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dating, first world problems, Uncategorized

I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit…It’s Dating Season!!!

“Ahh, Janice, I apologize to you if I don’t seem real eager to jump into a forced awkward intimate situation that people like to call dating. I don’t like the feeling. You’re sitting there you’re wondering “Do I have food on my face? Am I eating? Am I talking too much? Are they talking enough? Am I interested? I’m not really interested. Should I play like I’m interested? But I’m not that interested, but I think she might be interested. But do I want to be interested, but now she’s not interested, so now all of a sudden I’m getting–I’m started to get interested.” And when am I supposed to kiss her? Do I have to wait for the door ’cause then it’s awkward? It’s like, well, “Goodnight. Do you do like the ass-out hug? Where you like, you hug each other like this and the ass sticks out because you’re trying not to get too close or just go right in and kiss them on the lips or don’t kiss them at all?” It’s very difficult trying to read the situation. And all the while your just really want to know are we going to get hopped up enough to make some bad decisions. And perhaps play a little game called just the tip, just for a second, just to see how it feels, or “Ouch, ouch, you’re on my hair.” ~ Jeremy (Vince Vaughn), Wedding Crashers

Dear Universe,

Let’s have a chat cause frankly, you haven’t held up your end of the “ask and you shall receive bargain.” Yeah I said it.  Yes, I know I’m not a patient person; but would you be by now???  I’m fucking FORTY.  I have entered an entirely new decade of my life and now I get to experience it dating.  Really NOT WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT!!! And yes, I am mad at you. I saw the contrast, I heard we were getting down to the wire and I may have to decide between partner or kids.  I chose, over and over again when the topic came up with friends.  Like four years ago at the bar in Southie with my friend?  You heard me loud and clear. I chose and continue to choose the partner over kids. I even moved back to Philadelphia area 3 years ago to see my nieces and nephew grow up because I knew not having my own may be a possibility.  I have done everything necessary to prepare for the partner in my life. Somehow our wires must have gotten crossed though.  I will give you a couple examples.  Let’s play: Do You Recall?

Do you recall the jackass Cowboys fan lawyer you sent me last summer (gave him a pass because he was actually from Texas)? Yes, he seemed nice till somehow he freaked out on me and now every couple months I get a text from him or HIS FRIEND right around the same time, each one trying to one up the other with the came of “Who can convince her to fuck first?” Yes, it’s been almost a year now.  Can you move them along? I am really tired of getting the texts about every 3 months. I REALLY AM getting too old for this shit.

Do you recall Thanksgiving last year? We won’t even go into how you got my hopes up with someone who seemed legit but was just another man child. (Don’t worry kids, you WILL hear that story.)

Do you recall February 2017? It has a real shitty (and I mean shitty) ending. Even I couldn’t talk about that for a full 24 hours….it was that repulsive. (This is the most EPIC DATING STORY EVER, KIDS. I will have to release this post at night and warn you that no matter how much alcohol you have – YOU ARE GONNA NEED MORE.)

Do you recall April 2017, August 2017, February 2018 and just this passed weekend?  NOT COOL AT ALL UNIVERSE, NOT COOL. You know I have trust issues.  This exact situation is why and you played a BIG ROLE in that. Next time I open up for someone will probably be at my autopsy.

And so as I begin my 26th year of dating I want to make sure you exactly understand what I want because I’m too old for the bullshit, the drama, and anything less than a man being a fucking grown up. I’m over the ghosting and games.  This dating season you WILL:

CUT THE SHIT. Stop taunting me with asshats. I’m literally out of what very little amount of patience you gifted upon me. Yeah I know the best things in life are worth waiting for, but really how much longer can I wait?

SEND ME MEN WHO ARE MEN = GROWN UPS. People who say what they feel and be actually honest.  I know the pickings are slim, but I am just not going to waste my time on more of the same old bullshit. As you already know time on this earth is limited and I am not about to spend it with anymore fuckboys.

I HEARD ABOUT THE GUY IN A PANDA SUIT ON AN APP.  Don’t even think about it Universe.  Just, no.

Now, I have seen the crap coming my way the last couple months and I think my reaction to it speaks VOLUMES around what I want and what I am willing to tolerate. I recognize my part in this, but realize that we need to work together. And I am going to keep saying no until you send some quality my way.

