long distance.

If you've ever dappled in cyber-dating, I don't need to tell you that online romance can be tricky at the best of times. Online relationships of the long-distance variety? Well, they're doomed from word go. Or "hello", or whatever other greeting you choose. I know, because I've been there – thankfully I emerged relatively unscathed, but the experience was traumatic, nonetheless.

It all began after I had sworn off the whole online "meet market" following a few annoying developments as a result of the techno-dating sphere – to be fair, those had more to do with the dysfunctional men I happened to meet rather than the dating sites themselves, but (by association) I still was still mildly repulsed by the prospect of meeting another guy online.

But obviously not so repulsed that I didn't reactivate my membership on - not one but three dating websites. Ulgh – I was going through a dry spell and not encountering any worthy candidates of the flesh and blood variety – what can I say?

Anyway, with my job offering me the potential to work from virtually anywhere I could acquire a decent high-speed internet connection and phone coverage – and the local market looking depressingly scarce – I decided to cast a broader net, deliberately scoping out profiles of men internationally, namely the United Kingdom and United States – my two rather extensive pools for potential residency and romance. Maybe there was something decidedly unwise and moderately idiotic about my newfound strategy, but having just attended a seminar about "Making Your Future What You Want It To Be", I was psyched and excited. It was just the rush I needed to distract me from my unmarked date-book.

I used my standard profile – which I believe to be at once witty, mysterious, and direct – uploaded a few sexy yet tasteful photos, and went to town... or should I say, out of town?

I received a fair bit of attention from candidates hailing from both across the pond and south of the border, but (no offense American men) found the British lads to be far more clever, flirty and cheerful than their U.S. competition, who in my estimation seemed far more skittish, stunted, and, well… damaged – with a lot of obvious baggage.

It's probably safe to assume that men in the Queen's Kingdom suffer from bleeding hearts, commitment issues, indiscretions, and paranoia, but at least the Brits seemed to do a better job concealing their clunky wares. Of course I am basing these observations on a relatively limited samples size, but it was enough to persuade me to focus almost entirely on British Blokes instead of American Guys… that and the fact that I would be heading to England in the next six months and my company had recently announced that they had plans to open an office in London, creating a solid opportunity for relocation.

So – I convinced myself - I wasn't really inquiring in vain, rather in preparation.