Mr. Blue writes this week from a sunny hotel room in London, about to head home. The Blue family had a fine time and how could we not, in such a great city? For one thing, it's a great newspaper city; the morning reader has a big buffet to choose from, and what a pleasure to get away from the daily meat loaf of the New York Times and read some journalists who have the capacity to surprise. The English press is freewheeling, capable of delicious sarcasm, wild hair-up-the-bum opinions and merciless wit (for which it atones by publishing those long elegant loving obituaries when Great Men and Great Women finally succumb).

Yesterday we went to the London Zoo, a wonderful place with stately architecture and well-tended animals and beautiful plantings, and you stroll around on a spring day, flocks of white and yellow daffodils blooming here and there, and observe the giraffe couple nuzzling each other and lightly necking, and the elephants politely noshing their hay, and the fish, the beautiful fish, in the aquarium. Baby Blue sat on the railing, in front of tank after tank, like watching fish TV, looking at the tomato clownfish and the Picasso triggerfish and the foxface rabbitfish and the yellow sailfin tang and the porkfish, bright yellows and blues sailing through the water, and a horsefaced fish, bright blue with yellow trim, who seemed to be the boss, pecking at the others. Afterward, you walk across the broad green sward of Regents Park to the outdoor cafe by the Queen Mary Garden and sit and enjoy lovely sandwiches and a plate of green curry in the sunshine. Nearby is a close-clipped lawn where Mr. Blue, one spring day years ago, rented a canvas reclining chair and reclined in it and napped for a couple hours. Felt like a Wodehouse character, an old boy from the Drones Club, but woke up feeling as cheerful as P.G. himself and went off for a lovely walk and a good dinner.

When an American starts talking about "lovely sandwiches" and "a lovely walk," it's time to leave England and come home and go to stock car races or read David Mamet, but it's a great city, London. The older traveler sits in the park, eating his sandwich, and thinks that perhaps he has seen enough of the world and that perhaps his traveling from now on will be limited to return trips to places he's already seen. One can survive not having seen Japan, or South Africa, or Rio, or Moscow, or anyplace else -- the aim of travel is to get away from home, for the pleasure of the departure and the pleasure of the return, and to spend the intervening time in an interesting place, and it doesn't really matter where. A person could do worse than simply keep coming back to London -- be a sort of monogamous traveler -- and the city would keep rewarding you with new sights. At Mr. Blue's age, one could be happy as a tomato clownfish, if your tank were London. Hope to return soon. And now on to the week's mail.

Dear Mr. Blue,

After five-and-a-half years of no sex, I worked up the nerve to call this man I have known casually for a year and ask him over for dinner. I figured, be brave and go for it. We had a lovely time and ended up in bed together. I am 47. He is 53. We are both unattached, but both have children still at home. In fact, he is my daughter's basketball coach. I shudder at the thought. I now find myself sneaking around trying to figure out how to see him without my daughter finding out. Neither one of us is ready for this to go too far too fast. But I am so completely inexperienced at this, I find myself wondering if I just shouldn't say thanks for a wonderful evening and bail out now. I seriously doubt we would ever end up together as partners -- I just want to have some fun with another consenting adult. He definitely wants to get together again, and I find myself planning to get rid of my kid for a few hours to hop in the sack with this guy. Any suggestions?

Salome

Dear Salome,

Good for you. You saw what you wanted and you went out and got it, and I'm sure it was a lovely time, you and the basketball coach, and now you must deal with the slight complications. Go ahead and see him again, I say. (He's Italian, right?) What's the problem? Suggestions about what? What to wear? What music to put on? What snacks to serve afterward? I say togas, Verdi and a thin-crust pizza.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I have a strong personality. I'm a good listener and a solid friend. But I am loud. And talkative. And I laugh a lot. I have found that many men ask me out based on my looks and then are turned off by my personality. I like my personality. I have tried to be cool and aloof, and it lasted a few minutes and didn't feel right. Should I tame myself down for the first few dates, or should I just be me and let the dice roll where they may?

