major knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talkin\' about!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America crawled up that wall like it was nobody\'s business.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was PUMPED to follow in her footsteps!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>Oops!  Just kidding!  I mean, I was PANICKED while following in her footsteps.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI shouted down, \"Am I halfway there?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm begged to differ. \"Nope.  You\'ve got a little ways to go.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nCrap.  Crap.  Crap.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI inched up a few more steps and announced, \"I\'m finished!!!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm said (calmly), \"O.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah hoisted me down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>I fessed up immediately.  I looked Master of Calm straight in the eye.  \"I was scared sh*^less!!!!\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm offered, \"That\'s o.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah chimed in with something of a cheerleader-ish, \"You can do it!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI tried again.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers everywhere!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of What-the-Hell-Will-I-Write-About-If-I-Don\'t-Haul-My-Cookies-to-the-Top-of-That-Freakin\'-Wall?!?!?!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6819\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"When you are a Rock Wall Climbing Blogger, you have no choice but to plaster your cookies on the Internet for all God&#39;s children to see. Does this wall make my butt look big?\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6819 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI did it!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Entertaining Writing Material!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd just when Sarah and I thought that the writing material had been exhausted...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6822\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Whoa.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6822\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I was walking over to our stuff to grab a sip of water, Sarah disappeared.  I found her around the corner of the gym checking out the various \"walls\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Let\'s try the walls over here!\" Sarah beamed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI agreed.  \"It\'s far less scary over here!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBefore we knew it, Mr. Muscles 1 and Mr. Muscles 2 came over unsolicited to offer their services.  (Master of Calm had sent us on our merry way after the first climb.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6837\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Mr. Muscles 1 &amp; 2 are not aliens in real life. That&#39;s a side effect of Sarah&#39;s iPhone. You mean to tell me that Crackberries take better photos?!?!\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6837\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nEven with extra tutoring, Sarah and I nearly made a fatal mistake.  (Don\'t worry, Mom.  It would\'ve been Sarah that would have died.  I would have lived with the guilt for the remainder of my life, but I would have walked away without a scratch.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Muscles 1 &amp; Mr. Muscles 2 took a break from chatting us up to climb.  Sarah wanted to go next, and while we geared up, she gushed on about her date the night before with a man who was previously fodder on this blog.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You heard it first right here, Ladies and 3 Token Gents.  The first Diary of a Late Bloomer Love Connection!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThen...from the mist (I\'m not kidding!  That gym is h-u-m-i-d!)...a Rock Gym Guardian Angel appeared.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>He thundered, \"DID YOU DOUBLE CHECK YOUR PARTNER?\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Oh, yes!  Look!\"  Sarah and I bobbed our heads up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRock Gym Guardian Angel grabbed Sarah\'s billet thingie that looked like \"pictured left\" above, and BOOM!  Sarah and I realized that she would have gone CRASH!  BOOM!  SPLAT!  had it not been for our Rock Gym Guardian Angel.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, and I do mean <em>luck</em>ily, Sarah lived to see another day, another date, and another kiss.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6838\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Apple, seriously. You should be ashamed.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6838\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI conquered my fear and lived to write another blog post.  I realized through Sarah\'s near death experience that I need kissing badly.  I want be kissed often, and by somebody who knows how.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*****\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHave you ever climbed a Rock Gym Wall?  A Real Rock?  Would you rather scale a freakin\' wall or have someone kiss you like there\'s no tomorrow?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 300:  Climb Every Mountain.  (Or Every Rock Gym Wall If It\'s 112 Degrees Outside.)','','inherit','open','open','','6799-revision-40','','','2011-07-26 21:37:55','2011-07-27 04:37:55','',6799,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/07/26/6799-revision-40/',0,'revision','',0),(10163,1,'2012-03-21 00:17:16','2012-03-21 07:17:16','<img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-6807\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230044-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" />For a few years now, I\'ve been intrigued by the thought of scaling a wall at a Rock Gym.  Since this 365 project involves me Carpe Diem-ing, I thought, \"Why not now?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWell, you know what they say?  \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAt the<strong><a href=\"http://www.phoenixrockgym.com/\" target=\"_blank\"> Phoenix Rock Gym</a></strong>, they say, \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.  Or dies.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd they\'re not kidding!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs you may have figured out through this blog, I\'m sort of a positive thinker, and honestly, it never crossed my mind that I could get hurt or DIE at the indoor rock gym until I signed this waiver.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6805\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd then saw this sign from across the crowded gym.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6806\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUmmmm...I signed up for a blogilicious activity. Not death!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHOLY CRAP!!!!!  WHAT DID I JUST GET MYSELF INTO????\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know the drill.  Once you\'re there, you better suck it up, Buttercup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere I am at the Rock Gym with Sarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America who has previously scaled Real Rocks!  What I am I going to do?  Shamefully exit the gym like a little wussy girl???  It\'s time to walk the talk, Late Bloomer!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6816\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Breathe...\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6816\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter watching a safety video, a perky young thang strapped Sarah and me up in harnesses while peppering us with questions about the video.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI blurted, \"I am a kinesthetic learner, so I\'m going to need some serious individualized instruction here.  I learn by doing.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerky Young Thang must be an Education major because she knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talking about.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nShe reassured me that Lynn would show Sarah and me the ropes.  Literally and figuratively.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew again!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn (a boy Lynn, not a girl Lynn) was extraordinarily patient with two chatty women who needed to document this rock wall adventure for blogilistic purposes.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6817\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6818\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\">Foreshadowing (insert eerie music of your choice here):</span></strong>  The rope does not go pictured left, it goes pictured right.  Pay attention, girls!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn, The Master of Calm, instructed us to first climb halfway up the wall.  The second time, we\'d go for the gusto to the top.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI volunteered Sarah to go first.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDon\'t judge me!  She\'d done this before, and I needed to watch her to learn!  The whole I Do, We Do, You Do, Gradual Release of Responsibility thing!  Perky Young Thang who\'s more than likely an Education major knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talkin\' about!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America crawled up that wall like it was nobody\'s business.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was PUMPED to follow in her footsteps!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>Oops!  Just kidding!  I mean, I was PANICKED while following in her footsteps.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI shouted down, \"Am I halfway there?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm begged to differ. \"Nope.  