The girls are on board, my sister is not. I'm not letting that kill my plans though. My nieces my be young and no where near ready to settle down yet, but they know me better than any of my other family members.

I also have my best friend and her husband helping out, so I've got a good balance of people who know me well and people with their own wisdom and experience to understand what goes into to a good marriage.

Now all I have to do is wait for them to tell me who my new husband is.

That is turning out to be the hardest part of this whole operation.

Shortly after Andrew dumped me over the phone for some bimbo that can't even tie her own shoelaces without his help, and my sister's entirely unsympathetic advise about not being in such a hurry to find a husband and start my own family, I found Raven Swann's website.

Holy cow! A real, live match maker that actually makes matches-- not just some over-priced, glorified dating service!

OK. Maybe over-priced.

Then again, if she can really deliver on a husband? Worth every penny.

The problem is that Raven doesn't just take my info and my money and come back with Prince Charming, it's a really involved process. It took months of interviews with her and her assistant before she even got around to the point where she was ready to work with my "team."

Oh yeah. My "team." A handful of the people I trust to choose my husband for me, because Raven isn't just a match maker-- she does arranged marriages. Which is where my sister bailed on me with a disgusted grunt and my nieces rolled their eyes and made fun of me for a solid 20 minutes before jumping on board with Ron and Kelly.

"OK, but Dorthy," Number 1 niece, Jasmine, starts in as she goes over the criteria for choosing a match for me, "you are kinda over the top, you know."

They keep telling me this, "I have no idea what that means," I answer.

"It means you're..." Number 2 niece, Rebecca, looks toward her older sister for help.

"Um," Jasmine falters, "You're kind of overbearing."

"Yeah, Aunt Doe," Becca says, "You're kind of intimidating."

I snort, "If a man is intimidated by a confident woman, he's pathetic."

We've been discussing the reasons why my relationships haven't worked out. The girls keep telling me that I need to back off some. That I'm too independent and that I don't let men take care of me enough.

"I don't need a man to take care of me," I tell them, "I need a man to love me."

Becca goes back to the information in her email about what Raven requires of them with a shake of her head, "This is going to be hard," she mutters to her sister as if I'm not in the room.

"Word." Is all Jasmine has to say.

"Hey! I'm right here, you know," I say, "I can hear you."

"Fine, Doe, hear us," Jasmine scoffs, "you haven't heard anything we've been telling you for the last 5 years about dating."

How can the girls be so much better with men than I am? They're 6 and 8 years younger than me. I should be the one giving them advice, not the other way around. But this is the way it's always been. They've been my dating gurus since they were in high school.

Not that their advice has done me much good.

Maybe it'd be different if I actually took any of it.

I throw one of the pillows from the sofa at Jasmine and the girls laugh.

"This is serious," I remind them, "I don't need a date to prom, I'm looking for a husband. Happily ever after shit, you guys got that?"

"Yup," Becca says, her head still down over her phone, "Clingy mama's boy with self esteem issues seeking overbearing, pistol packing mama. We know exactly what to look for in a guy for you, Aunt Dorthy."

I look around for another pillow to throw at my younger niece, but they've all made their way across the room at this point.

"NOT!" I try to yell, but we're all laughing too hard, "I want a man! A real man! Who can handle a real woman without his penis shriveling up and crawling inside!"

"Oh Em Gee! You did not just say that!" Becca's laughing so hard now she's fallen on the floor.

"Bex," Jasmine takes on of the pillows I've thrown at her and hits her sister with it, "how long have you known Aunt Dorthy? You should know better than to be shocked by anything she says!"

It's true. There's less age difference between me and my nieces than there is between me and my sister. I baby sat them when I was in high school and by the time they got into their teens they realized I was more of a friend than a "grown up." They're comfortable telling me anything, but that means they have to put up with whatever comes out of my mouth too!

Jasmine's a little older than her sister, she almost never refers to me as "Aunt" Dorthy, and she's a lot more comfortable with hearing me talk trash. Becca still cringes. But we do have fun together.

"OK, Aunt Dorthy," Rebecca says as she gets up off the floor, "we get it. We'll find the right guy for you."

My nieces gather their things and I walk them to the door.

"I know you will," I tell her with a hug, "You guys know exactly what I'm looking for." I give Jasmine a hug too and try not to tear up as I watch them walk out to their car.

I can't believe I'm really doing this, I think as I close the door after they drive off. I'm going to get married. Finally. To a man who wants to get married too. To me.

The thought is a little overwhelming, but it's also exciting. No more hit and miss first dates. No more jerks who are looking for helpless bimbos. Between Raven and my team, they are going to find me a real man. Someone who's strong enough to handle a woman who can handle herself.

Someone who's going to love me for me.

I don't know if I'm more excited or relieved by that, but I can't wait to meet my husband. I just hope it doesn't take them too long to pick him out.