Universe, now that we are on the same page, I feel confident this is going to be an awesome dating season. And if not? Well, I’ve still got a ton of stories to tell.  And I don’t doubt there are more in my future.  The Universe loves to test us and provide contrast to make sure before it delivers what we wholeheartedly have been praying for to make sure it gets it right and in divine timing.

Get ready kids, THE SAGA CONTINUES…

dating

Should Be, Letting Go, and Finding the Lesson

*Originally, I started this post with the intent of editing and publishing closer to my actual birthday. It’s more raw than prior posts and not really a dating story.  LIfe sometimes gets in the way of our plans. At 12:30 this morning I listened to something that confirmed, with almost identical words, portions of what I had written here mere hours ago. I broke down in glorious, happy, tears so heavy my body shuttered from appreciation. I have never been so certain of anything in my life than I am at this very moment.*

More times than you can ever imagine, and out of nowhere, life will knock you on your ass. It will humble you in ways you don’t see coming. With less than three months to go until my 40th birthday, I had been struggling to find my purpose and I knew it couldn’t be chasing the dangling carrot in Corporate America anymore. Cliche as it is, turning forty feels such a rite of passage or awakening. The industry I work in has become a space where a myriad of companies and people are trying to get their piece of the money to be made; and frankly, they don’t know what the fuck they are doing. As you have probably already read via many blogs, including this one, dating these days challenges our self-worth and mental health more than most care to admit. I no longer have the energy for the bullshit anymore. Does anyone have use for a retired, semi-professional online dater? Bueller, Bueller?

Chasing the carrot for motivation will no longer suffice. It never did; I just didn’t think what my intuition was telling me was possible for the last 10+ years. I’m an entrepreneur and maker at heart – always have been. And I could easily seek the advice of my world to tell me what they think I should do. However, “should be” isn’t really part of my vocabulary anymore. “Should be” is the idea of how our lives are supposed to be in our minds, shaped by our families, friends and society. “Should be” is what got me to the present and disenchanted with life. And I looked to find the lesson as I always do, but this time I was open to a new career or professional path. Finally, I awoke to what God/the Universe was trying to show me. The more I resisted the more loud I heard, “PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION: YOU. ARE. NOT. FOLLOWING. YOUR. HEART.”

If there is anything I have learned in the last almost forty (why am that old?) years – you cannot go wrong when following your heart. You will never regret it. Though challenging at times, when you follow your heart, everything changes, including you. It’s in these moments where your growth occurs, you follow your passion and you find out what you are really capable of. God/the Universe/life (whatever you believe in) only gives us what it already knows we can handle and it’s ALWAYS out of our comfort zone. Your growth will be necessary to accomplish the goal. I’m scared as fuck to be out there in a way I have never been. A vulnerability that I haven’t shared with any soul on the planet – not even my dog. And if you knew me, you’d know that’s a really big deal (you know, like Ron Burgundy). I’m not exactly a quiet or shy individual and my dog is the most important soul in the world to me. Logic is calling me a fraud. Experience is telling me logic is a distraction. That’s the thing about going with your gut, trusting your instincts and intuition. Sometimes the logical part of your brain says, “No fucking way. That’s crazy and ridiculous.” And then this is usually the part where you tell people WHAT you are feeling – they will usually agree with the logical side and kill your dreams before you can even start pursuing them. This is why I haven’t told a single soul. I don’t want to be talked out of my calling. I don’t want the noise and opinions of others to drown out my own intuition.

Brene Brown stated, “Midlife: when the Universe grabs your shoulders and tells you, ‘I’m not fucking around. Use the gifts you were given.'” Forty is coming at me like a MAC truck, and the idealist in me swears she’s still the sixteen year old who wants to change the world. The almost forty year old, at the very least, still craves making an impact. Each and every time in my life where I did not follow my instincts and intuition, when I asked and sought the opinions of others, it didn’t turn out so well. These days, I pray for the things money can’t buy – meaningful, honest, and genuine friendships and relationships and a purpose greater than myself. It requires unlimited patience and trust, skills of which are not my strengths. It’s allowing and letting the external voices be just that – external.  It involves allowing the thoughts as they come and observing them, but not necessarily reacting or responding to them.  It requires absolute faith I am on the right path. It demands I raise my standards and stretch my mental and emotional muscles by insisting I do that which I am called to do. Succeed or fail, I’m certain I will grow from it. It’s finding the courage to do what I am afraid to do as our gifts are often synonymous with our vulnerabilities. I have heard far too many stories of people telling their story and finding what they were supposed to do with their life by doing exactly what feared them the most.  See what the Universe did there?!