You\'ve got a little ways to go.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nCrap.  Crap.  Crap.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI inched up a few more steps and announced, \"I\'m finished!!!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm said (calmly), \"O.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah hoisted me down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>I fessed up immediately.  I looked Master of Calm straight in the eye.  \"I was scared sh*^less!!!!\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm offered, \"That\'s o.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah chimed in with something of a cheerleader-ish, \"You can do it!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI tried again.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers everywhere!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of What-the-Hell-Will-I-Write-About-If-I-Don\'t-Haul-My-Cookies-to-the-Top-of-That-Freakin\'-Wall?!?!?!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6819\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"When you are a Rock Wall Climbing Blogger, you have no choice but to plaster your cookies on the Internet for all God&#39;s children to see. Does this wall make my butt look big?\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6819 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI did it!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Entertaining Writing Material!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd just when Sarah and I thought that the writing material had been exhausted...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6822\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Whoa.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6822\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I was walking over to our stuff to grab a sip of water, Sarah disappeared.  I found her around the corner of the gym checking out the various \"walls\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Let\'s try the walls over here!\" Sarah beamed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI agreed.  \"It\'s far less scary over here!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBefore we knew it, Mr. Muscles 1 and Mr. Muscles 2 came over unsolicited to offer their services.  (Master of Calm had sent us on our merry way after the first climb.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6837\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Mr. Muscles 1 &amp; 2 are not aliens in real life. That&#39;s a side effect of Sarah&#39;s iPhone. You mean to tell me that Crackberries take better photos?!?!\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6837\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nEven with extra tutoring, Sarah and I nearly made a fatal mistake.  (Don\'t worry, Mom.  It would\'ve been Sarah that would have died.  I would have lived with the guilt for the remainder of my life, but I would have walked away without a scratch.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Muscles 1 &amp; Mr. Muscles 2 took a break from chatting us up to climb.  Sarah wanted to go next, and while we geared up, she gushed on about her date the night before with a man who was previously fodder on this blog.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You heard it first right here, Ladies and 3 Token Gents.  The first Diary of a Late Bloomer Love Connection!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThen...from the mist (I\'m not kidding!  That gym is h-u-m-i-d!)...a Rock Gym Guardian Angel appeared.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>He thundered, \"DID YOU DOUBLE CHECK YOUR PARTNER?\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Oh, yes!  Look!\"  Sarah and I bobbed our heads up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRock Gym Guardian Angel grabbed Sarah\'s billet thingie that looked like \"pictured left\" above, and BOOM!  Sarah and I realized that she would have gone CRASH!  BOOM!  SPLAT!  had it not been for our Rock Gym Guardian Angel.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, and I do mean <em>luck</em>ily, Sarah lived to see another day, another date, and another kiss.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6838\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Apple, seriously. You should be ashamed.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6838\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI conquered my fear and lived to write another blog post.  I realized through Sarah\'s near death experience that I need kissing badly.  I want be kissed often, and by somebody who knows how.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*****\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHave you ever climbed a Rock Gym Wall?  A Real Rock?  Would you rather scale a freakin\' wall or have someone kiss you like there\'s no tomorrow?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 300:  Climb Every Mountain.  (Or Every Rock Gym Wall If It\'s 112 Degrees Outside.)','','inherit','open','open','','6799-revision-41','','','2012-03-21 00:17:16','2012-03-21 07:17:16','',6799,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/6799-revision-41/',0,'revision','',0),(10164,1,'2012-03-21 00:18:42','2012-03-21 07:18:42','<img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-6807\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230044-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" />For a few years now, I\'ve been intrigued by the thought of scaling a wall at a Rock Gym.  Since this 365 project involves me Carpe Diem-ing, I thought, \"Why not now?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWell, you know what they say?  \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAt the<strong><a href=\"http://www.phoenixrockgym.com/\" target=\"_blank\"> Phoenix Rock Gym</a></strong>, they say, \"It\'s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.  Or dies.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd they\'re not kidding!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs you may have figured out through this blog, I\'m sort of a positive thinker, and honestly, it never crossed my mind that I could get hurt or DIE at the indoor rock gym until I signed this waiver.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6805\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230024-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd then saw this sign from across the crowded gym.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6806\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230042-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUmmmm...I signed up for a blogilicious activity. Not death!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHOLY CRAP!!!!!  WHAT DID I JUST GET MYSELF INTO????\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know the drill.  Once you\'re there, you better suck it up, Buttercup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere I am at the Rock Gym with Sarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America who has previously scaled Real Rocks!  What I am I going to do?  Shamefully exit the gym like a little wussy girl???  It\'s time to walk the talk, Late Bloomer!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6816\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Breathe...\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6816\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230025-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter watching a safety video, a perky young thang strapped Sarah and me up in harnesses while peppering us with questions about the video.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI blurted, \"I am a kinesthetic learner, so I\'m going to need some serious individualized instruction here.  I learn by doing.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerky Young Thang must be an Education major because she knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talking about.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nShe reassured me that Lynn would show Sarah and me the ropes.  Literally and figuratively.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew again!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn (a boy Lynn, not a girl Lynn) was extraordinarily patient with two chatty women who needed to document this rock wall adventure for blogilistic purposes.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6817\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230026-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-6818\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230028-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\">Foreshadowing (insert eerie music of your choice here):</span></strong>  The rope does not go pictured left, it goes pictured right.  Pay attention, girls!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLynn, The Master of Calm, instructed us to first climb halfway up the wall.  The second time, we\'d go for the gusto to the top.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI volunteered Sarah to go first.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDon\'t judge me!  She\'d done this before, and I needed to watch her to learn!  The whole I Do, We Do, You Do, Gradual Release of Responsibility thing!  Perky Young Thang who\'s more than likely an Education major knew <em>exactly</em> what I was talkin\' about!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah aka Pilates Teacher Extraordinaire aka Ms. Fitness America crawled up that wall like it was nobody\'s business.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was PUMPED to follow in her footsteps!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>Oops!  Just kidding!  I mean, I was PANICKED while following in her footsteps.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI shouted down, \"Am I halfway there?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm begged to differ. \"Nope.  You\'ve got a little ways to go.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nCrap.  Crap.  Crap.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI inched up a few more steps and announced, \"I\'m finished!!!