Saturday, October 5, 2013

What. Fucking. Ever.

Welp, my lovely Mustache Man was spotted cuddling up on some very slim organic hippy-type lady today, thus ruining my crush much too early. Was it too much to ask that he not just throw that in my face at this juncture? Let's be real. There's no way I was going to actually talk to him. I would have dragged this out for months and been perfectly happy secretly pretending we were a couple. Those fantasies keep me going in my everyday life; those, and imagining I'm a guest on "Ellen."

One of the problems with living in a small town, especially being an almost-thirty in a small town, is that dating pickings are slim... especially if you're as picky as I am. Yes, I'm looking for a lot out of my next guy, but the next guy could possibly end up being my husband, so why not be particular?

But everyone is either married, has moved out of this stupid city (as you should too!), someone you know/grew up with, or just overall unappealing to you for whatever reason. Maybe there's something to the fact that they've stayed here while everyone else fled in a Biblical manner.

Possibly I need to go on a bad-boy binge and just sow some wild oats before stumbling upon the Future Mr. MeMe, but that's equally difficult in a small town where everyone knows everyone, unless you want that guy you randomly made out with in a parking lot to show up at your next social gathering. Not speaking from experience or anything.

'Tis the seasons for weddings, and it's turning out to be especially rough on me this year. Not that I'm not excited for everyone who's out there tying the knot or producing babies. But I'm faced with standing up in a wedding soon as the only single bridesmaid. This sets me up as 1) a figure of pity or ridicule for the older crowd and 2) a figure of sex for the males who assume I'll be upset and rendered desperate by my situation (they are correct, and I will also be drunk).

Perhaps it's time to reopen the dating files and get out there a couple times a month, at least to keep my spirits up and make me feel like I'm making some small attempt to socialize with the male species.

Plus, I'm bored as hell half the time, and I could use someone to hang out with on a Friday night. It won't hurt my bank account if someone else is buying the drinks, either.

Time to wade through the applicants. Wish me luck.

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