DART: It's what the doctor ordered

Smart people get a wedding planner. This is someone who makes the big event go off without a hitch and lets the bride have her day. It's a beautiful concept.

Little did I know, however, that there are also divorce planners. So it would seem, anyway, if Dr. M's organizational suggestions are to be taken with anything other than a grain of salt.

The other day, she divided up the responsibilities for getting your dear UCM over the post-divorce blues and on into a new realm. I was vacillating over whether I had the motivation/energy to organize a loft-warming party to bring some levity into my new space (especially as I seem to be in need of ice cube trays, spatulas and wooden spoons -- not to mention excessive amounts of wine).

Dr. M first made the "therapeutic" comment that I must allow myself to grieve and to expect it to just sneak the hell up on me at times and bite me in the ass. And then, she divided the chores of getting me past all of it this way:

"Expect that some of your friends will be awkward, some of us will just try to get you drunk (me), some of us will try to get you laid (Bubba), and some of us will just be perfect and listen and say all the right things (S2 and The Debutante)."

This is the composition of my Divorce Action Response Team (DART).

S2 already knows her role and is doing a swell job. For example, when I told her I had stumbled across some love letters written to me by the X-XGF, a woman I lived with back in California (and had said, Oh yeah, there was someone before this last gal; I guess that means there will be someone again in the future), S2 replied with this gem:

"There are and will be other people for you. You *just* have to live through your divorce...In many of my friends, this process has taken about a year (although they have been fighting legally, which creates a horrible nastiness). My point is, it takes a while and I am so glad you have had this sweet reminder of just how lovable you are and how wanted you were by another woman. UCM, the next lady who gets to have you will be lucky indeed. You have so much to offer - humor, ideas, perspective, love, acceptance, kindness, sweetness, intimacy, inner and outer beauty... She will be blessed."

Let's say it in unison, people: Awwww. That's so sweet!

Really, S2. That's one of the nicest things anyone's said to me.

But Bubba. Dear Bubba... When she found out the other night that Dr. M had assigned her the DART task of getting me "laid," Bubba replied, with the most astounding hopelessness in her voice, "Dr. M! How am I supposed to do *that*?! She doesn't go to the bars!"

Dr. M smirked. "Then I guess you've got your work cut out for you."

Bubba kvetched some more about how your dear UCM isn't the kind of gal who will just sleep with *anyone,* and as how that would pose some problems. ... Oh, the humanity!

Dr. M told her to employ whatever means necessary.

Now, mind you, I *was* at the table listening to this. And fortunately, I had a margarita in my hand (because Dr. M was playing *her* DART role perfectly), so something was softening what otherwise could have been a rather depressing commentary on the sex-worthiness of your fair scribe. But I was not short for a retort, and I told Bubba, Well, if worse comes to worst, you could always take care of it yourself.

I mean: C'mon, Bubba! It cannot be *that* hopeless of a task! Can it?

Turns out she might have some help, anyway. Seems The Clairvoyant, who is not part of this circle of friends (though, damn, would I like to see her get into a debate with Dr. M about anything woo-woo...) ... The Clairvoyant apparently is gunning to get someone in the sack with me.

Every so often, she calls and invites me to dinner like this: "What are you doing on Friday night? Want to come out with me and The One for (name that cuisine)?"

Sure, I say.

"Great," TC says. "I've got this other friend who's going to join us. She's a really nice gal. I think you'd like her...."

She did this to me the other day, so tonight, I will be heading out for Vietnamese food and a little lesbionic looky-looky. The last time TC did this, the woman she brought appeared so young that I thought, Are you trying to set me up for a undercover sting with a child prostitute?

But I am assured that tonight's dinner guest is an adult. And someone who's in a line of work related to the field I'm going into. So if she's not cute, at least she's got networking potential.

Anyway, I ran into The Deb when out walking my pup this morning. She is overtaxed with an outrageous school schedule, but I informed her of her role on the DART. She chuckled, and said, "DART! I like that idea."

At least she didn't sound hopeless. And I thanked her for that. Then we talked about schizophrenics with drug and alcohol problems, and I felt ever so much better about myself.