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm said (calmly), \"O.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah hoisted me down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>I fessed up immediately.  I looked Master of Calm straight in the eye.  \"I was scared sh*^less!!!!\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMaster of Calm offered, \"That\'s o.k.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSarah chimed in with something of a cheerleader-ish, \"You can do it!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI tried again.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers everywhere!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of What-the-Hell-Will-I-Write-About-If-I-Don\'t-Haul-My-Cookies-to-the-Top-of-That-Freakin\'-Wall?!?!?!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6819\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"When you are a Rock Wall Climbing Blogger, you have no choice but to plaster your cookies on the Internet for all God&#39;s children to see. Does this wall make my butt look big?\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6819 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230030-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI did it!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Late Bloomers!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Living Curiously!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn the name of Entertaining Writing Material!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd just when Sarah and I thought that the writing material had been exhausted...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6822\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Whoa.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6822\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/P7230035-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I was walking over to our stuff to grab a sip of water, Sarah disappeared.  I found her around the corner of the gym checking out the various \"walls\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Let\'s try the walls over here!\" Sarah beamed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI agreed.  \"It\'s far less scary over here!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBefore we knew it, Mr. Muscles 1 and Mr. Muscles 2 came over unsolicited to offer their services.  (Master of Calm had sent us on our merry way after the first climb.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6837\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Mr. Muscles 1 &amp; 2 are not aliens in real life. That&#39;s a side effect of Sarah&#39;s iPhone. You mean to tell me that Crackberries take better photos?!?!\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6837\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nEven with extra tutoring, Sarah and I nearly made a fatal mistake.  (Don\'t worry, Mom.  It would\'ve been Sarah that would have died.  I would have lived with the guilt for the remainder of my life, but I would have walked away without a scratch.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Muscles 1 &amp; Mr. Muscles 2 took a break from chatting us up to climb.  Sarah wanted to go next, and while we geared up, she gushed on about her date the night before with a man who was previously fodder on this blog.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You heard it first right here, Ladies and 3 Token Gents.  The first Diary of a Late Bloomer Love Connection!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho...\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThen...from the mist (I\'m not kidding!  That gym is h-u-m-i-d!)...a Rock Gym Guardian Angel appeared.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #800080;\"><strong>He thundered, \"DID YOU DOUBLE CHECK YOUR PARTNER?\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Oh, yes!  Look!\"  Sarah and I bobbed our heads up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRock Gym Guardian Angel grabbed Sarah\'s billet thingie that looked like \"pictured left\" above, and BOOM!  Sarah and I realized that she would have gone CRASH!  BOOM!  SPLAT!  had it not been for our Rock Gym Guardian Angel.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, and I do mean <em>luck</em>ily, Sarah lived to see another day, another date, and another kiss.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhew!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_6838\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"223\" caption=\"Apple, seriously. You should be ashamed.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-6838\" title=\"Unnamed\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Unnamed1-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"223\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI conquered my fear and lived to write another blog post.  I realized through Sarah\'s near death experience that I need kissing badly.  I want be kissed often, and by somebody who knows how.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*****\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHave you ever climbed a Rock Gym Wall?  A Real Rock?  Would you rather scale a freakin\' wall or have someone kiss you like there\'s no tomorrow?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 300:  Climb Every Mountain.  (Or Every Rock Gym Wall If It\'s 112 Degrees Outside.)','','inherit','open','open','','6799-revision-42','','','2012-03-21 00:18:42','2012-03-21 07:18:42','',6799,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/6799-revision-42/',0,'revision','',0),(10165,1,'2011-10-03 10:01:55','2011-10-03 17:01:55','[caption id=\"attachment_7693\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Me, Fabio 2 e Mia Cugina\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140038.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7693 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140038-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\nThe day before I left for Italy, my colleague, Allyson, met me at the water cooler to talk about my upcoming trip.  Allyson was especially curious about the bicycle tour portion of my Italian adventure.  She asked me if I had been training.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Well...you know...I work out.  I\'m fit.  I\'ve taken 3 spin classes to reacquaint myself with a bike.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAllyson skipped to the next logical question:  \"When was the last time you were on a real bike?  One that requires balance, shifting gears, etc.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOops!  I forgot about those minor details.  Oh, well.  It was too late now.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI stopped to think about the last time I mounted a real bike.  I couldn\'t remember for certain.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Well...ummm...25 years ago?  When I was in high school?  No, wait!!!!  I rode a bike to campus when I was in grad school!  20 years ago!!!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAllyson burst out laughing.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI sheepishly defended myself.  \"Doesn\'t the saying tell us that it\'s just like getting back on a bike?!?!  How difficult can this be?  The trip is ranked easy to moderate!  Spin class is much harder than a leisurely bike ride!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI kept on with the defense.  \"Plus, it\'s been averaging 116 degrees in Phoenix!  It can\'t possibly be healthy to train in those temps!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAllyson attempted to comfort me.  \"I\'m sure you\'ll be fine.  Can\'t wait to hear all about it!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nShe didn\'t sound convincing.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn Day 353, my cousins and I met with our tour group for the first time in the lobby of our Florence hotel.  I was pleased to learn that we had not one, but two Italian men as our tour leaders.  Benissimo!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTo protect the identities of these incredibly talented and professional leaders, I will herein refer to them as Fabio 1 and Fabio 2.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI knew that it was going to be an anything-but-boring trip when Fabio 1, upon seeing my <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/09/05/day-341-luggage-fashionista/\" target=\"_blank\">new luggage</a></strong>, gestured wildly while exclaiming, \"Michelle!!!  This looks just like Italian luggage!  Che bella!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll 19 of us boarded the bus and headed out from Firenze to the sun-kissed hills of Tuscany.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSince the trip was approximately 90 minutes, we stopped half-way in for a food/cappuccino stop.  Italians need to refuel with caffeine and calories often.  Lucky for me, I grew up in an equally food-obsessed Portuguese family, so it took me exactly 0 seconds to adjust this aspect of the Italian lifestyle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7692\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"Pit stop at the autogrill\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140022.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7692\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140022-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAn \"autogrill\" is a roadside gas station/food mart in Italy.  Sort of like a Circle K in the States.  Except imagine a Circle K serving homemade gelato, high quality espresso, gourmet sandwiches and pastries, and a menu of hot pasta dishes.  Lining the walls, you won\'t see Doritos and candy for sale, but artisan pastas, breads, olive oil and of course, wine.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7688\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"No food on the bus! But what if you&#39;re World&#39;s Slowest Eater and didn&#39;t finish your pastry in the autogrill?!?!\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140023.