And so I’m letting go. I’m walking away from things not meant for me. I’m choosing absolute faith over the naysayers. I’m done trying to prove my worth to people and places who don’t believe I’m good enough. I’m moving past the days where I naively believe what people tell me to do and not following my own intuition. How could I have trusted other people to decide what is best for me OVER ME? Done with “should be.” I’m done with what others think and seeking outside validation. It’s not about other people. It’s about my relationship with myself – the only person with whom I am 100% guaranteed to spend the rest of my life. It’s me looking inward for the answers and trusting God/the Universe will reveal all in perfect timing. You think that’s kooky? That’s ok – it’s your opinion and you are entitled to it. I just don’t need or want to hear it anymore. It’s another distraction calling me away from purpose. This may sound harsh and bitchy, people may take offense, and those who feel that way truly need to look inward to understand why he/she feels this way. My life isn’t about you. It’s about me. Your life is about you. And what you translate from this post is about you and your perception, and something within you that demands your attention. And I don’t know about you, but I want to be ABSOLUTELY, WITHOUT A DOUBT, FUCKING CERTAIN that I used every opportunity, every heartbreak, every challenge that God/the Universe gifted me. Every experience holds a lesson. I want to be the most authentic and genuine version of myself. I want to know I showed up to this amazing, one time only offer called life, not just survived.

e.e. cummings once wrote, “To be nobody but yourself in a world that’s doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.” It has taken me almost forty years to truly understand that I am whole, worthy and complete as I am today and validation comes from within. I am 100% responsible for my life. I haven’t always made the right decisions or done the right things; and I am not claiming to be perfect. The challenges and circumstances I have faced in my life have shaped me into the person I am today and though I am not without flaws – there is no one I would rather be.

And my current situation? Well, you are just going to have to wait and see. The adventure begins NOW!

dating

Top Encounters With the Male Gender While Online Dating Last Week

Happy New Year!!! I apologize I haven’t provided you entertainment this year as of yet. I hope this post delivers.

Creepy guys are coming out of the woodwork like cockroaches. Fucktard Island is a permanent part of the US and even the aliens are ignoring us now. Don’t mistake the tone of this post – I enjoy sharing the crazy with you all. No idea why I think I’m still gonna find a husband though – my dog must be lacing my yogurt with crack?  Since I’m better at weeding out the guys and my patience is thinner than a piece of paper, I really haven’t had the time to extensively talk to guys I’m not interested in. However – I have compiled some of the most ridiculously heinous (and as always, BLOG-WORTHY) things that were said to me last week, in no particular order.

1. A guy looking old enough to be my grandfather contacted me and wants to get to know me better. I think they left out of his 60/40 training that you are supposed to have A LOT of money and not be completely appalling if you want to be a Sugar Daddy.

2. Three DIFFERENT guys, one ripped with an okay face, the second with a photo of HIS nipple as his profile picture and the third was smoking hot (TRAGIC), all messaged me and asked if I had pretty feet, if I painted my toes and what size they were. No, just NO. Gross.

3. Guy matches with me on bumble and when I reach out to say hello he informs me that he’s already talking to someone he likes on bumble that he enjoys. I cannot even explain to those of you who don’t online date why this is such a blatant lie because his swipe was the MATCHING swipe. It’s such a ridiculous lie in fact that I actually checked my OWN drivers license to make sure that I WAS. NOT. in fact. BORN. YESTERDAY. Just unmatch me – its cool. You only make yourself look like a moron for lying.

4. Another guy contacts me username is CREAM506, he’s easily 500 pounds, and tells me he would like to get to know my inside (nope – not my mind or my soul). Sorry if I made you throw up a little in your own mouth there, but you are just reading about it. Imagine what it feels like to be living it. *SHUTTERS*

5. Username Italicum72 contacts me:

ITALICUM72: Hello, my name is Xxxxx and I would like to make friendship with you. Would you like to meet for coffee?

