This is a very candid outlet of our rants and raves about being twenty/thirty something and single in Los Angeles. No censors and no blinders. We’re telling it like it is. Basically, the raw, stripped down honesty usually reserved for teenage diaries.
It all started when we joked about auditioning for the Bachelor to find a good guy. But, I’m not the type of girl who settles for sloppy fourths, thirds or even seconds. No way. I’ve got better things to do than to fight with 10 catty girls over some eh guy with a British accent. Plus, there’s only one of him and there are five of us. So, nix that.
Now, the Bachelorette had the right idea. Having the men come to us. Brilliant.
We create a webisode series to air on YouTube a la Lonely Girl-caliber production value. We post on Craiglists and around town that we are looking for good quality men to audition. We get the pick of the litter and we film our dates, good or bad, for posting purposes and garner a following with the identifying theme and find fame and fortune and take interviews with Oprah and the Today Show. Okay, so we got a little carried away.
But, as we kept talking and throwing out ideas, something really began to take shape. We as a collectively had a very identifiable voice. We’re just normal girls looking for normal guys to make some sort of a connection. We’re not gold-diggers, booty calls or trophy wives. We are our own individuals with our own goals and life’s ambitions looking for a few good men to get to know with the potential of it growing into something more.
Isn’t that what we’re all searching for?
Dating gets complicated out of the safety net of school. Dating in the real world alone is quite intimidating let alone in a city full of superficial, self-absorbed transplants who moved here thinking they were the shit in their small hometown and still trying to get away with that now. Wake up.
Then there are “The Rules” to “Why Men Love Bitches” to “Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus” and a million other self-help books on dating. We wait a week to call and don’t call after Thursday for that weekend’s date. There is the two-chances-you’re-out rule of thumb. Call, don’t call. Public date or private date. Hair up or hair down.
It can drive a girl crazy.
So, we’re here to test out these theories. Using our very own lives as the experiment for you all to learn from. Ready? Let’s go.