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I could see (in my narrow-minded, smitten way) was David driving an olive green outback-type jeep, navigating through the tall grasses of the Australian bush country. Exactly what he was pursuing didn’t matter, although I hoped it wasn’t some defenseless koala that had strayed from its litter. In the long run, it would have been better if he had pursued a koala, compared to what he ended up pursuing.
    Included in my ad were my favorite things (koalas, spicy tuna rolls, sunflowers, a fresh box of crayons, log cabins, and beach sunsets). In response to the ad, he hastened to include that his favorites were somewhat similar to mine. He too liked koalas and beach sunsets, since Perth is surrounded by water. However, spicy tuna rolls and crayons elicited question marks. It was only later that I regretfully had the opportunity to qualify my penchants.
    Trying desperately to impress me (and he damn near did impress me), David proceeded to mail a box to me at the address I gave him. Feeling wary about divulging my home address after my experience in Kent, I gave him my brother Peter’s address instead. A few days later, Peter called me to inform me that David had sent me a package via first class mail. I asked Peter to open the box. Since he didn’t know what the box contained, he sounded rather tentative. In fact, he gave me hell for arranging that a package be sent to his address. Being used to digesting tablespoons of hell, I swallowed this one because my brother was right that I should have forewarned him. Regardless of his cynicism, I convinced him to open the package. As he proceeded to cut through the packing tape, he shouted, “You’re crazy. What if there is a bomb or some other device in here?” A few minutes later he told me that David had sent me a stuffed koala bear, a can of tuna fish, a box of jumbo crayons, a tiny Lincoln log cabin (which he carefully glued together for shipping purposes), sunflower seeds, and a postcard of a typical Australian sunset. I thought this was so sweet. Later that day, I picked up the items at Peter’s house. At the bottom of the box, I found a heartfelt letter and photos of David’s children and home. I actually had no idea that he had children, since he had never mentioned them before.
    After much contemplation I decided that didn’t matter, and I would not prejudge a man because he had children. I also decided that I wouldn’t let miles, differences of race, religion, or nationality stand in the way of meeting my soul mate. Shortly thereafter, I called him to thank him for the package, and at that moment, he asked me how daring I was. You should never ask me that, because I take on most challenges. He asked if I would be up for traveling if he sent me a first-class ticket from New York City to Perth, Australia. I told him the England story and explained to him that I would never again go to anyone’s home. He then offered me an alternative plan, suggesting we both fly to a halfway point—Hawaii, for example. I told him I would arrange for accommodations in separate hotels, so if things didn’t work the way I planned, I would have a safe haven to which I could retreat. I thought this was a reasonable plan. He stipulated that if I didn’t like him, then I could be on my merry way and have a free flight to Oahu. I replied, “It’s a deal!”
    Because it was winter break, school was out. Flying to Los Angeles, and then catching a connecting flight to Oahu, all the while enjoying first class, I came to the sudden realization that this could be fun. No sooner did I allow myself latitude and premature levity than that old bugaboo of mine raised its ugly head again; it was that sense of dread and trepidation! Although the fine meals served on the flight distracted me, I wasn’t going to allow my vision to be clouded.
    Overhearing a snobby couple bickering behind me, I pretended to peruse the menu. Dressed from head to toe in ill-fitting Gucci garb, these two cartoon characters