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7688 \" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140023-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n45 minutes later, we arrived at the <strong><a href=\"http://www.agrihotel-elisabetta.it/elisabetta/english/index.html\" target=\"_blank\">Agrihotel Elisabetta</a>, </strong>a working vineyard, farm, and hotel.  (If you are planning a visit to Italy, I highly recommend researching<strong> <a href=\"http://www.italylogue.com/agriturismo\" target=\"_blank\">agriturismo</a> </strong>for an authentic experience.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter checking into our rustically charming rooms, our leaders summoned us to the veranda for an orientation and a cycling warm-up.  YES!  This is where I would get back on the bike, find my balance, learn how to shift gears, etc.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNOT!  You see, the other people on this tour actually <em>trained</em> for it.  They didn\'t need remedial instruction.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut that\'s o.k.  I had youth on my side which certainly gave me some smattering of physical prowess.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the baby in this group.  With a few 50-something exceptions (including my cousins), this tour group consisted of peeps my parents\' age.  On my last day as a 41 year-old, I was repeatedly called \"kid\".  Isn\'t that the best 40-something birthday present ever?!?!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe leaders directed us to choose a helmet for the duration of our tour.  I picked my Lucky Number 11.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140035.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7683\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140035-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe then made our way to the parking lot for an 8 mile test run on our bikes.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI pulled Fabio 2 aside.  \"Listen.  I need Cycling 101.  I haven\'t been on a bike in 20 years.  What the heck to I do with these gears?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe looked puzzled, and then patiently walked me through the gears.  Basically, I was not to touch the gears on the left, but I could fiddle- faddle with the ones on the right until I was cycling easily.  Piece of cake!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat I forgot to ask for in my Cycling One-on-One was how to dismount without nearly falling into traffic.  You see, to get to those Tuscan hills, one must navigate through traffic just like anywhere else.  Were you expecting a completely pastoral setting???  I was.  Oops again!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFortunately for me, practically every Italian rides a bike.  Therefore, when they\'re behind the wheel of car, they pay attention.  i.e., they beep their horn while steering around American novices.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI took deep breaths and focused on the beauty of my surroundings once I stopped dodging cars.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150068.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7696\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150068-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter our refreshing, easy ride, I was the last to pull into the Agrihotel Elisabetta.  So much for youth.  I mused that my 65 year-old father is a marathon runner, and my fellow tour group members are cycling ANIMALS!  The 60s are obviously the new 40s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs for me -- the group baby -- I needed a tricycle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe pool beckoned.  But first, I needed to learn how to dismount properly.  I didn\'t remember a bike feeling this tall.  Only my tip-tip-toes touched the ground when I stopped.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI called Fabio 1 over for a post-ride debrief.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"Listen.  I need Cycling 101.  I haven\'t been on a bike in 20 years.  How the heck to do I gracefully get off this thing without killing myself in traffic?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFabio 1 smirked, shot me \"the look\", and then patiently taught me how to safely stop and get off my bike.  I never had this issue in spin class.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFabio 1 then informed me that he was the cycling leader for our first ride the next morning.  He would hold up the rear, and since we all knew that I was officially the weakest link, this meant that I would receive one-on-one treatment for the entire day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"You stay with me tomorrow,\"  Fabio 1 commanded.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n\"O.k.,\" I replied, as any bright American woman would.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat night, I eased my nerves with vino, vino, and more vino during a tour of Elisabetta\'s wine cellar with owner, Luigi.  Fabio 1 offered translation while Fabio 2 stood in the background looking like an Italian Matthew McConaughey.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140045.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7701\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140045-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAfter two glasses of wine, I knew that tomorrow\'s ride would be just fine.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7702\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"300\" caption=\"Baby M, Fabio 1, and Luigi\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000225.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7702\" title=\"P1000225\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000225-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf you would like more information on The Tuscan Coast bicycle tour, please visit <strong><a href=\"http://www.vbt.com\" target=\"_blank\">www.vbt.com.</a></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 353:  It\'s just like getting back on a bike.  Riiiggghhhht.  ','','inherit','open','open','','7660-revision-37','','','2011-10-03 10:01:55','2011-10-03 17:01:55','',7660,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/10/03/7660-revision-37/',0,'revision','',0),(10166,1,'2011-10-24 21:31:20','2011-10-25 04:31:20','[caption id=\"attachment_7729\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"225\" caption=\"By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea!\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150062.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7729\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150062-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\nOne year ago from Day 354, I took off the training wheels and <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/09/15/day-1-look-mom-im-a-big-girl-blogger-now/\" target=\"_blank\">started a big girl blog</a> </strong>on my birthday.  Stuck in a funk, I dreamed up an idea of Living Curiously each day for 365 days.  On September 15th, 2010, I never imagined that I would be celebrating my 42nd birthday by cycling through the hills of Tuscany with my cousins.  This Late Bloomer had never been to Europe, although I had always hoped for \"someday\".  Living Curiously magically transformed \"someday\" into \"now\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(If you\'re wondering why September 15th, 2011 was not Day 365, good catch!  You can find out why <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\">here</a></strong>.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn Day 354, our tour group met on the veranda of the <strong><a href=\"http://www.agrihotel-elisabetta.it/elisabetta/english/index.html\" target=\"_blank\">Agrihotel Elisabetta</a></strong> at 8 a.m. for a delicious and nutritious breakfast.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nCorrection:  The group met for breakfast each day at 8 a.m. while I swept in circa 8:11 wondering how <em>on earth</em> this early start-time fit into vacation parameters.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy breakfast of choice each morning was a thick slice of hearty, whole-grain artisan bread slathered with protein-rich ricotta and a drizzle of honey.  And a cappuccino, of course.  The first of many throughout the day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFabio 1 and Fabio 2 -- always \"on\", organized, and funny -- showed up at 8:30 for a debrief of the day\'s itinerary.  All of the other 16 tour members had their directions handy and ready to mark up for the journey ahead.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBaby M opted to continue to sip her cappuccino and munch on her new-found favorite breakfast because why <em>on earth</em> would I a) tax my brain with directions while I\'M ON VACATION and b) mess with directions when I had Fabio 1 as my personal tour guide???  (If you have no idea what I\'m referring to, please refer to <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/10/02/day-353-its-just-like-getting-back-on-a-bike-riiiggghhhht/\" target=\"_blank\">Day 353</a></strong>.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7726\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Following directions is a drag. Personal coaching is much preferred.\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150060.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7726\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150060-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe set off to enjoy a 15 mile morning ride where we caught our first glimpse of the sea!  I\'m an ocean baby at heart, and I couldn\'t have hand-picked a more satisfying birthday present.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn case you\'re wondering whether or not this was a nude beach . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWalking our bikes along the shore, my cousin nearly threw his neck out whilst craning his head to watch a woman relax into her birthday suit.  She was probably around 70.  But she was naked as a jaybird.  That\'s all that mattered.  American men are so predictable!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would like to think that I am beyond that.  Here\'s what caught my eye:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150065.