My dear friend, Christine, is officially engaged! Just a year ago, we were livin’ la vida loca in Cabo, and now she’s got a baby and a fiancé! Time moves so quickly around here. It seems like only yesterday, Christine, Jessie and I were at Blind Lady talking about the crapshoot that was the three of us, and now I’m the last one standing! The only time I’ve ever felt bad about being single is when I got into a car accident this year and had to be rescued by someone else’s husband. I was standing there at the auto shop watching them lift my car up, and my best friend’s husband was there talking to the mechanic for me, and my heart sank. Partly because they told me how much it would cost to fix my alignment, but mostly because I forgot how nice it was to have someone there to help me.
The few single friends that I have are serial daters. Tinder, Bumble, OK Cupid… If there’s an app for it, they’re on it. And although I pretty much pioneered online dating 20 years ago with my first AOL boyfriend (LoL), I would still prefer to meet someone IRL. Even though most of the guys I meet in real life are assholes. My problem is that I like assholes. If Christine and that rock on her finger taught me anything, it’s that you don’t always end up with the kind of guy you’re used to being with. I definitely have a type. If they’re bearded, witty and/or an asshole, all the boxes are checked. Maybe if I go for a nice guy with a babyface who tells mediocre jokes, the outcome will be different. I guess I’ll never know since the guys my friends want to set me up with have girlfriends already! Ha.