A Failure of Firsts

So, remember the brilliant idea I had about dedicating the next year to "extreme dating". What did I say the point was? Exploring my options? Getting out there? Enjoying myself? Well, whatever I told myself, I massively take it back because I just crawled into bed, in half a fetal position, stuffing my face with red velvet cupcakes and watching Barney with my two year old. 

It has been a rough week. 

I had three dates lined up last week, and calling them complete disasters would be way too kind. They were dates that made me long for my Ex-Husband. And only those who have met Le Ex-Husband can understand what a powerful statement that was. 

Date #1: The Cheap Guy from the Past

Japanese restaurant. He complained about work all night, complained about how expensive the restaurant was (it wasn't that expensive), complained about how boring life was, complained about how he never wanted to settle down and get married. 

I ate my sushi and counted the seconds. 

Date #2: The Stander-Upper

He stood me up. 

Date #3: The .... (I can't find a name proper enough to describe this one)

I've known him for a while and he's always been "off" in that dark mysterious way. I won't lie, I've fantasized once or twice about running off with him for a weekend full of passion and mystery. He never seemed fully "open" and that made him seem like that bad boy you've always wanted to tame. Unfortunately, everything I just said was way off from the truth. He was not a bad boy at all, just a closet gay guy (nothing against it), who wanted to pay me to join him and his random partners in bed. 

That imaginary weekend away quickly turned from passionate to freaky with a capital HOLY F*CK. 

....I wonder if it could get any worse in 2013?
.......Probably not. 


- Lots of Love...
- Lady D