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7736\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150065-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are numerous reasons why I love Italia.  Their dog-friendly culture is one of them.  If I lived there, I would take Bella down to the dog beach every chance I could.  Even the dogs are living La Dolce Vita!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAt the end of the morning, after a pretty significant uphill (which I properly trained for with those \"hill\"-crazed spin instructors), we were rewarded with a view of yet another quaint medieval village, Casale Marritimo.  (The original settlement dates back to the Etruscans of the 5th century BC!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150089.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7737\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150089-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150078.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7738\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150078-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFollowing our brief excursion into the village, we all gathered for a luscious picnic prepared by Fabio 2.  The picnic included some sort of Italian cake loaded with candles for birthday wishes, but since I was in the midst of this surprise, I didn\'t take a photo.  Ladies, hopefully Fabio 1 feeding The Birthday Girl pineapple juice will suffice.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150088.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7739\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150088-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150066.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7740\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150066-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWith full bellies and a few sips of a REALLY POTENT Italian wine that I can\'t recall the name of, we headed into the pine forest for a cool and breezy 18 mile afternoon ride.  Our only stops were for water and G.O.D.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_7741\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"225\" caption=\"Water Break\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150064.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-7741\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150064-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nG.O.D. = Gelato of the Day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI tried the Fig and Ricotta along with the Vanilla Milk one that I can\'t remember the name of in Italian.  (Fongool!  What\'s the matter with me?!?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if all this weren\'t enough to make my birthday the Best EVER, how about . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHalf-naked Italian men unloading grapes back at Agrihotel Elisabetta (American women are so predictable!),\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150093.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7742\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150093-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\na taste test between homemade limoncello and \"industrial\" limoncello (homemade wins!),\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150099.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7743\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150099-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\na Fabio 1 group tutorial on the wonders of grappa (I tasted it just as he instructed, and it didn\'t kill me!),\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150100.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7744\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150100-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nand a 2nd birthday cake and candle surprise!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150098.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7745\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150098-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSurely when you are given the rare opportunity to make a birthday wish twice on one birthday, it means that your wish really will come true.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat do you think?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAre you dreaming of an Italian Escape?  If you would like more information on The Tuscan Coast bicycle tour, please visit <strong><a href=\"http://www.vbt.com\" target=\"_blank\">www.vbt.com.</a></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Day 354:  What a Difference a Year Makes!','','inherit','open','open','','7724-revision-28','','','2011-10-24 21:31:20','2011-10-25 04:31:20','',7724,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/10/24/7724-revision-28/',0,'revision','',0),(10182,1,'2012-03-21 10:46:59','2012-03-21 17:46:59','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/psst-pass-it-on-because-love-is-in-the-air/screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7-41-44-pm/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10049\"><img class=\" wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-139','','','2012-03-21 10:46:59','2012-03-21 17:46:59','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-139/',0,'revision','',0),(10167,1,'2012-03-21 00:01:20','2012-03-21 07:01:20','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><strong> WeMetOnaPlane.com</strong></a>:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-127','','','2012-03-21 00:01:20','2012-03-21 07:01:20','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-127/',0,'revision','',0),(10168,1,'2012-03-21 01:10:39','2012-03-21 08:10:39','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a>, </strong>a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-128','','','2012-03-21 01:10:39','2012-03-21 08:10:39','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-128/',0,'revision','',0),(10170,1,'2012-03-21 01:15:03','2012-03-21 08:15:03','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-130','','','2012-03-21 01:15:03','2012-03-21 08:15:03','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-130/',0,'revision','',0),(10169,1,'2012-03-21 01:10:51','2012-03-21 08:10:51','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a>, </strong>a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-129','','','2012-03-21 01:10:51','2012-03-21 08:10:51','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-129/',0,'revision','',0),(10175,1,'2012-03-21 10:45:09','2012-03-21 17:45:09','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-135','','','2012-03-21 10:45:09','2012-03-21 17:45:09','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-135/',0,'revision','',0),(10171,1,'2012-03-21 10:40:15','2012-03-21 17:40:15','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo-300x170.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"170\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-131','','','2012-03-21 10:40:15','2012-03-21 17:40:15','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-131/',0,'revision','',0),(10172,1,'2012-03-21 10:42:04','2012-03-21 17:42:04','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\"><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"507\" height=\"288\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-132','','','2012-03-21 10:42:04','2012-03-21 17:42:04','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-132/',0,'revision','',0),(10173,1,'2012-03-21 10:42:47','2012-03-21 17:42:47','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-133','','','2012-03-21 10:42:47','2012-03-21 17:42:47','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-133/',0,'revision','',0),(10174,1,'2012-03-21 10:43:43','2012-03-21 17:43:43','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-134','','','2012-03-21 10:43:43','2012-03-21 17:43:43','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-134/',0,'revision','',0),(10183,1,'2012-03-21 10:58:58','2012-03-21 17:58:58','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-140','','','2012-03-21 10:58:58','2012-03-21 17:58:58','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-140/',0,'revision','',0),(10176,1,'2012-03-21 10:46:24','2012-03-21 17:46:24','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/psst-pass-it-on-because-love-is-in-the-air/screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7-41-44-pm/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10049\"><img class=\"size-large wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"402\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-136','','','2012-03-21 10:46:24','2012-03-21 17:46:24','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-136/',0,'revision','',0),(10177,1,'2012-03-21 10:46:24','2012-03-21 17:46:24','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/psst-pass-it-on-because-love-is-in-the-air/screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7-41-44-pm/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10049\"><img class=\"size-large wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"402\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-137','','','2012-03-21 10:46:24','2012-03-21 17:46:24','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-137/',0,'revision','',0),(10178,1,'2012-03-21 10:46:59','2012-03-21 17:46:59','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10030\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"322\" height=\"183\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/psst-pass-it-on-because-love-is-in-the-air/screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7-41-44-pm/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10049\"><img class=\" wp-image-10049 alignnone\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-138','','','2012-03-21 10:46:59','2012-03-21 17:46:59','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-138/',0,'revision','',0),(10193,1,'2012-03-29 01:11:02','2012-03-29 08:11:02','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-718/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10196\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10196\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170002-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>I was surfing around the Internet one day and came across a celebration whose name stopped me in my tracks:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The Festival of Creativity.