Before I dive into my blog, I have a side bar. Today is the start to the Rangers’ season. I have never seen MSG so hopping. That’s Madison Square Garden to you country folk. It’s like how Chicagoans spend so much time on LSD…
Anyhoo.
So. I made a decision last night. I am done. I am retiring from the hunt.
I have officially entered my 6 months of free Match.com service. That means I have spent the last 6 months of my life looking and winking and emailing to no avail. $101.94 later all I have to show for it is 6 free dinners, 4 perv stories, 2 new friends, and a headache. It’s like the 12 Days of Christmas only no wise men.
So I am hanging up my long distance scope, boxing up my camouflage, and locking up my deer blind. I’ll hang onto my license and log in every now and then, just to keep my account active. But I’ll leave the ice breaking to the guys.
I’m quiting cold turkey.
Even checking out guys on the subway and in the crowds., which has become my newest habit. I’ll keep my headphones on and my head pointed straight, chin held high.
Now, for those of you who know me (which is all two of you that actually read this), you will know it’s like a junkie going into rehab.
Only there’s no group therapy.
Guys have always been my Kryptonite. I know you all are thinking, no way she can pull this off.
I have no choice. I’m tired of trying and failing. I’m tired of finding the cute guy, then finding his wedding ring.
Everyone tells me, you stop looking, he’ll come to you.
It starts now.
I’m done seeking out toads, hoping they’ll turn out to be a prince. (I guess coming from AZ it’s only fitting I keep finding horny toads…) All I have to show for it are a collection of toads and a few warts.
Now mind you, if a prizing winning buck wanders up on my porch, I’m sure as hell going to hit him over the head and have me some venison. I’m retiring, not dead.
So, bear with me friends. I’m going to try my hardest and probably go through detox, but I am going to make it. I don’t define myself by my relationships. I haven’t for three years. I don’t know why I still try.
Afterall, shouldn’t I be the one who gets pursued? Isn’t that the way it should work? I am a good person and any guy would be lucky to have me. I shouldn’t have to try so hard.
And from now on, I won’t.
Except for Tom Brady. It’s always open season for him. (And maybe David Cook)