it's become clear to me that i may just not be the dating type. despite all of my attempts to act like a lady, be demure, and play it cool i usually just end up drunk, screaming, and asking guys if their name is kevin in a desperate attempt to get him to talk to me. as much as i would like matthew mcconaughey to ride up on his scooter and pull over my taxi in the middle of the brooklyn bridge, i don't think that's quite in the cards for me. i'll probably just end up forcing TT to date me forever and make up boyfriends to make ex boyfriends hella jealous (fyi, my fake boyfriends are all really hot, rich and well hung).
now you all may be thinking HOW THE FUCK IS THIS POSSIBLE? YOU'RE LIKE THE HOTTEST, COOLEST, FUNNIEST RASHIDA JONES LOOKALIKE EVER (the jury is still out on whether i have any african american blood in me), and you wouldn't be alone in thinking that. but i've done a little soul searching recently and the following red flags popped up as to why i'm possibly still single:
- you can take the girl out of picnic day but you can't take picnic day out of the girl: i lost my vcard on the floor of my friend's house while his roommate was making a sandwich. 'nuff said.
- the only "real" relationship i ever had started at a strip club. this should have been a precursor to what type of relationship we would have but his good looks won me over. damn my weakness for jfk jr!
- i prefer lace to any other clothing material out there. honestly, i have at least 6 pieces of lace see through clothing. now i know there's a lot of things guys want to do to a girl in lace, but date them is probably not one of them.
- the first guy i liked in 7th grade asked me to go steady. he broke up with me 2 hours later after i refused to hold his hand. i cant commit and the thought of PDA makes me want to vomit.
- tt: my partner in crime, sister i never had, biggest fan etc. no guy is ever going to be as witty, funny, or entertaining as she is.
- all i ever want to do is party. the last time i went on a pseudo date, i took a xanax before (to calm my nerves!), had anywhere between 4-7 drinks (can't remember, whoops!), hooked up in the backseat of an escalade (or something comparable), broke our espresso machine, slammed my head into our table and basically terrorized tt for an hour. and i didn't remember anything after the backseat hookup until t had to tell me via gchat the next day.
- i write blogs about why i'm undateable.
so there you have it, maybe i'm undatable and maybe i'm destined to be single forever. but you know what?
sorry, i'm not that sorry.
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