1:38 pm - August 05, 2004
That'll do, Pig.
So. After much introspection and thought, I've realized that the universe really is sending me blatant messages. Yup. Lil' ole me.
Lately, I've been thinking that it's been a significant amount of time since my last date. I'd like to have another one. With someone interesting, humorous, and the shallow part of me requests, preferably, cute. I've been keeping an eye out for the past few weeks, looking at people, looking for anyone who shows signs of not being brain-dead or lobotomized.
Unsuccessfully.
Which is not to say that I haven't overlooked some who are, I'm sure, very nice people. Not everyone I've laid eyes on or conversed with could have been an intellectual Quasimodo.
(NOTE: I gave up on this quest this weekend when I actually had a conversation that mirrored the one in the movie "The Sweetest Thing." Unfortunately, it was ironic on my part, but not on his.)
But then fate sent me a message. Several of them. In the forms of various friends of mine who have moved into relationship hell/aka, messy, painful, Jerry-Springer-esque breakups. Some that have involved the po-leece. And ex-wives. Are you getting the drift yet?
So, I have cheerfully shucked my yearning-for-soulmate desires and replaced it with the familiar set-land-speed-records-running-from-anyone-who-mentions-the-"R"-word desire. Besides. I have the greatest friends in the world who, inexplicably, love me. I figure that sets me ahead in the game.
�
�
