My dating life has cycles. There are times of drought and times of flash floods. Too many metaphors? Fear not, I came prepared. I'm providing you with a few diagrams.
I give you Exhibit A...
The majority of the time, this is my issue. And actually, this particular part of my little problem really doesn't surprise me. If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of a freak of nature. Most dudes don't exactly get turned on by girls who start belting out songs from Funny Girl after two glasses of Moscoto. So, the fact that there are times when I'd be lucky if the mail man knocked on my door to chit chat, doesn't really blow me out of the water.
Of course, I get lonely from time to time when no one seems to be interested in me. I do have a heart and a pulse, contrary to what my friends may have told you. But I've become quite good at entertaining myself and 80% of my days I spend cracking up at stupid things I do, so I don't really find myself getting bored very often. I have this theory that people only get lonely when they're bored. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Freudians.
However, my real problem is with Exhibit B...
You're probably asking yourself, "Self, is she seriously complaining about getting too much play from men?! Is this girl really that ungrateful?" My answer to your inquiry is yes. Yes, I'm freaking complaining about this. It's ridiculous! Do you know how difficult it is for me to keep track of my life being a crazy, single, chubby-little-meatball of a girl? Ok, now imagine me getting attention from 8 different guys at the same time. My brain goes into overload mode and I can't keep anything straight. My thoughts become more scattered than ever. I hyperventilate, perspire, breakout into hives, run a fever... it's god-awful, I tell ya! The worst of it is... I honestly don't get it. Weeks prior to this new found popularity, I could have streaked nude across America and not even a 90 year old pervert would give me the time of day if I asked him for it. Then, all of the sudden, every male within a 15 foot radius feels a compulsion to either ask for my number, shoot me an awful line that makes me want to sock him between the eyes, or start humping my leg. (Canines seem to be in on this conspiracy as well.)
All I want is one guy. Simple. Not too much to ask for. Just a genuinely nice, decent looking chap who thinks I'm funny and cute and can recite lines from old Adam Sandler movies with me and who will buy me mint chocolate chip ice cream after I've had a bad day. That's it. That's all I want... nothing more, nothing less.
God help me in my quest for romance. I don't want to become a nun and I don't want to become a Mormon... but both options are starting to seem very viable at this point.
No comments:
Post a Comment