A Dear John letter to 2009

Dear 2009 Dating Life,

It's not you, it's me.

Actually, check that.

It is you. What a crappy year you've been to me.

You were all about you, weren't you? First you brought me some major dating (and blog) dramz; then a boy who is pretty much everything I look for in a guy -- but who lives out of town; then a guy who couldn't form a sentence and one who couldn't form a memory; and just a general lack of activity on the dating front.

So, it's over. I don't want to hear from you again. Or see you again. Don't bother sending me letters or flowers or calling to try to win me back like some other ex-BFs have done.

I'm moving on to bigger and better. His name is 2010. And no matter what he's like, he'll never treat me as badly as you did.

So, see ya, 2009. And good riddance.

From here on out, it's all about 2010: The Year of Good Men.

xoxo (but not really) --

Always a Bridesmaid

P.S. I'm not really a bitter SOB, readers. You know that. I'm just REALLY looking forward to getting this year behind me. Thanks for coming along for the ride... and for keeping me sane in the process. Smooches to you! I hope we don't break up too. :) Happy new year!

No hottie under the tree...

... but I did get a pretty rocking set of new pots and pans.

(Since I've never had a wedding shower, I was in dire need of new cookware. The cheap stuff I had for my first apartment -- circa 1998 -- just wasn't cutting it anymore.)

Here's hoping the new Calphalon is an indication that my love life will start cookin' in 2010 too. :)

Was Santa good to you?

Working on my letter to St. Nick

Remember last year how blogmom and blogdad discovered that St. Nicholas is actually the patron saint of single women?

Well, apparently jolly old St. Nicholas isn't happy with telepathic requests. Guess he actually wants me to write an honest-to-goodness letter to Santa before he brings me my Prince Charming.

So, no bullshitting. I'm totes writing a letter to St. Nick this year and tucking it away in a safe place. Then I'm gonna pull it out next Christmas to see if he brought me something (or someone) that matches what's on my list.

Help me get started. What should I make sure I don't forget? I only have a few days to get this right...

Why Being Single at the Holidays Ain't a Bowl of Cherries

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about how being single at the holidays ain't all that bad.

Then I promised to write a follow-up about how it ain't so great, either.

But you know what? I'm not going to.

Because I'm already sorta quasi-depressed over being single YET AGAIN at the holidays. And if I write a post about it, it may just throw me over the edge into total Scroogedom.

Instead, I think I may just order myself one of these and hope it brings me a little elf of my own this Christmas. Eff you, Scrooge. (Actually, Scrooge McDuck.) I don't need your bad attitude rubbing off on me this year.

"This kid is really moving mountains!"

(Note: Above was an actual quote out of my sissy's mouth last nite.)

I've written here before about how blogmom is like a Cyber McGyver. Well, apparently the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

After telling my sissies about a boy who I was chatting with following the Browns' victory last week (shocking!), my middle sis was obsessed with finding out more about him.

(BTW, when I said "shocking," I was referring to both the Browns' win as well as the fact that a cute boy would actually talk to me while I was so bundled up for the game that I looked like the stay-puff marshmallow man.)

Anyhow, the only things I knew about him were:

• his first name


• what he did for a living (vaguely)


• that he was a good kisser (OK, so *maybe* I smooched him a little to celebrate the win -- so sue me!)

But, literally. That was ALL I KNEW. But within five minutes of cyberstalking (as I was in the other room holding my sweet little nugget nephew and watching The Sing Off), my sis had found him online. (And not by Googling "random boy who smooched my sis after the Browns game.")

I think sissy might really have a potential career in pre-screening guys for single girls. (Myself included.) Within mere minutes, she found:

• his last name


• where he works (which is when she said the quote that appears as the title of this post and told me he was gonna make a lot of money someday)


• pictures of him (to which she suggested he might want to consider teeth whitening and never growing a beard again)


• his profiles on social networks


• several articles he was featured in

I couldn't help but giggle at her research prowess. I mean, seriously. She only had his first name (which is very common) and a general idea of what he did for a living (which is admittedly less common -- but still) to go on. And she was soooooooooo excited when she found him.

