Dater's Desperation

I've been accused of many things; being too smart, being too tall and reading books way too fast. I've also been given the side-eye about my relationship with tomatoes (no, I don't swim naked in them, I just love me some tomato-based products but hate tomatoes) and my aversion to wearing uncomfortable shoes despite buying many pairs of them. I say whatever, people don't know my life! However, there is one particular area  that I've had problems with for most of my adulthood and I have been unjustly accused of it being my fault.

Dating.

If you have been following my blog for a while, you're somewhat familiar with my dating disasters life. (If you have not been following my blog, you clearly have been wasting your time looking at other blogs and it's time for you to catch up. Go ahead, I'll wait.) Judging by some of the clowns I've written about, one could deduce that I'm not especially picky. I could blather on and on about being trickerated, but it would not give me back the time and cute outfits I've wasted on those dudes. (I really was told that maybe I was too smart by a date, FYI.) While you indeed could deduce that, you sir/madam would be wrong! Wrong I say!

I am generally picky when it comes to affairs of the heart. I know what I like and I can usually tell when a guy will move beyond the first phone conversation (although nowadays, it's more like a textversation). Apparently, this is my problem - I don't give a guy a real chance. It's been suggested numerous times for me to think outside the box, to let go of my "type" and date someone different. Then I do and I wind up writing about them being liars and sending it to them to read (true story).

Sigh.

There are periods of time when I've quit dating because it's exhausting. However, it gets lonely in these mean streets and sometimes all you want is a boo thang to make you play hooky from work every now and again. It's not a crime; we all need a kiss on the neck to remind us that we're human (and to wash your dirty neck). It's just when we're looking really hard for that kiss, we may forget a couple of things.

Like having standards.

There are ways you can fight this loneliness - spend more time with your friends and family, take up a new hobby (the zither is going to make a comeback any moment, I know it), focus on other aspects of your life that may be a little lackluster. I know it's easier said than done; you've washed your neck everyday, waiting for that kiss. But before you know it, you find yourself entertaining the possibility of dating that guy from the gym who looks like your Aunt Esther. Or that chick who kind of reminds you of Steve Urkel (like he wasn't a total hottie when he turned into Stefan, stop acting like you didn't watch the show). You did get a hello and wink last time your paths crossed; maybe you should take them up on their Jamba Juice for two coupon.

That my friend, may be a sign that you are coming down with a case of Dater's Desperation.

Do not despair, it's nothing to be ashamed of! Almost everyone has experienced it; some have even married under its influence. (DON'T DO IT!!!) If you've been single for a long time and you're tired of it, you may find yourself giving folks a chance who really should not be out amongst the general public. We start making up lies, like how much it doesn't bother us that they're a little cross-eyed or they believe that North Career is a country. It's okay that they chew with their mouth open or that they take a swig of gin first thing in the morning (it kills the germs). It's okay...they kissed you on your neck.

Okay, it was really your elbow, but it most certainly was close. Especially when you raise your hand, your elbow is hella much closer to your neck.

You and I both know this is not okay. You're better than this. Don't give in to the desperation. I can't promise you that you'll find your true love or that "the one" is going to cross your path tomorrow at the grocery store but if you clog your life up with these out-of-desperation folks, there will not be enough room for the right ones. While I've definitely experienced my fair share of Dating Fatigue Syndrome, I know that it can be better. Have patience, young grasshopper.

And don't let nobody kiss on your elbows. Save that for marriage.