Teetering

Dear Teetering,

Generally it's wise not to strategize in matters of the heart, and to simply be yourself, but "loud" and "talkative" and "laugh a lot" describes a broad range of behavior, at one end of which you find a harridan who talks your face off in a voice that can remove wallpaper and shrieks at her own jokes. Do you have an internal monitor that tells you if you're getting out of hand? Men have a hard time with shrillness: It's not that we dislike assertive women, it's that a certain pitch distresses us. You hear it sometimes in a crowded room, a woman shrieking and cackling, and you can see every man in the joint cringe and smile in gratitude that he is not with That Woman.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I have a wonderful younger sister who has, for about two years now, been seeing a loud, overbearing buffoon. He is always offending someone and he often upsets her, though she doesn't tell him so. I do not believe that their relationship is healthy for her, and I do not approve of it. Her happiness is very important to me. My parents are both responsible people and have met her boyfriend, and I think it is their business to intervene, and not mine. What's a big sister to do?

Worried

Dear Worried,

If you really want to wreck this romance, be a friend to the boyfriend. Don't be aloof, don't reject him, don't criticize him to your sister: This will only cement the relationship. Befriend him. A friend can do so much more damage than an enemy can. Be a pal and learn his secrets and praise him to your sister. Faint praise, the poisoned kind that can destroy him in her eyes.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I am 22, a recent college graduate who just broke up with the man I thought was The One. Part of the problem was that I was quite depressed. I'm working on the depression with therapy, etc., and it's more under control; now what needs to be decided is where I go next. I have the chance to go to New York or go somewhere I've never been before, where I don't know anyone: Portland, Ore., which, from what I can gather, is just the greenest place on Earth. What do you recommend after a hard breakup?

Getting Back on My Feet

Dear Getting,

If you have New York and Portland to choose between, you have a choice that any of us could envy. New York has Central Park and the Metropolitan Opera, and Portland has roses and the Willamette River and Powell's, a great bookstore, and one could extend the lists of assets and liabilities, but it really comes down to 1) work and 2) what are you looking for? The best reason to go to New York is to find good work and to get the hard-knocks education that a big city offers: You learn a lot about people in New York that you won't learn in, say, Minnesota. Life is a lot looser there; you can have ice cream for breakfast and nobody cares; you can walk around with a weasel in your pocket, or sing arias, or walk on your hands, and people pay you no mind. New York is phenomenally expensive, as you know, and life can be dramatically lonely -- it's no place for someone susceptible to self-pity, I think. If you have a pretty clear idea what you'd do in New York for the first year, then go ahead, but if you're at loose ends, Portland might be an easier place to figure things out. On the other hand, there's always Rome.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I am a 21-year-old woman in love with a man who proposed to me on Valentine's Day, but my problem is I need affection, and he is the shy type and doesn't know how to give it. I have told him that he needs to put his arms around me and kiss me because it is what I need. I need to be complimented too, but he says he can't think of anything to say and his mind goes blank. I can't marry someone who won't show me love or tell me what it is that he loves about me. But I love him with all my heart and will have a hard time telling him to hit the road. I don't know what to do. Could you please help me?

Love Sick

Dear Love Sick,

You're in the midst of a beautiful dilemma that, hopefully, will last your entire life. You love someone dearly and you are trying to get from your beloved what you need. This is my situation, and my wife's situation, and my mother and father's situation (they're 84 and 86), and everyone else's situation who is lucky. Even Italians. You can stimulate this shy young man by treating him to a show of emotion. Tell him you love him and that you feel he doesn't care about you, and produce some tears for emphasis, and don't be afraid to raise your voice. Don't be subtle about this. Put the hay down where the goats can get it. If he is too dense to take simple direction, then maybe eventually you'll have to point him to the highway, but meanwhile, act up and raise your voice.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I've fallen madly in love with a woman whom I adore, but she's Catholic and I'm Jewish. We both feel tremendous ties to our respective religions, and my parents are strongly against my marrying a non-Jew. So starting a family with this woman would possibly tear another family apart. I also feel I have a duty to my ancestors who've sacrificed so much to perpetuate a Jewish lineage. I know children of interfaith marriages, and I have yet to see one where the child is instilled with any sense of Jewish traditions. So what should I do?

Capulet Montague

Dear Capulet,

Mr. Blue doesn't have a lot of faith in the power of mad love to work miracles, and you don't either, apparently, and so you've made a good case for saying goodbye to this adorable Catholic woman and finding a Jewish woman to fall madly in love with. So that's what you should do.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I am 44, married to a man who has two beautiful daughters from a previous marriage. He and I married when I was 38; I had long since given up any hopes of marriage, let alone having children. I have now been pregnant four times, and have suffered four miscarriages. I am living unhappily on the horns of this dilemma. I am despairing and inconsolable and am ready to leave this marriage for a life of spinsterhood as befits my status. How does one live with this without turning to stone or nursing endless fruitless sniping bitterness about the good fortune of others?

