I've had some requests to re-start my blog (you like me, you really like me!), which I very much appreciate. I apologize for going off the radar a bit-- it's been quite a busy while for me. I graduated college and stuff (pause for applause) so, you know... Respect.
I've also had some inquiries into my current level of love life (amateur) and unfortunately, I have to keep that under wraps. Let's just say it's been eventful--I had some respect for men restored by one, and taken away by another. Back to neutral here.
I'm sick as a dog, so I've also spent a lot of time watching "Ally McBeal" on Netflix, too, which has been strangely cathartic.
Sorry. Only got enough fucks for one in this cup.
She is self-absorbed, awkward, and gets screwed over by men! It's like watching a tall, anorexic version of myself (said every woman watching "Ally McBeal" ever).
Anyway. All it comes down to is I still get a mini panic attack when I think about being in a serious relationship.
Also I'm getting a little concerned for my social life. I'm spending an inordinate amount of time sitting in a dark basement with an ancient cat that looks like this.
I'm texting people I shouldn't. I'm drawing a smiley face on my pillow and trying to get it to tell me about its feelings.
That ain't healthy.
Plus, I'm really bored. Real life is surprisingly dull.
So I've returned, with high hopes, to OKC and POF...
Yeah, nothing's changed. No one got more charming or attractive in my absence.
I've had a request to "look up my skirt" (sorry, I don't really wear skirts). A few careful inquiries into what I might be looking for (SEX??), and an invitation to guest star in the unhealthy bedroom of a married couple.
And, of course, the basic "you're pretty," "I like your smile," compliments that mean absolutely nothing but I kind of need right now. Honestly, after a terrific rejection followed by a week of strep throat that has transitioned into some horrible mutated flu virus, I am flipping through old Facebook photos to remind myself that I'm kind of hot and don't usually resemble a newly birthed Orc.
Like this. But with more mucus.
I'm also altering my standards, trying to weed out the inevitable annoyances.
1) I will not go out with anyone that can't buy me a drink at the bar. Like, legally.
2) I seriously will stop talking to you if you fuck up "your." It's ONE THING that drives me nuts. Ok not the only one thing but it's a biggie.
3) I will not go out with you if you're ugly. Sorry. Our hypothetical children would be hideous and become horrible targets for online bullies.
4) If you can't bother sending more more than a "hi," I'm not interested. Put in a moderate effort... Unless you're really attractive. In which case, I'm flattered. How you doin'.
5) If you make a sexual reference, you're out.... Unless it's a really clever entendre. Points for funny pervs. That's why my tagline is "more than a handful."
6) If you ask me about my tagline, I will act offended and assure you it is in reference to my personality, not my ample, supple bosom. Cad!
What's the line up after these eliminations?
Just one, and he's only made the cut so far because he's really cute. Like a tan baby kick boxer before he's gotten those gorgeous cheekbones shattered like a dropped plate.
Pro's and Con's Time? YUP!
-He's really fixated on cuddling with me. I'm not really a cuddler. I'm generally more of a... please don't touch me until we've gotten to know each other and reached a level of comfort for physical interaction. Maybe after a good year or three.
-He's also really fixated on the fact that I have pleather pants. That is probably my fault for bringing up the fact that I have pleather pants (I was telling him my aspirations for espionage).
-He signs everything XXOO. I'm not signing up to go out with a 14-year-old girl.
-He's HOT. Dayum.
So we have tentatively arranged to meet when I am feeling better (and bonus, the thinnest I've ever been! Thanks, highly contagious illnesses). Bonus points that he lives two hours away and is willing to drive out here to meet me. Maybe I'll even buy him a cup of coffee for his efforts.
As long as dinner's on him.