(In fact, she was so excited that I didn't have the heart to tell her right away that I had his phone number and that we'd actually already talked.)

So it appears that sissy may have a potential new career... and that I may have a potential new target for Holidating!

P.S. Don't worry, blogdad. The Browns were the only ones who scored that nite. ;)

Another pseudo break-up

Remember when I broke up with my hairdresser several months ago?

I had another breakup this weekend. But this time I was the dumpee.

My manicurist left me. For that "other woman" known as college.

When we were saying goodbye, Anth gave me a big bear hug and said he'd miss me and would let me know when he's back in town. And I almost started crying.

(And it wasn't just because my jeans are all currently so tight that they're literally making me want to cry.)

In retrospect, I think the welling up was because Anthony has been the most consistent man in my life for the past several years.

(Is that sad or sweet? I still haven't decided.)

Every week when I'd see Anthony, he was excited to see me. He'd call me pet names. Tell me how pretty I looked. Compliment a new sweater. Ask about my family and friends. Write "I heart U” in lotion.

(And, no, I did not pay extra for that.)

But now he's gone. So I'm hoping the cosmos decides to do its thing and replace the one consistent guy in my life with another (but this time, one in the form of a boyfriend).

Are you listening, cosmos? I need a new guy in my life. Cuz mama's got really pretty hands just waiting to show off a ring someday soon.

Six degrees: take 3 (this week)

While out to lunch with a colleague this week, I ran into HGE.

(Living up to his name as Hottest Guy Ever, BTW.)

This whole six degrees thing is just getting a little ridic now, no? Is the universe trying to send me a message?

(I sure hope it's something like, "AAB, there's a hottie in your future!")

P.S. As it turns out, I knew one of the girls who was lunching with HGE. She called me this morning to find out if I knew what his story was because she and her friend couldn't figure out if he liked boys or girls. See?!?! It's not just me.

I TOLD you I'm not making this stuff up

My last post was about how small Cleveland is. And that it feels like it's only two or three degrees of separation between me and every eligible guy in the city.

That theory was proven again this week.

I was facilitating a meeting for a client. It was a session that included 10 employees out of the thousands employed by the company.

Of those thousands that were whittled down to 10, there was one guy scheduled to be in the meeting. I saw his name on the attendee list prior to the session and remarked to my colleague that I had gone on a date with a guy with that name years ago, and how random it would be if it were the same guy. But then I pointed out that the name was common enough that it probably wasn't the same guy.

The meeting started, and there was no guy to be seen. Phew. In the clear. But about five minutes later, the door opened and a very apologetic guy walked in late.

A very apologetic guy who I had gone on a date with.

Seriously. FML.

Do you believe me now about this whole six degrees of separation thing? What are the chances that the one guy -- out of the thousands who work there -- would be someone I had gone on a date with?

I really think I may need to move.

P.S. And, yes, I still have his number in my phone.

It's a small world after all

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Cleveland really is six degrees of separation. Case in point: I was at a holiday party this weekend and saw:

• A guy I went on one date with (I actually wrote about him here)


• A guy who was in the Sexy Singles article in Cleveland Magazine with me (of course, he's now married and I'm still a questionably sexy single)


• My boss' son (nothing romantic there -- just thought it was weird to see him)

I'm really starting to think I am like two or three degrees away from every person in Cleveland. Which I suppose also means I *may* be only two or three degrees away from all of the cute, eligible, single guys in Cleveland too.

Which also means that YOU probably know one of them. Ahem. What are you waiting for? Wouldn't a little finders' fee help with your holiday shopping right about now? Just sayin'.

I mean, it is time for some Holidating. (P.S. Thanks to everyone who contributed suggestions and/or voted to name this month's dating adventures!) Dontcha wanna put a little something under my tree?

