Expedition Day Five: Send Reinforcements (or Alcohol)

I reinstalled Bumble, added Hinge to my repertoire, and at five days in, I’m already feeling decidedly “meh” about all of it. Coupled with an Office Space-caliber case of the Mondays and intermittent rain clouds, my malaise had me moping around on self-pity island for the better part of the day. After I sent a…

Thats Not How it Works

Not being one to sit and wallow, and since I’m pretty much in a permanent state of introspection, I decided to pull my old friend Bumble off the cloud and add a new app, Hinge, to the line-up. My first impression of Hinge is that, by and large, it’s the exact same group of men…

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Back in December, I left a detail out of my story because it was embarrassing, but I want to share it now. It’s still embarrassing, but it illustrates a larger point. A few days before my 36th birthday, I found myself getting broken up with at an Indian restaurant. I had seen it coming, but…

Jane Austen Vs. The All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

Do you ever feel like you have some area of your life under control, only to be blindsided by evidence to the contrary? I am currently feeling overwhelmed by insecurity, and while most people I know deal with insecurity regularly (it seems to be a fairly unifying human experience), I usually don’t worry too much…

Chasing the Thigh Gap

I’m sitting on his couch, wearing red underwear and a t-shirt he gave me, my feet propped up on the coffee table. He’s lying on the couch to my right, and we’re talking about Saturday morning things, which is to say, nothing of consequence. I’m sorry to change the subject, but I just have to…

“I’m Not Worried.”

Even though I had plenty of face time with The Leo this weekend, I didn’t ever feel like the time was right for the conversation I wanted to have. I mean, what was I even going to say? You see, the thing is…the reason I asked you to stop reading the blog is because I…

The Trouble With “Too Nice”

I’ve lately started wondering about the sort of dysfunction one must experience and internalize to look at a potential romantic partner and judge them “too nice.” What does it even mean to be too nice? Am I so accustomed to assholes that I’m instantly suspicious of nice guys? (Hint: yes) By picking on this non-existent…

You Are Cordially Uninvited

I don’t doubt that what I see as my own charm, whimsy, and honesty constitute red flags for potential dates. So to any man who emerges from the obstacle course of my single-mom status and “refreshing honesty” about my shortcomings with his eyes still fixed on pursuit, I say, “Bravo, sir – bring it on.”…

The Bliss of Ignorance

I prefer when circumstances align that allow me to be either a written processor or a verbal processor. When I’m struggling with something, I come here and write about it, or I call one of the people in my inner circle, or I do some combination of the two, ultimately arriving at some level of…

Single Mom Seeks Unicorn

I liken this blog to a slightly more edited version of my personal journal — it’s raw, confessional, and fiercely honest. One thing I don’t want is for it to ever veer into mommy blog territory, so while you shouldn’t be concerned that this post is a trend in that direction, I do want to…

…What She’s Having

I find myself thinking a lot lately about When Harry Met Sally — or rather, about the film’s central question: can men and women be friends without sex getting in the way? I’ve made several friends over the past year or so, most notably The Confidante and The Voyeur (my many years of French classes…

A Different Kind of Ghosting

The ghosts of matches past keep appearing. Fortunately not in my bedroom at midnight, but still. In the past two weeks, I’ve heard from The Scientist, The Hermit, The Leaguer, and The Cop. Full disclosure: The Hermit and I have been exploring the landscape of a text-only friendship for the past five weeks, and it’s…

Caveat Emptor

Let’s step back in time to when I met The Manager. That Sunday was the last day of my girls trip before heading home to reality and colder temperatures. My flight was in the late afternoon, and The Manager was getting back into town around mid-day. We arranged to meet at a hotel near mine,…

Quit This.

I want to push boundaries. Mostly my own, But yours, too. A child with a lens Tilted just so in the sun, I’ll watch as you squirm, Trying to evade My beam of intrusion. I want to demolish walls. Mostly my own, But yours, too. Hands on the controls, Mad gleam in my eye, As…

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Time for an update. I know things have been a bit glum here lately, but life is generally a grab bag of exultant and heart-wrenching, and my life is no exception, so here goes… I’ve seen The Leo twice recently. While I’ve been working through the fallout from my complicated feelings toward The Voyeur, I’ve…

Happily Narrowing the Field

Want to know what bothers me about this meme (aside from the misplaced modifier)? It implies that because we’ve been hurt or rejected by previous partners, we are now damaged goods. To think of oneself as “goods” at all is a bit problematic, but to assume the label of “damaged” strikes a nerve with me….

Footnotes, Part 2

You may remember back in September when I wrote about being assaulted in a nightclub. I kept the account pretty brief because I wanted to focus on The Knight, but now that I’ve wrapped up the forty, it’s probably time to unpack what happened. I was bored one Wednesday night, and my kids were with…

My Past Isn’t a Script for My Future

As I look back over the past few weeks, it appears as though my head and heart decided to ring in the new year by declaring a vicious war against one another. This degree of unprecedented inner turmoil has left me out of sorts, at a loss to explain myself. And then I wondered, “Could…

Footnotes, Part 1

There were a few things I mentioned briefly during The Year, things that I promised to revisit at a later time. Well, that time has come. Without further ado, I want to tell the story of how The Predator got his name. The short story is that I didn’t give him this alias. On the…

Aftermath

What did I think would happen? I used romantic comedy references to explain how I was feeling, but I certainly didn’t expect a romantic comedy resolution (which, by the way, would have looked something like The Voyeur showing up at my doorstep, offering a short, dramatic monologue before telling me he loved me too, a…