Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


Newsflash: The New Year has not made the Single Blogger any more man-savvy

My friend The Banker and I were talking resolutions over lunch today. I am not usually one to make one (especially since in the last two months I've quit smoking AND biting my nails, so I'm kind of wary to resolve to do anything else), but I have felt compelled to focus on working out and eating better. The mass amount of food consumed in December combined with the January peer pressure always gets me.

 

For some reason, I always dive blindly into the New Year with unabated optimism and grand enthusiasm about all things. I mentally wipe the slate clean and declare that I'm not reverting back to my old ways. Not me. Not ever. I'll be a lean, mean, hard-working, dating machine!

 

It was this wide-eyed idealism that caused me to put down my fork and declare: "We have to, like, go out and meet new guys this year," as if this was something we'd never thought of before.

 

The Banker scrunched her nose and put her pita bread down.

 

"I know," she sighed. "It's like I KNOW I should go to bars and go out and meet boys, but I just don't want to. Do you ever feel like you Just. Don't. Want. To?"

 

I agreed with her. We like our routines. I told her that I have a nightly TV schedule in place and I like to have my dinner, a glass of wine and then a few hours of TV or reading before bed.

 

The Banker ran down a list of her recent social engagements – Trivial Pursuit at my place with wine, board games and snacks with friends and her regular poker night with the girls. She said she had so much fun doing these things, but she sensed that she should be out there at least trying to meet men.

 

"I feel like I should FORCE myself," she said, exasperated.

 

I have become obsessed with joining a new gym and how this is going to solve all of my problems, so I had another plan.

 

"I wish I would just join the gym by work, be running on the treadmill one day and just turn to the guy next to me and say, 'I'm tired. Let's just get married'," I told her. "And then we'd just go get married and get on with it."

 

"I've been at the same gym for TWO YEARS and I've never met anyone there," she said, punctuating the TWO YEARS with big eyes.

 

We stopped and stewed over the topic.

 

I had another idea. "Maybe I should join a Church?" I suggested.


Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



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