shenae.com

After five years of bitching, suffering through horrible dates, and using those awful internet dating sites, I had a boyfriend.  It was nice to date someone, get to know someone, actually go out to dinner and a have a conversation with someone.  And then he asked me to be his girlfriend. I was elated.  My friends freaked out, I couldn’t believe it, and we continued getting comfortable with each other.  I would see a couple and be thankful for being in a relationship. Morning sex turned into afternoon sex.  In fact, I replaced food with sex. Who does that? I did! We sent text messages or spoke to each other every day.  My apartment was a mess and my cats didn’t remember me.  And then I did something very bad: I cared about him too much. It took one conversation and we were done.  Now I’ve replaced sex with alcohol. My apartment is spotless. My cats are taking me for granted.  It’s been a few days and sometimes I regret what I said, maybe it was too soon, but I realize that the same outcome would happen whether it was 3 months, 6 months or a year in the future.  I just want to move to Spinsterland, start adopting cats and make my own mumus. I’m done. Over it. Seacrest out.

I’m glad I got through Valentine’s Day, aka V-Day, without stabbing someone.  This is the worst excuse to buy a card ever.  Can I feel anymore single than on that day?  What the fuck with the smug couples who do all this last minute planning?  When I was in a relationship, I had all my plans made a month ahead of time.  There was none of this calling restaurants on V-Day, or trying to schedule a massage the day before.  It’s unbelievable how lazy and stupid couples are, especially men.  I know that many people say every day should be Valentine’s Day.  That is not fucking true, otherwise ladies would be getting flowers, chocolate and some sort of jewelry every day.  Suck it up and make an effort to make the day special.  Or you could be like me: snuggle up with a bottle of wine after a long day at work.

I canceled all my dating website subscriptions.  Checking them on a regular basis only wasted my time.  The quality of candidates went downhill since I joined the first dating website back in 20–*cough cough*.  So now I’m doing the opposite. I’m embracing spinsterhood.  I do things like watch The View, contemplate purchasing a purse from a tv commercial that has over 50 pockets, and I’m already using public transportation.  All I need is a muumuu, some ill-fitting pantyhose and 16 more cats and I will be an old maid.

courtesy of oprah.com

I needed a few weeks to cool off after watching the Oprah show about couples in sex therapy.  That show just ruined me.  Actually, it was the married couples who made me sick.  Why get married if you are going to withhold sex?   Then the women complain about not feeling attractive or sexy.  I’m sorry, did you find one man who loved you enough to marry you and still want to have sex with you after you let yourself go?  Don’t blame the kids, the stress, or the pregnancies. You let yourself go.  It pisses me off that I’m a habitual single woman, with a body most women would pay good money for, yet I can’t get a date.  But when I find that special someone, I would try to make up for lost time.  I would do things like swing from a chandelier, have sex in an elevator and not leave the bedroom for an entire weekend.  These women made me physically sick because they don’t know how lucky they are, and again, take their relationships, their husbands, and that entire tray of brownies for granted.