Drive-by Dating

Remember this heartwarming post?  http://effandotherwords.blogspot.com/2011/09/uhi-think-i-have-boyfriend.html

It regaled my newfound relationship and the corresponding abs that went with it.  I even felt compelled to email the dating service who failed me (albeit without my solicitation) in finding a dream man. 

Well…

Uh, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. 

No one is probably shocked by the news, least of all the dating service, who I emailed a short time ago with the following email:



Dear Dating Service I am so sorry for offending,

It’s been about a month.  That’s how long it takes me to apparently drive a relationship into the ground. (Yes, I’m single now.) Not that it’s your fault, but if you HAD found me the man of my dreams, I wouldn’t be in this situation.  My previous claims and requests still stand. however.  So please keep that in mind and remember that I’m nice.  Well, I’m actually not nice, but I’m honest.  To that end… I realized in my haste that I’d neglected a critical component.  I had not given you insight into the other half of the equation. So, this time I’ll tell you more about ME.  I think that was the missing link.

1. I drive like a stunt driver.  But not a real one that’s been trained.. like one that I imagine would be like in my head.  That involves high speed coffee drinking and knee steering through the burbs.
2. I tell the same stories over and over and over.  It’s dumb and while I can remember things I learned in 7th grade science class, I cannot remember that I’ve told the same story 12 times in two days. 
3. I laugh like a hyena.  That’s not cute.  In fact, I’ve startled people with it and made babies cry.
4.  I snore sometimes.  And not adorable little snorts, but full blown snoring likened only to a fog horn.  I can’t hide from that one. 
5. I swear at children’s soccer games.  I can’t help it.  I think that it build character.
6. I write things down on Post-It notes and then immediately lose them.
7. I both car dance and car sing.  Pulling up next to me is like a Motley Crue concert, with fewer tats and heroine addictions.
8. I can juggle.  True story.  Not like, chainsaws, but I can totally toss around beanbags and grapefruits.
9. I have ten toes but seven toenails.  Don’t ask. 
10. I believe that songs (even those written before my birth) were written for me to hear and I constantly and lovingly refer to them as “my jams.” 

I’m not sure where that ranks in your compatibility scale, but it’s fairly detailed and highly accurate.  Once again, my apologies for all the smack talk… it must be all the red wine. I am sorry I assumed I could find and then maintain an adult relationship all by myself.  Shame, shame.  Lesson learned.  See: White flag waving.
Sincerely,
Carrie