The conversation flows, the mutual interests are established, the overlaps are incredible. Is there nothing we don't share, you wonder?

Multiple "I do's" might be one.

Unless this particular person is a practicing polygamist, I've never quite understood the concept of marrying more than, oh let's just say, a couple of times. Three times or more…not so much.

Perhaps, its been suggested, removing "I do" from one's vocabulary and substituting "maybe", "I'll think about it," or "ask me next year" might work. But, for matters of the heart, and additionally the pockets of divorce lawyers, it appears that I do, I do, I do…forever and ever and ever, until it isn't, works for some.

So it is with some perverse glee that I find myself combing the NY Times Sunday Style section to read about those that are in the throes of forever and ever. The need for the inclusion of the bride's previous 3 marriages, the groom's previous 2 marriages, all ending in divorce seems a tab bit of too much information and a portent of not so much happily ever after, don't you think?  I can picture a cadre of divorce lawyers combing these pages too, making a list, sending a letter of introduction, maybe. 

Included, recently, was the announcement of a marriage of a young couple who, it seems to me, might be working in consort with the legal community. This particularly enterprising new bride has a business, you see, called "I do now I don't". 

Not sure what to get the thrice married? A link to this site might be the perfect gift. 

Had Shania been singing “Happy Trails To You” this image might have worked for me.

Apparently, according to the NY Times, she was warbling “You’re Still The One.”

Maybe she’s onto something.

That is, if she and Trigger have been an item for the past 20 years, or are in the throes of lust two years into their union.

According to the Times article New Love: A short shelf life  researchers have determined that “wedded bliss has a limited shelf life.”

For those of you are past the 15-20 year married mark read on and revel in the validation. For the rest of you, read the article and nod in recognition of why the love had gone south.

It seems, or so say the researchers, that familiarity breeds contempt. Surprise, conversely, keeps the ardor alive. That is, I suspect, as long as the surprise doesn’t take the form of “well, love, I’m leaving you for another.”

Or in the case of Shania, hopefully while nuzzling her new husband, she makes sweet murmuring cooing noises, rather than neighs.

He said he'd call, he called. He said he'd pick you up at 7, promptly at 7 the doorbell rang. He said you didn't look fat in those jeans. You believed him. That one doesn't count, gullible and predictable are not interchangeable. 

Had he not called, picked you up at 8 and really thought long and hard before commenting on your ass, while you waited with baited breathe, you'd apparently be more inclined to be attracted to him.

Really?

Really.

At least according to the latest research. Unpredictable behavior is more alluring. The brain, it appears, is wired to react more favorably to stimuli that wasn't predictable. 

We all know someone who has lamented to anyone in earshot that they are in love with a cad. The outcome of this lament will be, no doubt, a "but I love the guy."

Now if her friends understand it is a physiologically prompted need perhaps they will be more forgiving.

Unlikely.

The conventional wisdom is that we'd all be institutionalized if only unpredictable behavior guided our choices. "Our conscious knowledge", says the author of the article, "overrides our unhealthy or undesirable impulses all the time." It continues with "we are expected to be in charge of our brains."

These researches apparently haven't met Brittney Spears, the Kardashians, or Rihanna, nor any life long members of overeaters anonymous. 

Is there a correlation to your BMI (for those who skipped that chapter, it's your body mass index) and your dating life?

Frankly, I think that any sentence with the word 'mass' in it, except for religious purposes, is probably setting you up for disappointment. Nonetheless, once those numbers have been calculated you fall, like Goldilocks, into the category of–too small, too large or just right. 

If  'just right' ain't happening you've a few choices.You can vigorously fight that bulge battle, determined to torture yourself into a one digit size, alternatively, you might be quite contented with your girth and figure that the 'more to love' adage works.

That is, if you can find the one who subscribes to that 'more to love' philosophy.

So then, where to find the one?

According to a new study in the Journal PLoS One they found that men under stress prefer heavier women.

What I didn't get from the study was how come? I suspect I can conjure up a few guesses, mostly having to do with comfort food therapy or pendulous breast nestling fantasies.

If that works for you and your are determined to find the one, not reduce your girth, and are actively seeking that mate, here's a suggestion.

Hang around your local CVS. If you see someone putting in a prescription for Xanax, immediately introduce yourself as an alternative. 

Have him buy you a candy bar, or two, on the way out insuring a wonderful future together.

.

A misspelling of the abbreviation for a Latvian? That incredibly humongous muscle located somewhere in your back? Lumberman's Association of Texas?

Give up?

It's the acronym Living Apart Together. Apparently, it describes how two people can be committed to one another forever and ever, and then some. They just don't share the same address.

Perfect.

Woody and Mia did that, didn't they? Oh, yeah, right. That didn't end well.

How's about Tim Burton and Helene Bonham Carter? That's going well.

Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, though rumor has it that he had a varying degree of dalliances during this arrangement. This, of course, works very handily with his theories on free will.

So for those of you in the 'sickness and health, till death do us part' throes, adding in 'with differing postal zones' can happily create a union that works best for you.

