Boyfriend #1: ugly breakup. Sign of big issues never dealt with. Boyfriend #2: breakup "out of nowhere." In retrospect, lots of red flags. Boyfriend #3: Binge drinker. Most recent boyfriend: Showers with attention, which "felt overwhelming at first." BIG red flag.

You have pretty much replicated my own dating history. I, too, followed all the "rules." I too tried to buy into the "it'll come when you least expect it" line, as well as the "you have to be happy alone before you can be happy with someone else" line. (The last one, in particular, is bullshit; it is not unhealthy to yearn for a deep human connection.) And I too kept missing a lot of red flags.

I met my husband through a dating service. I signed up for the service when I became convinced that my judgment in men was just broken and not going to get fixed anytime soon. (I'd cite the evidence for this conclusion, but it would take too long.) This was an old-fashioned pre-Internet dating service, though, and it required people to come up with some paperwork, as in: what qualities am I looking for in a mate? What's non-negotiable? What do I have to offer? It was a pretty straightforward exercise, kind of like preparing for a job interview. When I first met my husband, I was sure he was not for me; he was like nobody I'd ever dated before. I went out with him because I figured, what the hell. We've been married for 14 years, have two amazing daughters, and are still in love.

So, two suggestions. One: get practical, and make those lists. Two: get a disinterested third party--a yenta, a trusted friend, whoever--to help you out. By all means, work on figuring out your blind spot(s). But while you're doing that, go back out there with a new attitude and a practical, yet open, mind. You may be surprised at what happens.

Do you want children? That matters in a situation like this. Here are two possible scenarios. One: you marry this guy, you have kids on down the road, he is happy to be staying at home with the kids, or working part time, while they are very young while you are the main breadwinner, and both of you are happy with this reversal of traditional roles. (Note: the federal government is pretty good about flex time and telecommuting.) Two: you marry, have kids, and then you want to be the one doing hands-on child care for a year or so...at which point you meet up with the very real fact that the private sector still penalizes women pretty severely for taking time off for child-rearing. (See Ann Crittenden's "The Price of Motherhood.") Your finances take a major hit while you wonder why in the world you ever married such a non-starter.

Just something else to ponder.

Voodoo doll.

I'm a mom, and I'm also someone who was force-fed Fundamentalist beliefs as a child, and was scarred by the experience, so to me a week-long Bible camp of this sort would rank below having a lower bowel re-section without anesthesia. But if your kids want to go, let them. Talk to them first; tell them they might encounter some really rigid beliefs that you discarded yourself long ago; warn them against anyone who tries to make them feel like shit about being who they are. And then let them go. I'd say the same if it were Buddhist camp, or vegetarian camp, or fly-fishing camp. Assuming it's not a cult, let them go. By doing so, you will demonstrate to them the tolerance they may find missing in the people they run into there. Besides, family is important, and camp is fun, and even a lot of Fundamentalists are nice people.

I'm serious. My "soulless suburban street" --a Levittown, no less--began to be a neighborhood about five years ago when a late winter snowstorm left me at home with a cranky three-year-old and no idea of how to keep her happy all day. On an impulse, I called the lady down the street, who had two little boys and was in basically the same boat. A playdate became dinner which became a potluck for the whole street. Everybody came; one neighbor brought the entire contents of his liquor cabinet and we disposed of most of it. My husband, who was out of town,was jealous he wasn't here for the weather disaster. The kids were happy, the adults were happy, and the whole thing totally changed the character of our street.

Yeah, we were lucky in that none of us were psychotic or religious fanatics or just nasty people--that's a chance you gotta take--but the point it: those soulless suburbs are populated by PEOPLE. They are called NEIGHBORS. Put yourself out there; get to know them. It's possible you may be living in an actual neighborhood.

We have gone in my lifetime from not allowing HUSBANDS in the delivery room to posting graphic videos of the event for the whole darn world to see. Come on down! There are interesting questions of narcissism and changing notions of privacy to delve into here, but for now I will say this: you have to be 18 even to watch it on You Tube.