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHow could anyone even <em>remotely</em> creative <em>not</em> attend a festival with a title like that?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is a Festival of Creativity, you ask?  I entertained the same question.  My fellow creative friend, Melanie, and I took it upon ourselves to explore the answer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst of all, there were mimes.  Lots of them.  Colorful ones.  Mimes are (thankfully) not as creepy as clowns, although they are still mildly unnerving.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-719/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10197\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10197\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170007-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-720/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10198\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10198\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170008-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe that my sister and I suffer post-traumatic clown trauma because we belong to the generation that grew up watching <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.smashinglists.com/top-10-famous-badass-clowns/\" target=\"_blank\">Poltergeist</a></em></strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich is why I tried to remain calm when I stumbled across The Leprechaun Clown on Human Growth Hormone.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-721/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10203\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10203\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170011-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-722/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10204\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10204\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170013-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI dealt with my panic by taking a photo from an interesting angle.  Humor is always healing.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along. . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere was an origami table swarming with young children!  I elbowed my way in and parked my hiney next to a 10 year-old.  Adults play too, you know!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-723/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10205\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10205\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170016-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe directions were labeled as \"Expert\", but since this was child\'s play, I figured I could handle it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-724/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10206\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10206\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170017-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUh . . . . no.  I was wrong.  And since I am an adult, I can admit that.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-725/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10207\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10207\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170021-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-726/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10208\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10208\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170022-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLet\'s see, there was also live music to soak in, homemade instruments to play, sidewalk art to jump into just like in Mary Poppins (Oh, how I wish that were true!), a ten foot tall Lego cactus which I had fantasies of knocking down . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-727/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10209\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10209\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170010-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am not sure what overcame me -- perhaps it was because the place was crawling with wee ones -- but I actually verbalized to Melanie, \"Wouldn\'t it be funny if little Johnny got loose from his mom and demolished that sucker?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMelanie looked at me as if I had gone mad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a warped sense of humor.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI found this amusing as well:  Kids spazzing out at the cactus instrument thingie.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee little Janie wielding that cactus branch?  She was trying to hit someone with it while mom was completely oblivious. Heh heh heh.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWarped, I tell you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/bpx3NQ3hlzU\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"480\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nUpon exiting the premises, two of the oldest kids at the festival left their marks on the chalkboard cactus.  (I live in a desert, peeps.  Thus, the plethora of cacti both real and fake.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-728/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10212\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10212\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170028-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/29/playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity/olympus-digital-camera-729/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-10213\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-10213\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170031-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWere Melanie and I inspired to get out there and CREATE?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe used to be singing partners, and we\'ve talked ad nauseam about going out on the road for a World Tour.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat is a joke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut Melanie and I <em>did</em> talk about recording a few of our old duets.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI smell a future playdate.  You will be the first to hear of it when we get our act together and take it to the studio.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFeeling creative?  What sort of creation are you concocting at this time?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #12:  The Festival of Creativity','','publish','open','open','','playdate-12-the-festival-of-creativity','','','2012-03-28 20:04:44','2012-03-29 03:04:44','',0,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?p=10193',0,'post','',2),(10184,1,'2012-03-21 11:22:34','2012-03-21 18:22:34','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a Nicholas Sparks novel.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy due to inclement weather.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-141','','','2012-03-21 11:22:34','2012-03-21 18:22:34','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/21/10029-revision-141/',0,'revision','',0),(10190,1,'2012-03-22 21:52:04','2012-03-23 04:52:04','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a <strong><a href=\"http://www.nicholassparks.com/books/message-in-a-bottle\" target=\"_blank\">Nicholas Sparks novel</a></strong>.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy due to inclement weather.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-143','','','2012-03-22 21:52:04','2012-03-23 04:52:04','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/22/10029-revision-143/',0,'revision','',0),(10189,1,'2012-03-22 13:15:00','2012-03-22 20:15:00','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a <strong><a href=\"http://www.nicholassparks.com/books/message-in-a-bottle\" target=\"_blank\">Nicholas Sparks novel</a></strong>.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy due to inclement weather.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs a friend later pointed out, if he\'s a Brit with a Colgate smile, he\'s probably an actor.  :-D\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-142','','','2012-03-22 13:15:00','2012-03-22 20:15:00','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/22/10029-revision-142/',0,'revision','',0),(10191,1,'2012-03-22 23:42:12','2012-03-23 06:42:12','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a <strong><a href=\"http://www.nicholassparks.com/books/message-in-a-bottle\" target=\"_blank\">Nicholas Sparks novel</a></strong>.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy due to inclement weather.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-144','','','2012-03-22 23:42:12','2012-03-23 06:42:12','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/22/10029-revision-144/',0,'revision','',0),(10192,1,'2012-03-22 23:42:37','2012-03-23 06:42:37','<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft  wp-image-10180\" title=\"homeLogo\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/homeLogo.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"355\" height=\"202\" /></a>If you have an <em>ounce</em> of hopeful romanticism in your DNA, then please pass this on via facebook, twitter, email, pinterest or whatever social media outlet floats your boat.  Because it\'s Spring!  And love is in the air!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThink of this as a virtual message in a cyber-bottle.  The old-fashioned message in a bottle seems ridiculously impossible, but people have tried it for centuries.  <a href=\"http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/36541\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>It\'s even worked!</strong>  </a>(And I\'m not referring to a <strong><a href=\"http://www.nicholassparks.com/books/message-in-a-bottle\" target=\"_blank\">Nicholas Sparks novel</a></strong>.  Although....