>Dear Datetopia,

You would not believe the manipulations and finagling I had to pull off to e-mail you this column from China, where Internet access is a carefully monitored privilege of the elite.

But I will do whatever it takes, Datetopia, because I love you. Mwah!

"Why are you doing all this summer globetrotting?" you might ask. Well, I've decided to become a love doctor in a new sense of the word "doctor."

Yes, I'm going for my Ph.D., and I'm searching the world for a suitably obscure and oh-so-academic thesis topic. Right now, I'm undecided between gay penguins and the shocking phenomenon of Chinese "ghost brides." I'll let you know what I decide upon.

And, I might add, with the economy the way it is, you also may want to consider getting another degree, just like your friend Dr. Date.

When the economy is red hot, get a job. When the economy is cold, get an education. But check out what this next letter's writer wants to get!

Dear Dr. Date,

Am I just weird, Doctor? None of my girlfriends seem to take the same approach to dating that I do. Here's the scoop, and sorry if I'm boring you with my sob story.

It started with my mother and my three stepdads. I never knew my biological father. It seemed like I never had a stable home, even though every one of my stepdads was a really decent man. But I'm not even focused on what kind of men they were, or what kind of men I like.

I've found I can like most men as long as they are reasonably good-looking and on the smart side, which is most of the guys here at the University. Lucky me, right?

The problem is that I'm not attracted to men for who they are in looks or personality, so much as for what they promise in stability and comfort. I'm seeking a man who has not only a good job or the prospect of a career, but a house.

Yes, a house. A home. I want something real and stable, with the white picket fence, granite countertops and oak flooring. I never want to live in an apartment and have nothing to my name, like my mother, bless her.

I look through real estate ads the way some guys look through porno. When I meet an attractive guy (and keep in mind that I find most guys attractive) the first thing I want to check out is where he lives.

Well, if it's a dorm or an apartment or even a rented house I lose interest quickly, even if I could, otherwise, like the guy. Grad students tend to have homes, but also tend to be married.

So I'm stuck, because most guys just aren't going to buy a home before they are in a long-term relationship. But my fantasy of the perfect mate is a guy who has a home and just needs me to do the interior decorating, especially in the master bedroom. (I've done some paid interior decorating work and I'm pretty good, but I've never had a canvas to express my full potential.)

Half of my girlfriends think I'm just too picky. Some have even accused me of being a calculating gold digger because I'm so focused on a home and so scarred by the way I grew up. (My mother married for love every time, and what does she have to show for it? No love and nothing else, either, except working a job she hates to keep a roof over her head month-to-month.)

I know what I want, Dr. Date, and it isn't some witty, strong, beer-chugging fraternity guy (like my biological father) who doesn't own as much as a timeshare in a dog house.

How do I get what I want? Or am I messed up in the head because of how I was raised?

-Picking Out Wallpaper Before A Boyfriend

Dear POWBAB,

You are not "messed up in the head," but it wouldn't hurt to read two or three books geared toward people who grew up with divorced parents.

It is much less painful to learn from the mistakes of others than from our own mistakes. You feel like your mother has made mistakes, and you don't want to repeat them. That's not messed up - that's smart.

You're also longing for happiness, especially since you've been a witness to so much unhappiness. For you, happiness means a stable home, and you've connected this idea very strongly to your vision of the perfect man.

How fortunate for you that you only need one perfect man, and not dozens of them. I would urge you to keep looking and to put the word out with your female friends to find you a good date that fits your selective (but not unreasonable) criteria.

Also, feel free to use the Internet. Next week, I will tell all of Datetopia my super-secret, patented, copyrighted trick to using the Internet to meet dates without seeming geeky or desperate. (That is, if I can somehow manage to find Internet access in the very rural part of China where I'm going tomorrow.)

But consider this: Why does it have to be the man who owns the house? Maybe what you really should do is get your own house or, at the very least, start looking at the actual houses, instead of real estate ads.

Who knows? Maybe you might meet your perfect man while out house-hunting. If he's out there (and I think he is), he might be house-hunting this very moment.

-Dr. Date

Dear Dr. Date

I thought I had met the perfect guy. He seemed sweet, kind, sensitive and had all the other attributes I was looking for, like good looks and a promising future.

We were driving out to see his family for the first time and, to my everlasting shock and horror, he deliberately ran over a turtle.

I thought at first he just didn't see the turtle, so I didn't say or do anything. But when he actually changed lanes to go after another turtle I screamed at him not to hit the turtle. I was shaking and crying and got out of the car and walked into a patch of woods and refused to go anywhere with him, even though we were in the middle of nowhere.

He told me any turtle on the road is doomed, anyway, so it's better to hit them cleanly to put them out of their misery, rather than see them suffer. I let him drive me to a Greyhound bus stop and I went home. He has been apologizing by phone and e-mail for days. I refuse to give him another chance. Am I too sensitive or is he a psycho?

-Sickened

Dear Sickened,

He's a psycho.

-Dr. Date