When it rains, it pours

Holy crap, readers! In the short span of a month, I have gone from writing a letter to St. Nick asking him to bring me a guy to having many potential suitors pop up.

(That's what she said.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dumb enough to believe that these guys are all the perfect future Mr. Always a Bridesmaid. In fact, they're all at varying levels of discussions and/or interest. But here's a sampling of who's been blowing up my little old blackberry over the past few weeks:

• The Hottest Guy Ever (HGE) has resurfaced (after weeks of being MIA). Of course, via text. We're maybe supposed to have drinks next week, though I've heard that one before with that guy.
  
• Blogdad gave my number to some guy he sees in the field a lot. I know this is foolish, but this kid's name makes me giggle every time I hear/read it. I, apparently, have the maturity level of a 5th grader sometimes. But, this guy sounds like he could be a good match -- at least, on paper.
  
• A blog reader emailed me to fix me up with a friend of hers. (Confession: I decided to meet the reader in person to a.) make sure she wasn't a loony toon and b.) make the potential fix-up less creepy if I did like/trust her. A bonus? Even if this thing doesn't work with her friend, I actually very much like her!!) So I've actually talked to this boy (an actual conversation -- not just stupid teenage texting!) and have plans to get together with him soon. And since we've actually chatted, I think he sounds pretty good both on paper and in person! Definitely at the top of my list right now.
  
• Blogaunt had conspired with a neighbor of hers -- over the SUMMER -- to attempt to fix me up with the neighbor's nephew. It was so long ago, in fact, that both blogaunt and I had forgotten she'd done that until this guy randomly emailed me this week. I've heard of the "3-day rule," but never the "5-month rule" of waiting to call. Random!
  
• While out to dinner with a friend last week, we both developed crushes on our waiter. Lucky for me, she is married, so I got dibs. We joked (slashed flirted with) with him all nite, and while I was in the ladies' room, the waiter apparently asked my friend about me. They agreed that he should slip his phone number in with the bill when he brought it to the table. Which he did. So I called, and now we're playing phone tag (both voicemail and text). This one is really sort of a stretch for me (he seems both young and pretty immature), but he is sooooo cute that I might have to look past that.
  
• Several months ago, I met a guy who is mutual friends with one of my girlies. He asked her for my number, and we've chatted/emailed/texted occasionally since. And juuuuust when I think he's fallen off the face of the earth, I get a simple random, "Hi, Always a Bridesmaid!" text.
  

I mention all of this because, in the past two days, I have heard from EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. of these guys. (After going literally months with nothing.) Which is all random and crazy and fun and overwhelming at once.

But my philosophy is this: Dating is a numbers game. And you've gotta hang with a lot of frogs before you find your price. But it only takes one to be... well... the one. So, I'm not going to immediately rule out any of these guys (though some are certainly early faves). But I'm also not going to write a lot about them until I have a better sense of where things are (or aren't) progressing with them.

(Just a weird karma thing I'm feeling, peeps. Don't judge!)

Wish me luck, and please bear with the potential lack of updates as I sort through all of this beefcake!

Jump Back! What a Deal!

So apparently the fine folks over at PlayhouseSquare read my little ol' blog and know that I'm planning to go to Jump Back Ball this year to have fun and *potentially* even meet the Mr. Future Always a Bridesmaid.

(Hey, stranger things have happened! I know of at least two couples who met at the event in years past -- one of which is getting married this summer!)

What does that mean for all of you? Well, if you go to this link to buy tickets before 11am on Tuesday, February 2, you'll get a special rate. (YES! Just for reading this blog!) Just enter the code DRESS and voila! Cheaper tix for my lovely readers.

($135, to be exact. Regular pricing goes up to $150 on February 1.)

Now, time for me to go shopping for a dress and shoes... or perhaps even some glass slippers... ;)

Will I see you there?

Opinions are like a**holes

I've been blogging long enough to know that every once in a while, some random faceless reader will attempt to "get" you by posting a mean or demeaning comment.

(Or even worse... attempting to sabotage your dating life!)

So I wasn't all that surprised when I approved a comment from a reader over the weekend (on this post) that said:

Speaking of bat shit crazy... has it occured to you
that maybe it IS you?

Actually, Anonymous, no. That thought has never occurred to me. (And, also, "occurred" has two r's, FYI.)

Because I'm not. Just because a girl has bad luck in the love department does not mean she is crazy.

I mean, everyone is certainly entitled to his/her opinion about me. (My opinion is that I'm faaahbuuulous!) And I realize that by putting myself out there with this blog, I'm opening myself up to those criticisms.

And of course I've questioned decisions or situations about my dating life over the past couple of years. (Why did I even go out with that guy? Why didn't it work out with that other one? How did she end up with him?) I mean, what single girl hasn't wondered about such things?

But no matter how much I question those things, I'm also secure enough to know that I am NOWHERE NEAR batshit crazy.

And I would venture to say that anyone who knows me IRL would corroborate that I am, indeed, a fully functioning, totally normal young professional woman... who just happens to still be single.

(Though if you do know me in real life, please do comment on this post and let me know if you think I AM batshit crazy. Maybe I'm just totally unaware?!?)

So, Anon, I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sure you thought you were really going to hurt my feelings or send me into some deep spiral of depression by posting your little dig. And you're certainly entitled to your opinion.

But I'm here to tell you that just because a girl has had a hard time finding her Prince Charming doesn't mean that there's something wrong with her.

(And if you're a single gal reading this, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Unless you are, indeed, batshit crazy. In which case, please forget everything I just said. HA!)

And anyway... who posts nasty blog comments at 1am on weekend? Someone with a *really* rocking love life themselves, I'm sure.

