I miss drunk texting already

I realize I'm completely neglecting this damn blog. I think Facebook is the culprit honestly. I do intend to inform the world (of my blog readers) about the 5 dates I've currently attended but for now, how about we chronicle my week-long alcohol cleanse? Day 1 of the alcohol cleanse is not going well. A lovely couple in a canoe rowed up to me and offered me two cold PBRs which I excitedly accepted and remembered on my first swig. I spit it out. Really, I did. Now I'm off to a Capitol Hill party. At a bar. And Case is in town for the whole week and I'm not sure we've ever been sober together. Good luck, me.

Bachelorette or Spinster?

Ok! It's done. My dates have gone digital. Whether inspired by the abrupt yet necessary departure of a pure and true narcissistic sociopath douchebag (one I should have jettisoned long ago; not to suggest there are others like this I should not jettison); the excited recommendation of more than a few friends; the fact that I'm not even in the Austenian age range of spinster anymore, I'm far past the expiration date; multiple viewings of The Bachelorette; or sheer boredom--whatever the catalyst, I have charged head-first into online dating.

Profiles are up. I decided to utilize my crack multi-tasking skills to cast a wide net and signed up with both Match.com (so yesterday, but I am too, a little) and OkCupid (the free dating site which is populated with exactly the type of guy you'd imagine are using a free dating site--think username PillowTalk3000). My friend cannot understand why I would do this and I cannot understand why she wouldn't. Why buy one lottery ticket when your odds exponentially increase by buying 10? Ok, maybe not exponentially but at least minuscule...ly.

I should apologize in advance to a few friends who had the misfortune of being in what is a very small pool of good photos of me. If I knew how to crop you'd have been spared but (thanks mom's cliches!) the ends justify the means. So shout out apologies to those of you accompanying me on my journey to a fairy tale of true love. I'll let you know if you get any winks or pokes or rams. There's bound to be some doozies in between which gave me the idea of logging it here so I can keep my friends up to speed and not drunk email/text/dial them after every sitcom-like experience.

How did I get here? I have a good job, which I think about quitting daily. I'm fairly smart, witty, funny (after all I single-handedly came up with the name of our book club, Open Books Group of Young Northwesterners and it makes me giggle every time I see it), and I don't think I'm all together that unfortunate looking so what gives? Why do I not only attract but am only attracted to the the smarmy and poisonous pests rather than ladybugs and butterflies? What lesson am I trying to learn and thus keep repeating like a fourth-run sophomore named Biff? Eh, who knows. I have flaws. I have a huge prominent nose that turns red anytime my equilibrium is 0.00001% altered--drunk, scared, nervous, embarrassed, exercised, awake, boom. Rudolph. And it's probably true that I start a few too many sentences with "my therapist says." And maybe it's possible that I have on rare occasions tipped back a few too many and threw up in less than ideal locations--a cab, the Yakima river, my bathroom sink. But seriously, who hasn't?

I clearly have been doing something wrong and somehow I get the feeling that this latest idea may be adding to the pile but--what's that saying? A million Chinese people can't be wrong? I'm sick and tired of hearing of all the relationships, engagements, and marriages born from this new standard of dating so why not give it a go? Welcome to my own personal dating hell!