ME: With a username like that? Absofuckinglutely not.

ITALICUM72: It means Italian in Latin.

ME: It means Italian Law in Latin.  I have google.

ITALICUM72: Read italiac.

ME: Even if it does why would you use that? Apparently you didn’t read my profile. I have no time for BS and someone with the right intentions would just use italian72. *BLOCK*

God, I’m such a bitch. Oh well, just add it to the list of reasons I’m currently going to hell. St. Peter’s running out of paper.  I hope he has at least a 256 GB iPad.

I said it once and I’ll say it again – the only man I’m gonna chase is the ice cream man.

 

dating

My Guide to Surviving the Holidays Single…AGAIN.

ME: GROAN.

This year the Grinch is my spirit animal.  I now understand his disgust for people.

Holiday time. Happy couples everywhere excited about exchanging presents, going to parties, cuddling, ice skating, and finalizing where they will kiss when the New Year strikes. For singles like myself, we are all too aware of what New Year’s Eve has in store.  I will be kissing my dog at midnight, in yoga pants or leggings, on my couch. Every year I think, “Next year will be different.” And yet for the past 8+ it hasn’t been.  In the meantime, here are the things I find help me get through the holiday season.

1. MEDITATION – Yes, I meditate. How do you think I’m still sane after 12+ years of online dating? Yes, I am aware that I am not sane. It’s MADNESS that a person as ADHD as myself would be able to meditate, but I do at least once a day. Sometimes I even do it twice or three times depending on my day. It’s the perfect excuse to do NOTHING. I’m sorry I can’t help you right now, I’m meditating in order to ward off the mental breakdown I so desperately deserve. Ask someone else before I punch you in the gut.

2. EXERCISE – Speaking of punching people in the gut, taking my aggression out with exercise always puts me in a better mood. What would REALLY help is if I could kick some of these condescending jerks I came in contact with this year right in their balls; but NO ONE has that kind of time, so exercising will have to suffice. Since it’s now freezing in the Northeast, I have been using on demand, exercise apps, and yoga decks to avoid leaving my home. You can also dance around your living room or consider using your vibrator as exercise. If couples can count sex as exercise, we can count our vibrators. AMIRIGHT?!

christmas

3. SELF-CARE – There are a bunch of ways you can do this.  Sometimes it’s just nice to take a break from the holidays, put on a movie and (GASP!) turn off your cell or tablet. Highly therapeutic. I also enjoy far too many Hallmark Channel movies (Why haven’t I bumped into any hot guys at the coffee shop or local diner who have been secretly been in love with me for years?), ELF (Even a full grown man dressed as an Elf can get a relationship and I can’t.), and some of the classics I remember as a kid that make me laugh (and cry). Other ways include writing in a journal, hot bath, or a good book. However, the last two suggestions are by far what I will be doing this holiday season.

4. CHOCOLATE – The month of December does something to my appetite.  Not sure if it’s the cold air or the early snowfall this year, but all I want to do is eat brownies and cookies like it’s my DAMN JOB. I don’t even like bread that much and when I went to Wegmans Friday night, I bought 5 different types of bread/bagels/naan. Buddy the Elf has inhabited my body and I can’t stop myself.  Thankfully I don’t want to put maple syrup on my spaghetti – yet. And I CANNOT stop baking – brownies, peanut butter bars, cupcakes, cookie bars – I made them all in the last 3 days. Dare I say there’s a bonus to being single?! Don’t get too excited; it’s also a curse. It appears no one is going to see me naked any time soon so I can eat (and drink) what I want.

5. ALCOHOL. THE BEST OF ALL THE HOLIDAY SURVIVAL NECESSITIES. Nothing helps me self medicate more than a nice glass (read: bottle) of wine. Takes the edge off the stress of the holiday season AND helps me ignore that my 40th birthday is hovering  in LESS THAN 5 MONTHS. I don’t have a single prospect – not even a text buddy.  It’s almost mandatory to have it readily available 100% of the time especially when you are hanging out with relatives who ask you questions about your life that you don’t want to answer. You know the probing questions: “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? What are you doing with your life? What’s going on with your career? Maybe if you lost weight you would meet someone. I bet the Pats don’t win the Super Bowl. Tom Brady just doesn’t look as good as he used to….blah blah blah.” In the words of Robin from How I Met Your Mother – “NOBODY ASKED YOU, PATRICE.” You could make your own drinking game that you play with yourself. With the dating pool as it is, the one thing you can bet on is being alone – for ETERNITY.

Disclaimer: I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or even a journalist.  Your participation in any and/or all of the above events is at your own discretion.  Do not drink and drive.  I will not be held responsible for the ten pounds you gain eating all the chocolate and drinking all the booze for the rest of December. Don’t use electronics while in the bath/shower. Please don’t run around kicking guys in the balls for exercise (unless they deserve it), but call me so I can assist.  You can do anything you want, but this does not mean that you are free the consequences of said decisions.

Here’s to surviving the holidays single – again. Cheers!

 

dating, first world problems

Where’s Ashton?!

In this weeks edition of why reading my blog will make you feel better about your own life – a classic story of girl “meets” fuckboy.

I started talking to this guy who seems nice enough on a Monday after work on Plenty of Fucktards – Fish – I mean Fish. Divorced, has two sons and works in Philly and lives in South NJ. He’s was asking questions and seems like an upstanding citizen – that’s all I can really ask for these days. At least I’m not driving the entire conversation. And as soon as I think this one is possibly dateable – he veered the conversation into “I’m definitely a fuckboy.”

Why is it guys always have to ask about sex before we even have a date with them? Now I’m not a prude, but we haven’t even had a mere telephone call and he was asking about my sexual needs and fantasies. I’m pretty damn sure back in the days prior to online dating and text messaging were available, guys I barely knew did not have THE BALLS to ask me these types of questions.  Guys I dated for YEARS didn’t ask me these types of questions. Since he brought up sex in less than 24 hours of contact, I did what any rational female would – I deemed him a fuckboy and declared him DOA around 8:30 PM on Tuesday night. As usual, I try to steer the conversation in another direction; but for some reason (BLOG), I decided to appease him and answered the questions – some honest, some purely for my own amusement. If only I could have been a fly on the wall.

According to him he had four females at once when he was younger, a devil’s threesome and one same sex experience. Doesn’t phase me because with all the fuckboys that have told me about their sex lives I have heard some crazy stories (not that I believe them all). Don’t know if I believe 4 chics at once, but who cares? He’s a fuckboy trolling for sex and I’m not going to meet him anyway.

The next day was more interesting/entertaining. I don’t know what it is about me that makes people tell me their most private details and intimate secrets (could be the chubby, cheery cheeks on my face), but they do. However, this is the first guy who has ever admitted anything like this to me. At first I thought he made a joke, and I played along. And then a picture message comes through on my cell. Me: An unsolicited dick pic? GROAN. And then I open it.

img_4441

Just in case I lost you for a minute – THAT ISN’T MY PANTY DRAWER. First, I don’t think I own that many pairs. Second, everyone who knows me knows I am NOT ORGANIZED. If my laundry gets folded AND put away it’s a cold AF day in Hell.

And so the question still remains – how do these guys find me? Furthermore – is this a blessing (BLOG – obvi) or a curse (can I meet someone already)?

FOR THE RECORD (and before you say people trust me with their most intimate details) – I wouldn’t have shared this story if we had ended up in a committed relationship with this man. Please note I have given no indication of his name or profession. I never even met the fuckboy, because he GHOSTED on me (and again – BLOG). Maybe he was embarrassed about admitting his bisexuality or sending just how many bras (right hand side of the photo in case you missed them), women’s panties and anal toys (only two?) he had collected. I can’t tell you why these fuckboys disappear – they just do. And sometimes they give me the juiciest details before they go….*wicked laughter*

Do you know what I would REALLY like to know?

Exactly how long is Ashton waiting to get out of the van and tell me that my dating life has been a recurring series on Punk’d 2.0?

I hope it’s soon; but I have a feeling he’s waiting for my meltdown.  It won’t be much longer.

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dating, first world problems

Three’s (Usually) a Crowd

Last week was madness. Due to the holidays, lots of people are contacting me on the dating sites. Holiday time is stressful AF when you are single and it can get lonely without your own squad to do cheesy, fun, festive holiday things.  I always get a ton of questions (from random people I barely know), who were invited to the same Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.  It usually happens like this (this is what I hear anyway) – “Hey Jen, I haven’t seen you all year.  Let me ask you all the questions about your personal life that keep you up at night. Let me make that midlife crisis grow.”