<em>sigh.</em>...Does that man know the heart of a woman or what?!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Since it\'s Spring, and since love is in the air, my virtual message is aimed towards a Handsome Stranger whom I briefly met on a flight from London to Geneva.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe didn\'t exchange names or personal contact info, just a few words and many glances.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWho knows if he\'s Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Unavailable?  What I do know is that he\'s Mr. Intriguing, and I am not a hope<em>less</em> romantic but a hope<em>ful</em> romantic which means . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI believe anything is possible.  With a little help from my friends.  (Cue Ringo.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And kooky, hair-brained quests with your friends on the Interwebs are fun and often life-changing.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nRemember <strong><a href=\"http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/\" target=\"_blank\">Mr. Red Paperclip Guy</a></strong>?  If he could harness the power of Internet peeps to barter his way from a paperclip to a house, then why can\'t I ask you lovely ladies and 3 token gents to help me find a gorgeous bloke in the UK?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWill you please ripple the cyber-waters and move my virtual message in a bottle along?  I\'ve made it easy for you:  See the facebook, twitter, pinterest and email icons at the bottom of this post?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPsst!  Please pass this on!  Let\'s see if this message finds its way to Mr. Gorgeous Bloke.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Oh!  How could I forget?  You\'re probably wondering, \"What does he look like???\"</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"color: #000000; font-size: medium;\">Answer:  Tall, dark and handsome.</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>Seriously, 6 foot 2-ish, full head of dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.  (See?  I wasn\'t exaggerating.)  Age?  I would guess early 40s.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn the day of January 28th, 2012 at London Heathrow Airport, he was wearing a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater, jeans, and Sorels.  (For my fellow desert dwellers who don\'t know what Sorels are, think fashionable snow boots worn by a man who knows how to dress.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere\'s what I posted the other night on<strong><a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"> WeMetOnaPlane.com</a> </strong>-- a website dedicated to reuniting star-crossed passengers:\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://wemetonaplane.com/?s=london+geneva&amp;submit=\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-10181\" title=\"Screen shot 2012-03-19 at 7.41.44 PM\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Screen-shot-2012-03-19-at-7.41.44-PM-1024x402.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"717\" height=\"281\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou can also click the image above to take you directly to the site where you can fb, tweet, and comment your little hearts out!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>If you\'d like to know the<em> rest</em> of the story -- i.e, the juicy bits -- keep reading.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTHANK YOU for humouring me!  May Spring fill your world with love and excitement!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt all started back in January.  I was flying into Geneva, Switzerland from Phoenix, Arizona with a tight 60 minute layover at London Heathrow.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAlways up for a challenge, I booked this too-good-to-be-true flight with fingers crossed.  If I could cut my travel time by 4-6 hours, then bring it!  Worse case scenario:  Blimey!  I miss my connection, drink pots of PG Tips to stay awake after my red-eye, and shop at Harrod\'s.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to January 28, 2012.  British Airways was a tad tardy due to inclement weather.  Updated layover time:  50 minutes.  At one of the busiest airports in the world.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>I am not a runner.  I am <em>fit</em>, but a runner I am not.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Except on January 28, 2012 when I ran like an Olympic sprinter through Heathrow.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFantasies of PG Tips and Harrod\'s might sound appealing when you are well-rested, but when you\'ve barely squeaked in 4 hours of Zzzzz\'s on a 10.5 hour flight (and I was lucky to get that in coach), all you can think about is a comfortable mattress.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThanks to the kindness of French and German strangers who graciously allowed me to cut in front of them at security, I made it to my gate with only minutes to spare.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNeedless to say, I was a hot, harried mess.  Not hot as in \"I looked good\" (unfortunately), but hot as in \"I was sweating from Olympian feats performed during a severely sleep-deprived state\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Somehow, I caught Mr. Gorgeous Bloke\'s eye.  </strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPerhaps he was sleep-deprived as well?  Although he appeared to be a local, and this was already mid-day.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr perhaps it was because I was breathing heavy?  (From running, but maybe he didn\'t know that.)  Those American women are such tarts!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my disheveled self together and waited to board.  I tried not to notice that Mr. Gorgeous Bloke kept looking my way.  After all, <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/01/27/photo-du-jour-begins-on-sunday/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>I was in transit to see my Romeo.</strong> </a> I don\'t flirt with other men when I\'m with someone.  I\'m not <em>that girl</em>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, the smoke would clear, the mirrors would crack, and Shakespeare would roll in his grave.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLittle did I know that a mere 48 hours later, my heart would be sliced to bits.  Because broken mirrors wield sharp edges.  <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/02/17/playdate-5-a-week-in-the-french-alps/\" target=\"_blank\">Sniff, sniff.</a></strong>  (Cue hauntingly heartbreaking violin music.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Bloody, <em>bloody</em> hell!  I should have snogged Mr. Gorgeous Bloke while I had the chance.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><a href=\"http://www.heathrowairport.com/about-us/media-centre/press-releases/love-is-in-the-air-at-heathrow\" target=\"_blank\">This kind of thing happens every 49 seconds at London Heathrow.</a></strong>  Haven\'t you seen <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/\" target=\"_blank\">Love Actually</a></em></strong>?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs fate would have it, Mr. Gorgeous Bloke boarded the plane directly in front of me.  You know how long that takes.  10 minutes of looky-looing later (I tried not to notice -- Really I did!)  it was time to hoist my luggage into the overhead bin.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke chivalrously offered to lift my flowery purple carry on for me.  He stood there and smiled.  If I remember correctly, he donned a Colgate smile which . . . . Always.  Does.  Me.  In.\r\n\r\nBut honestly, I was delirious from lack of sleep, so I\'m not completely sure about his chompers.  Good teeth or not-so-good teeth, it doesn\'t matter.  He was hot.  Hot as in \"he looked really good\", not as in \"sweaty mess\" although I\'m sure he . . . . never mind.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFocus, Michelle.  Focus!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>He stood there and smiled.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think he expected for me to sit next to him.  I awkwardly mentioned that my seat was two rows behind.  His expression wilted.  I noticed.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFast forward to baggage claim at Geneva Airport . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI collected my luggage and stepped out into the greeting area.  I gazed into a sea of Europeans whilst trying to spot my Romeo.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Me:</strong>  </span><em>(inner monologue)  </em>Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo:</strong></span> <em> (shouting out loud)  </em>What, are you blind?!</span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">(Cue eerie music of foreshadowing.)</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Ex Formerly Known as Romeo then laughed as he approached me.  Because an insulting greeting for the woman who just crossed the ocean to be with you is hysterically funny.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNot.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMr. Gorgeous Bloke passed by just as The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo snogged me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBloody hell.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut no need to feel sorry for me, my friends.  I\'m the kind of woman who turns lemons into lemon chiffon cake!  I recently signed up for April\'s <a href=\"http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Script Frenzy</strong> </a>where I will turn my Fairytale Gone Bad story into a screenplay in 30 days flat.  Think <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328589/\" target=\"_blank\">Under the Tuscan Sun</a></em></strong> meets <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/\" target=\"_blank\">Something\'s Gotta Give</a></em>.</strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong><span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\">Let The Ex Formerly Known as Romeo eat lemon chiffon cake!