Do you know me IRL? Am I batshit crazy and just totally in denial!?!?

Sweet dreams are made of this...

... who am I to disagree?

(Sorry if you have that song stuck in your head now.)

I have now had dreams for three nights in a row about being married and/or getting married.

In the first two, there was a specific husband involved. The same guy. A guy who I used to hang out with, but who I never technically called my boyfriend.

Three nites ago, I dreamt I was at my house (which isn't the condo I live in now, that's for sure -- let's HOPE I live in a house that nice someday). But I digress. I was in my house watching TV with blogmom because my husband (the guy I never technically called my BF) was some TV star and we were watching him on his big primetime show debut.

Two nites ago, I dreamt I was at my house (again, a giant house, though I'm not sure if it was the one from the nite) with my husband (again, same said former flame). I won't go into too much detail on this one (hey, blogdad is reading!), but suffice to say a phone call came and distracted us at a very inopportune time.

(BTW, the "phone call" was really my alarm going off.)

Last nite, I dreamt I was getting married. I was in the back of church with blogdad getting ready to walk down the aisle. (Sidenote: I was happy to see that in my dream, I had lost about 10-15 pounds for my big day.) This time, there was no groom to be seen, so I really don't know who I was marrying. But at least I looked hot! :)

Anyhow, what do you suppose all this dreaming of husbands and weddings means? Inquiring (sleeping) minds want to know.

P.S. I still talk to and am friends with my dream husband (wow -- that sounds weird) IRL.

A few dating rules

Dear Boys,

Hi, how are you? Judging by some recent interactions I've had with you lately, I'd say you might need a refresher on basic dating etiquette. Some suggestions:

• Don't ask me if I want to grab a bite to eat since you're going to be near my office, then email to say it turns out you won't be able to make it. (And please don't do it only a couple of hours beforehand. And don't offer at all if you don't really mean it.)
• Don't do the scenario above on several occasions. (But at least those past disappointments prepped me for this latest one.)
• Don't only text me when you're drunk. (Though I do appreciate the fact that you don't use queer teenager texting shorthand.)
• Don't worry more about whether your leather shoes are getting ruined by the snow than whether I'm about to bite it in the Cleveland wintry sludge.
• Don't just keep saying, "Hope to see you soon." If you want to see me, why wouldn't you ask? (For the record, readers, I totes would have asked this guy to meet up if I were interested in seeing him. Don't worry. I'm not waiting around for boys to ask me out if I see some potential there.)

So, as you can probably guess, Manuary is off to a less-than-stellar start. But, it's only about half over. So I guess it can only get better from here!

Have you had any disappointing boy interactions lately? Please tell me I'm not alone! :)

Love via DNA

No, not that kind of Monica-Lewinsky-blue-dress DNA, you pervs.

I mean, for realz DNA. The kind that makes you... well... YOU.

I just read about some new dating sites that take swabs of your DNA to match you to other singles in their database in the hope of finding your scientific best match.

It all sounds so romantic, doesn't it? (Seriously. Go take a gander at that article.)

Eeeew. No, thanks.

I'd rather skip over that genes approach and go more for the traditional "jeans" one. (You know. The "how does his tush look in jeans?" test.)

What do you think? Would you use a little white cotton swab in the hopes it'd lead to a big white silk dress?

QOTD

As you can imagine, I hear my fair share of hilarious quotes about dating from friends/family/complete strangers who I ask to fix me up.

So I thought it only fair that I start sharing them with you.

Enter a new 27 Dresses feature: Quote of the Day. (Just don't go expecting something funny every day. I'll post 'em as I hear 'em.)

Today's gem comes from a good college friend and fellow bachelorette:

If Kate Gosselin ends up dating someone before
me... I will give up.

(At which point we both acknowledged that she is looking awfully sassy with those new hair extensions.)

Ha ha! Couldn't have said it better myself. :)

P.S. Thanks for all the suggestions to name this month's dating adventures. Since more than one of you suggested it, Manuary it is! Have a good weekend, peeps!

What a douchealouche

Why would a guy send you a drink (a Cosmopolitan -- barf!), give you his card (pointing out his cell number on it) and ask you to hang out (and not just to watch a Cavs game, if you catch my drift)... if he's married?

Because he's a douche.

Which apparently makes me a douche magnet. (I obvs didn't know he was married when I was talking to him. No home wrecker here, peeps.)

Let's hope he was the first -- and last -- of the 2010 dbags.

(OK, you can stop laughing now.)

(Sidenote: To spare everyone, I chose not to Google "douche" and post it as an accompanying image to this post. You're welcome.)

Anyhoooo... a reader recently asked about the name for January's dating adventures. Suggestions? (Added inspiration: This is my birthday month.)

Have at it!

Crazy (literally) for love

Hi, everyone! Hope this finds your year off to a roaring start!

(And sorry I've been sort of MIA lately. Been having some computer issues. Which sort of made my love life issues pale in comparison, if you can believe it.)

Anyhooo... everything's been pretty much SSDD over in these parts. That is, until the premiere of The Bachelor last nite.

What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong. With. Those. Girls.

I'll be the first to admit that I haven't religiously watched this show in recent seasons, but I certainly don't remember the bachelorettes being as ridic as they were last nite.

Seriously, if I ever get down on myself again for being single, please remind me that at least I'm not as batshit crazy as most of those chics. For realz.

Telling the bachelor (a pilot) that he could land his plane on your landing strip?!?!?

Grabbing his arms and asking if he had a permit for those guns?!?!?

Bringing a basket of "parting gifts" for the other girls?!?!?

Whoa. If TV were smell-o-vision, that show would have reeked of desperation.

What do you think? Were last nite's batch of girls more kooky than ever, or am I imagining it?