It’s not unusual during this time of year for the traffic on dating sites to increase. However, the message I received last Tuesday on Plenty of Fish was anything but a standard message. You’re intrigued now, aren’t you? You are wondering what it was and if I have the screenshot to share. OF COURSE I DO KIDS!  No one would believe these ventures if I didn’t have some form of evidence.

image1

Seriously?! Aren’t there sites specifically for this type of thing? Do I have something written on my forehead that only horny dudes can see? Unlike most people, I can’t just ignore the message due to my lack of interest. That wouldn’t be amusing. And if I have to keep online dating then I should at least have SOME fun, even if it isn’t the type I had in mind.  Right? “HELLS YES,” I hear you all agree. Obviously, if you know me or have read any of my other posts you already know what comes next. Nope, it’s not a MFM threesome – I’m gonna poke the bear.

I then proceeded to type the dirtiest sexts I could, with the best key words I know get 99.9% of guys EVERY. DAMN. TIME. I know this because the guys I am friends with are traitors to their gender (THANK YOU).  Guys are so naive when it comes to sex. They totally bought that I was completely into them tag teaming me and that I would meet them on Wednesday night.  And right when I knew I had them all worked up and ready I sent a text which read, “I think the real question here is, boys, can you handle me?” And then, like magic, I disappeared. Commence evil genius laugh.

And so the adventures on Fucktard Island continue…..never a dull day in online dating.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT (for guys on dating sites):  Never trust a girl with a dirty mind, she probably has a blog you don’t know about and you may be the next feature story. (More evil genius laughing.)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!! (Well, except those two douches)

 

Information on this website may be copied for personal use only. No part of this website may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the author. Requests to the author and publisher for permission should be addressed to the following email: inlovingmemoryofmysanity@gmail.com.

This blog does not share personal information about blog visitors with any third parties. We do not collect information about your visit to this blog for any purposes other than analysis of content performance through the use of “cookies.” You can turn off the use of cookies any time in your browser’s setting. This policy is subject to change without notice.

 

 

dating, first world problems

So, I’m Dating a Porn Star…

Cuffing season is here, and my online dating is back in full force. I have been on Plenty of Fish for about a month. I actually deleted my profile and then went back (apparently, I like torturing myself). Plenty of Fish is free and I’m just not going to pay to date these jerks anymore. The universe already owes me years of my life back from dating. And quite honestly, this blog isn’t going to write itself….OR IS IT?!

Yesterday, I get an email from a guy who has just moved here from Miami.  Of course I asked him why he moved here, because it’s an easy way to get some of these guys talking.  I’m sure all you ladies have had that experience where you feel like you are pulling teeth to have a conversation?  Yeah, I was; so I asked. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse ladies, but this shit just writes itself.  Right here in black and white:

star

Hey buddy, its definitely NOT a no go.  I have a blog I’m trying to write and this is just perfect for the next post.

Then he sends me a video of him.  He says it’s very hardcore. It wasn’t and yes, I poked the bear and told him. OF COURSE YOU CAN’T SEE ANY OF HIM BUT ONE PART – yes, THAT part. It’s a POV piece where you only see the girl. He explains he must not have his face in porn so that he can have a “real” job.  I try to get him to talk about something else because he’s boring AF.  Not sure if any of what he is saying is true, but I can’t help but think porn is the only way this guy ever gets laid with this personality. A guy friend of mine is enabling me to meet up with him (of course I will – I only have what’s left of my youth to lose).  He says I should meet him for drinks since he asked.  I went back into my emails this morning to see when he wanted to grab these drinks so I would have more to tell you all.

And….he’s vanished (SHOCKER!), much like my (and every other single woman in America’s) hopes and dreams of ever meeting someone….

jump rope

 

Information on this website may be copied for personal use only. No part of this website may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the author. Requests to the author and publisher for permission should be addressed to the following email: inlovingmemoryofmysanity@gmail.com.

This blog does not share personal information about blog visitors with any third parties. We do not collect information about your visit to this blog for any purposes other than analysis of content performance through the use of “cookies.” You can turn off the use of cookies any time in your browser’s setting. This policy is subject to change without notice.