An apple a day

Earlier this week, I got one of those mass text forwards that we've all come to love/hate. I usually curse the friends who send me those things because I'm superstitious that I will, indeed, lose an arm or never find love or whatever horrible thing they tell you will happen if you break the chain.

But in this case, I couldn't curse the friend who sent it because, well, it was from someone whose number I didn't have in my phone. (Sidebar: I did lose a bunch of numbers earlier this year during Blackberrygate '09, so I'm assuming I do know the sender. Unlike when I got this text.)

Anyhow, the message was just what this girl needed after a crappy day at work (and a crappy year in dating). Here's what it said:

Women are like the apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. The boys don't want to reach for the good ones, because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead they get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them when in reality they are amazing! They have to wait for the right guy to come along. The one who is brave enough to climb to the top of the tree!

The text then went on to tell me to forward it to 10 phenomenal women in my address book. But I figured I'd one up by posting it here instead. (Man, I hope more than 10 of you stop by today!)

So, if you're still single, never fear. The harvest is coming!

And if you're taken, congrats on finding your Johnny Appleseed.

And to whoever the anonymous sender of that text was in the first place... thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. You're a really good apple. :)

Why Being Single at the Holidays Doesn’t Totally Suck

• There's no pressure to find that perfect gift for my special someone. In the past, I would spend weeks (sometimes months) searching for juuuuuust the right present for my BF, only to be disappointed with an effing gift card for a day spa or -- even worse -- the free wallet that came with the purse that he bought for his mother. (Actually happened.)


• There's no need to worry about those extra lbs. I've already packed on from all the holiday goodies around my office, since my cats and relatives don't mind if I'm a little doughy right now (but a BF probably would).


• I don't have to hear, "Sooooooo... do you think you'll be getting a little box under the tree this year?" from EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. I. KNOW.


• There's no obligation to bust out horrific memories of holidays past. One year for Christmas, I got an effing Precious Moments necklace from The Mush Mouth. I lovingly referred to it as "The Medallion." It was a sterling silver heart -- yes, HEART -- with two little Precious Moments figures facing each other inside of it. It was literally the size of a hood ornament. And it was heinous. (In this case, I would have welcomed a gift card.) I felt obligated to pull it out each Christmas (though I never actually wore it), but after we broke up, I used to take it out with me to the bar and use it on my beer bottles like one of those little wine charms. Except it wasn't so little.


• I can decide where I want to go, and when. I don't have to split holidays between families, or traipse around all over Northeast Ohio without sitting down in one place for more than a couple of hours. Which means I can plant my (now pleasantly plump) ass down at my parents' house and get hammered. I mean, "holiday toasty."


• There's also no pressure to buy thoughtful presents for the BF's family. I mean, I don't think I could have found another bird broach for The Murse's grandma if I tried. I must have bought out the entire stock at Macy's every year.


• And let's not talk about the pressure to fake liking the presents that you got from his family. I mean, who doesn't need a holiday sweatshirt -- complete with puffy paint -- to round out her wardrobe? (I wish I were kidding. Actual Christmas present. Though still not as bad as the free wallet.)


• If you're only kinda sorta and/or newly dating someone (and not in a long-term relationship), there's also no pressure to have that awkward, "Are we exchanging gifts?" or "What's our spending limit?" conversation. Ugh. Those are so awwwww-kward!


• I don't have to stress about how/if he fits into my family's gatherings. Let's be honest: blogfamily can be a bit overwhelming at times. Between blogdad telling dirty jokes, blogmom having minor meltdowns if something goes wrong in the kitchen, fights with sissies over board games and Brissy yelling, "Merry Jizzmas!!" every two seconds, it takes a special kinda guy to feel comfortable around the AAB clan.

Now don't get me wrong. There are down sides to being single too, which I'll explore in a future post. (I'm sure I'll want to hang myself after I write that one.)

But for now... what are your favorite reasons to be single at the holidays?

P.S. Thanks to all of you who suggested names for this month's dating adventures. (You sick bastards, you.) Please be sure to vote for your fave in the poll on the top left of the page!