You'll just have to take out your own garbage.

"So," he wrote to her in his first 'on line find your soulmate forever and ever' correspondence, "you stated you like to travel. What's been your favorite place, thus far"?

"Oh, that's easy," she responded, "without a doubt, following the Spice trail."

Never heard back from him.

Did he picture her wandering aimlessly around her local supermarket aisle, seeking the latest in McCormick's chicken rub? 

"I wonder" she asked me "what was the answer he was looking for? "Mud wrestling in Idaho? "Monster Truck drag racing down South?" "Spelunking in Hal caverns?"  "What can I do?" she implored.

Clearly nothing. 

"I suppose" I offered up to her, "you could request from this on line hopeful that he supply you with some acceptable answers. Perhaps he could put it into a true false format? Fill-ins, might work."

"Great idea" she responded, naively. And, so she did. Critically rereading his profile for context clues, she carefully devised an answer with all the options that might appeal to him. Sent it off, eager and hopeful.

Right.

Undaunted, she moved forward. 

The introduction is made. The pleasantries are exchanged. Questions are asked. "You're well?" "Your kids are good?" "Work satisfying?"

 "And now, bear with me, just a few itty bitty questions to find out if you might be a psychopath."

Really.

For those of you who feel vaguely insecure about how well you might read people, there's actually a checklist. Developed by a psychologist named Robert Hare and discussed in a book by the journalist Jon Ronson.

So. I took a test. Note, a test rather than the test. I found that there are a number of these tests on line. OKCupid, for example, an online dating site, had a version.

Is there some irony that an online dating site would have a myriad of personality tests to evaluate your mental health and the mental health of others?

Nah, probably not. 

If you think that you shouldn't take the test, for fear of how high you'll score, one psychologist told Ronson, "don't worry, you're not a psychopath". "Callous/lack of empathy" is one of the traits. If you really care if you are, or so he suggests, you're not.

Probably just a good old fashioned, garden variety neurotic.

Are you wondering who..??

Why all the wronged women. That's who. Erin, Elizabeth, Silda, Sandra, to name a few. 

But there is an antidote to avoid being a member of that less than illustrious list. 

Here's the plan if you who are contemplating taking that big step down the aisle. First, you have to insist that you get married in Mississippi or D.C. Why? Because those are the only two states in the union that require blood tests in order to get a marriage license.

Now let's think about that for a minute. 

D.C., as we know, seems to produce an extraordinary amount of philanderers. Get elected, get it on (with someone other than you wife). I can speculate why Mississippi might still have requirements for blood tests. I am choosing to be PC, so you can fill in your own reasons. But if the theme song from Deliverance (Dueling Banjos) comes to mind, we are on the same wavelength.

Anyway, it appears that men carry a gene related to the body's regulation of the brain chemical vasopressin, a, get this, bonding hormone. We aren't talking crazy glue here. We are talking about fidelity. Or some variation on that theme. 

Immediately backing off from this point of view, scientists suggested that it is not loyalty that keeps couples together, but how much your partner enhances your life and broadens your horizons. 

Really? Hillary, are you reading this? 

And yet again, I ask you. Who funds these studies?

Know who they are?

Sure you do.

The other woman.  

The "I will write a book, tell all, capitalize on my relationship with (Charles, Norman, John, Bill, and Henry. Like in the 8th, that Henry) which I throughly enjoyed while it was happening, and I really really loved him" other woman. 

Except, that is, for Camilla, who actually got her Prince and to the best of my knowledge did not, yet, write a memior about skulking around the palace for a quickie behind the throne. The Other Boleyn girl got the book and movie, much to the chagrin of Anne.

And books, clearly, are the way to go.

Carole Mallory has written "Loving Mailer" a tell all of her 8 year affair with old Norm. The counterpoint of a view of life with him is from Norris Church (wife number 6) entitled "Ticket To The Circus."  No wonder with all his cavorting his writing seemed stalled.

So for all the would be "honey's on the side" it's pretty clear that in addition to the purported pleasure of a romp or two, (or lots more) taking notes is a pretty good follow up to the act. 

If the relationship sours the upside is a book deal. Could be worse, I suppose, she could actually wind up the philanderer. And why, pray tell, would she want that?

Don't you delight in the smiles and giggles evoked from a simple game of peek a boo?

For those of you in the bah humbug crowd, don't cavort with anyone under two feet, or come from the seen but not heard school of parenting, here's how it's played.  "I see you" you say, and make your face visible. Hide your face again, a few seconds later repeat "I see you." 

Repeat until you think you might be losing whatever mind you may still have, can't bear it another moment and notice that your audience has drifted off for a bit of a snooze.

Just like on line dating.

Surprise, I looked at you! As I will again later today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. 

Smiles of recognition? Oh, I know you. You're there. You're not. You're there. 

I've considered dropping a note. "Perhaps a game of tag?" I could suggest.  

Nah. 

I look at it as a memory and visual recognition fine tuning exercise. Precisely what the game of peek a boo is intended to do. That works for me.