Grieving

Dear Grieving,

I don't have the experience that would give me any grasp of what you're going through, and whatever wisdom I could offer (let time pass, cleave to your loved ones, take a deep breath) would be so glib as to make you want to hurl stale rolls at me. The first thing to do is to find women who've had miscarriages -- perhaps there's a group of such women that meets regularly -- and share your experiences with them and commiserate and air out your despair. Four miscarriages is a lot of grief to endure, and don't endure it alone. Of course there is hope that you might conceive and carry a baby full-term, even at 44 and with your history, and perhaps you want to pursue this -- consult a fertility specialist, put yourself at the mercy of the wonders of science -- but whether you do or don't, you must deal with this pain and try to turn it to good.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I am 45, divorced for 10 years, and last October I met a man on the Internet. We knew almost immediately that we were meant for each other. He visited me, and two months later I visited him. It was blissful and we both felt we were falling in love and were soul mates. Then he told me that he and his wife are going to marriage counseling to see if there is anything left to save. He says it is just a formality and that once he is through with counseling, he will be able to fall in love with me, but right now is just not available. Should I hang around, continue talking to him every day and wait until this is officially over, or do I need to cut the ties now?

Confused

Dear Confused,

There is no tie to cut. There is only a story that you were told, that you believed and enjoyed, and now you return that book to the library and take out another.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I'm a 45-year-old woman happily married to an artist whom I consider my best friend. No children, by choice. I have satisfying freelance work and we live in a cheap, light-filled, fifth-floor walk-up filled with art, books, movies, music, cats and souvenirs of our travels; and a spectacular panorama of San Francisco out the bay windows. We don't have money but don't seem to care much.

It seems like days and days and days can go by without my leaving the apartment. My idea of the good life seems to be puttering around the place unwashed, reading a book here, listening to an opera there, petting the cats, gazing out the window, e-mailing, watching tapes of "The Sopranos," thinking about my book. I worry that this is somehow ... wrong. Is my life pathetic inertia? Will I end up lonely regretting a life unlived?

Happy & Anxious

Dear H&A,

If you're having a good life there in your fifth-floor walk-up, enjoy it and God bless. Please don't give up bathing entirely, and please don't entertain fantasies about the Sopranos being your own family, and please don't make the cats your confidantes. Talking to yourself is OK, especially in Italian. But do get outdoors at least every other day, so that you don't start building a wall between In Here and Out There. And you need the exercise.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I am a big mess right now. I am 27, a professional woman, attractive, well-educated, outgoing, with good friends. I have been dating a man for almost two years and we've been incredibly happy together, but after a couple fights recently, I left for vacation with a friend for a week. (My boyfriend couldn't go because he was starting a new job.) Upon my return he tells me that he's thought about our future and doubts that we're right for each other, doesn't think we "bring the best out in each other."

I am so confused and heartbroken. I feel that this is so unfair that he's making the decision himself, rather than working it out, that he's ready to give up on us! Aren't doubts normal in a relationship? I love him. Up to a week ago he seemed completely in love with me. I've told him how much I love him and want to work things out. I've said everything I can say. What do I do now? And if we do break up, and my heart gets broken worse than I feel now, is there any chance I will meet and fall in love again in time to get married and have kids, both of which I desperately want? I feel I may have wasted A LOT of time with this guy, who despite his words of love was never going to really commit to me. I just can't imagine that there is someone else out there who is worth my time. I'm at the end of my rope.

Brokenhearted

Dear Broken,

Let the gentleman have his head and find his own way, and if he decides to return, he'll return wiser, and if he carries through on the breakup, then consider it a done deal and be grateful that the blow-up came now and not 10 years from now. You love him and of course it'll be hard, but don't make it any harder than it has to be. Enroll in Mr. Blue's 90-Day Drill for the brokenhearted. Eat lightly, get lots of exercise and push yourself to new physical goals, avoid alcohol, withdraw a little from social life and apply yourself to learning something you've long wanted to learn -- French, swimming, arc welding, Japanese cooking -- and subject yourself to some healthy introspection, an examination of your life, your virtues and weaknesses, your habits. It's a desolate time and put it to good use. In a year, you'll be able to imagine meeting someone else. Somebody from Italy.