Well, hello.
If you've come across this blog, it's either because you are in the same downward spiral of loneliness and despair as I am, or you are just a curiosity seeker, marveled by apparently the last 100% completely single New Yorker.
Now, I know I'm not the only single girl in the god forsaken city, but I usually feel like I do.
Yes, I admit I'm pathetic. I'm the girl who's entire of posse of girlfriends are all hooked up with dudes. I'm the girl that goes on a date about 1-2 times a year, 9 times out of 10 it's a blind date set up by a sympathetic friend or relative. And I'm the girl who guys find funny but not the girl giving them that spark. Whatever that is. I'm starting to think that when a guy says he doesn't feel this elusive "spark," well, he basically doesn't want to bone you. Fair enough.
I have lived in New York for almost three years, and I am a 25 year old girl just trying to survive here. I have been unlucky in love for most of my life. I am the female Baxter. The girl that can't seem to get past date two because she is too quirky or independent or needy or drunk or shy or loud....you get the picture. Oh, and apparently I have two sides to my personality; the real me and the "date me." Real me is funny, silly, artsy, kooky, free-spirited, reserved and laid back. The date me however is not so great; neurotic, cold, sarcastic, absent minded, tempermental, insecure, and shy.
So maybe you see why I have chronic single-itis. I scare the men folk away. Maybe I like to pose a different kind of challenge to men. Oh they say, let the man chase you because if you are too easy then, voosh, he will disappear faster than Victoria Beckham's waistline. Well I say phatooey on that! They can have me if they want me, but they need to get past my icy gaze, my awkwardly crossed arms, and my acerbic wit.
Good luck to the fool that would want to get tangled up with that kind of girl.
