I’m not going to be that girl, and other anecdotes

21 Jan


For those of you that follow, you’ll notice that it’s been a while since my last post. For those of you that are stumbling upon this blog more recently, WELCOME, and I promise not to do this again. I’ve missed writing, and I’ve got a shitload to cover.

First up: The reason I didn’t write for so long.

In September, I almost posted the following:

Imagine walking into a room and seeing dozens of attractive, like-minded, well-dressed people.

Now imagine the opposite.

Guess which scenario I had the pleasure of finding myself in?

I can now say that I’ve gone speed dating. That is to say I had 8, 7-minute conversations with men – 6 of whom I either already knew, recognized or had gone on a date with. How much fun do you think that was?

It’s just $$, but all the same I could have spent the cash on something way more fun!


Following that joyful experience, I briefly dated a Vegan (won’t be making that mistake again because you know – I LOVE BACON, AND FISH, AND STEAK AND CHEESE!) who told me that while he wasn’t seeing anyone else, he couldn’t commit to exclusivity because something better might come along.

And then, I was Angry. And Sad. And Annoyed.

I had prepared many posts, written many notes and finally decided that I wasn’t going to be that girl. And that girl is the person who wants others to feel sorry for her. Make no mistake, I have an absolutely amazing life, an amazing family and wonderful friends. And while I am sometimes lonely, and haven’t had sex in an amount of time that is embarrassing to write about (and my 17-year-old cousin reads this) I am in actuality a very happy person and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. That’s not how I roll.

So here’s what’s coming up people:

1. I’m an International Dating Superstar

2. The email I wanted to write, and the email I wrote

3. The NYT really pissed me off

4. The time cliché karma kicked my ass

5. Some actual adventure

I’m working on these posts right now. They are coming. Get excited.


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