In keeping with the original concept of this column, I was supposed to give readers an uncensored glimpse -- by family newspaper standards -- into a woman on her walkabout. That soul-searching in stilettos has tried to answer some of life's most cryptic questions.

I have tripped up over some of these conundrums more often than the cobblestones downtown. They can be more puzzling than the length of time the TomKat marriage has made it thus far. For example, why being buxom, blonde and brainless in our culture gets you an icon status. Or why the phenomenon of having a starter husband has suddenly become trendy. Or why people think that vanity plates are hip.

Let's call a spade a spade. Saying that you are a desperate divorcee is far less sexy than asserting you were once a starter wife. As for the triple threat, men feel threatened by the other three Bs -- buxom, bright and brunette. Vanity plates -- they're like the continuation of the war in Iraq, inexplicable.

One mating mystery that recently crossed my path is whether the blind date has seen its day. Is there such a thing as "blind" if you can Google the person before your rendezvous and see an actual picture of him from his company outing on any image-hosting site? I think Ray Charles, God rest his singing soul, would agree that does not fall into the definition of blind.
What is worse than seeing an enlarged pic of your evening cocktail companion donning Bermuda shorts and socks with sandals?

I'll tell you: when he pops up in the local rag's arrest log, or worse, on dontdatehimgirl.com. They say knowledge is power, but what if this knowledge is acquired from a spiteful woman who was just dumped? Maybe she was the problem, one of those everything-has-to-be-taupe types. You know exactly the type I am talking about here.

Sometimes, an Internet search can be a girl's first line of protection. My girlfriend met a guy, who gave her this big long schmooze fest about how he was redeveloping an abandoned mill building into high-end retail and live-in space. Instead of Cupid, she saw dollar signs floating all around his head. After plugging his name into the flashing cursor, she discovered he was a deadbeat dad from New Hampshire.

But then there are the guys you like. Same gal met another man who she thought was Brad Pitt to her Angelina Jolie. She resisted Googling on this one, thinking he might be a sex offender or worse. She gave into her temptation and entered his name anyway. To her delight, there was no results except some high school sport scores.

She decided to tell the fool on their second date that she Googled him and he came up clean. His dumb response: "Really? I was sure one of my arrests would be on there."

I don't know who was more astonished -- him or her.

Some truths are better never to be known.

E-mail your dating dilemmas to lowellita@lowellsun.com.