</span></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you already know what the sequel is about, right?  Do I need to completely make up the Hollywood Happy Ending, or can you help me to base it on True Events?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>Psst!  Please pass this on!</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThank you!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"color: #008000; font-size: medium;\"><strong>P.S.  If you happen to be Mr. Gorgeous Bloke, why hello there, handsome stranger.  <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/talk-to-me/\" target=\"_blank\">Would you care to chat this time around? </a></strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.S.  My name is Michelle.  What\'s yours?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nP.P.P.S.  If you are brave enough to write, then I promise not to blog about you.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n**********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo you know of any real life message in a bottle stories (virtual or old-fashioned)?  Have you ever Met On A Plane, went your separate ways, and later wondered \"What if\"?  Please share your stories  in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Psst.  Pass it on.  Because Love is in the Air!','','inherit','open','open','','10029-revision-145','','','2012-03-22 23:42:37','2012-03-23 06:42:37','',10029,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/03/22/10029-revision-145/',0,'revision','',0),(10338,1,'2012-04-11 01:11:13','2012-04-11 08:11:13','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.flickr.com/photos/shardsofblue/7066410885/\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-10366\" title=\"7066410885_f0f9e5ee5d\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/7066410885_f0f9e5ee5d-300x224.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"224\" /></a>Do we honestly need any more social media time vacuums?  DO WE???\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>My First Pinterest \"Invitation\" from Valori:</strong>  July 2nd, 2011.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>My Second Pinterest \"Invitation\" from Yovani:</strong>  December 6th, 2011.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Day I Joined Pinterest:</strong>  March 20th, 2012.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>First Pin:</strong>  April 7th, 2012.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>And that\'s when all hell broke loose.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOn Saturday morning, I came across a John Lennon quote.  Me Lifetime Beatles Fan.  Me Love Beatles Wisdom.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI did what came naturally.  I posted on facebook.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd then I remembered, \"Oh, yeah!  I created a Pinterest account a few weeks back.  Maybe I could actually <em>pin</em> something.  Because I need another social media time vacuum like I need this blasted sinus infection that is about to make my head explode.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHumbug.  The Pinterest Scrooge had spoken.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI pinned John.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<div style=\"padding-bottom: 2px; line-height: 0px;\"><a href=\"http://pinterest.com/pin/109493834660614126/\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https://a248.e.akamai.net/media.pinterest.com.s3.amazonaws.com/upload/109493834660614126_VUTB8klm_c.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"600\" height=\"515\" border=\"0\" /></a></div>\r\n<div style=\"float: left; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;\">\r\n<p style=\"font-size: 10px; color: #76838b;\">Source: <a style=\"text-decoration: underline; font-size: 10px; color: #76838b;\" href=\"http://theclothspring.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/john-lennon-quote-happy.jpg/\">theclothspring.com</a> via <a style=\"text-decoration: underline; font-size: 10px; color: #76838b;\" href=\"http://pinterest.com/latebloomer365/\" target=\"_blank\">Michelle</a> on <a style=\"text-decoration: underline; color: #76838b;\" href=\"http://pinterest.com\" target=\"_blank\">Pinterest</a></p>\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Pinterest floodgates opened.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWithin what seemed like a nanosecond, 15-20 people \"repinned\" me, and 5 more \"liked\" me.  They really liked me.  (Note to self:  See if Sally Field Pins.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #008000;\"><strong>In another nanosecond, I was overcome with self-imposed Pinterest Peer Pressure.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>What will people think if I\'ve only posted one pin?  How lame is that?  My blog address is up there on my profile!  I need to represent!  Everyone else is doing it!  </em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDo I havta?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Yes!  You havta!  Be social!</em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut I\'m social in Real Life!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>That doesn\'t count.  This is 2012.  Look how long you fought facebook, and now it\'s like brushing your teeth, but more entertaining.  As with anything, you will adapt.</em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDoes this mean I have to sign up for Google+ as well?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Hell, no!  <a href=\"http://createasfolk.com/how-to-manage-your-time-with-social-media-marketing/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Laura Simms</strong></a> already told you that you don\'t havta.</em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWell . . . . your offers sounds tempting, but I can\'t this weekend.  I have <strong><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/04/05/playdate-13-script-frenzy/\" target=\"_blank\">24 days left to finish my screenplay,</a></strong> and I need to figure out a playdate that will be kind and gentle to my sinuses.  Woe is me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>That\'s easy.  Play with yourself.</em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYo!  The Parental Unit reads this blog!  Watch it!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Yo!  Get your mind out of the gutter!  I meant that Pinterest is a low-key playdate with yourself.  Sheesh!</em>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOh.  Sorry.  I watched <em>Eat Pray Love</em> with Javier Bardem last night, and I\'m a bit . . . . distracted.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*****\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd this is how I came to I create My Online Vision Board via the site we know and love and hate as Pinterest.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSince many people refer to Pinterest as an Online Vision Board, and since <a href=\"http://christinekane.com/how-to-make-a-vision-board/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Vision Boards</strong> </a>are said to manifest into Real Life,  AND since I was \"distracted\", I slapped Javier up there faster than you can say, <strong><a href=\"http://www.sodahead.com/fun/better-actor-javier-bardem-or-jeremy-renner/question-2482187/comment-78538551/\" target=\"_blank\">\"It\'s time, darling.\"</a></strong>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLadies, do you know the scene  of which I speak?  Be still, my heart.  (Be still, my groins!)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><span style=\"color: #008000;\"><strong>Javier, if you or your clone</strong></span> </span>(Listen, I\'m the last person in the world that wants to break up you and Penelope)<span style=\"font-size: medium;\"> <span style=\"color: #008000;\"><strong>entered into my Real Life via my Online Vision Board, it would <em>always</em> be time, darling.</strong></span></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDon\'t expect much from my <a href=\"https://pinterest.com/latebloomer365/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Pinterest page,</strong></a> my friends.  My boards and pins are growing slowly.  Although I promise that you won\'t be disappointed <a href=\"https://pinterest.com/latebloomer365/el-caramelo-de-ojo/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>here.</strong> </a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nCan I let you in on my latest dirty little secret?  Pinterest is the best peer pressure to which I have ever succumbed.  Shhhhh.....\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNow . . . . Back to that screenplay!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*****\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAre you a Pinterest Aficionado?  Do tell!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #14:  Pinterest Peer Pressure','','publish','open','open','','playdate-14-pinterest-peer-pressure','','http://createasfolk.com/how-to-manage-your-time-with-social-media-marketing/\nhttp://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/04/05/playdate-13-script-frenzy/\nhttp://christinekane.com/how-to-make-a-vision-board/','2012-04-11 09:55:50','2012-04-11 16:55:50','',0,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?p=10338',0,'post','',8),(10196,1,'2012-03-28 16:44:22','2012-03-28 23:44:22','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-718','','','2012-03-28 16:44:22','2012-03-28 23:44:22','',10193,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170002.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(10197,1,'2012-03-28 16:52:59','2012-03-28 23:52:59','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-719','','','2012-03-28 16:52:59','2012-03-28 23:52:59','',10193,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170007.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(10198,1,'2012-03-28 16:54:14','2012-03-28 23:54:14','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-720','','','2012-03-28 16:54:14','2012-03-28 23:54:14','',10193,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/P3170008.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),