These are very candid outlets of my rants and raves about being single in Los Angeles. No censors and no blinders. I’m telling it like it is. Basically, the raw, stripped down honesty usually reserved for teenage diaries.
One day my girlfriends and I joked about having to audition for the Bachelor to find a good date these days. But, I’m not the type of girl who settles for sloppy fourths, thirds or even seconds. No, thank you. 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. So, nix that.
Now, the Bachelorette had the right idea. Having the men come to us. Brilliant. Though the national television thing is kind of off-putting.
And as we kept talking, something really began to take shape. We as a collective 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 is already quite intimidating on its own let alone in a city full of superficial, self-absorbed transplants who moved here thinking they were the sh*t in their small hometown and still trying to get away with that now. Ugh, the perils of living in LA. Egos. Too many of them.
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, don’t call after Thursday for that weekend’s date, texting versus calling, call him or wait for him to call, public date or private date, hair up or hair down. Yikes!
It can drive a girl crazy. Yet, after all that I still have a soft spot reserved for good ‘ole fashion romance. I always enjoy a good love story. Especially, if it were mine.