After taking brief hiatus from the dating game to attend a Tweetup (in San Francisco, of all places), I found myself back at square one. I had no dates lined up and an inbox full of neglected messages from would-be suitors awaiting my clever, charming and oh-so awkward responses. It was time to change my approach. Time to get serious. Or serious-er.
Dating is a lot like plate spinning, I imagine. When you’re indiscriminately pursuing all leads, regardless of your actual interest in them, it becomes a bit overwhelming. It takes …

A is for Awkward.
Just in case this point isn’t abundantly clear, first dates are awkward. And when you throw me, Queen of the Awkward, into these types of situations? Well, let’s just say no good can come of it. It’s not that I suffer from uncontrollable flatulence or excessive sweating when meeting new people; I just kind of stare at my shoes and wish for the Apocalypse.
Anyway, after a week of exploring Match.com and chatting with a few fine fellows, I decided to take it to the next step – …

A week into my Match.com experiment and I haven’t quite decided whether I like it. On one level, scoping out someone’s profile is kind of like vetting a potential date. On another, chemistry is hard to transfer over the Internet – at least in only a week’s span.
On the plus side, there’s been plenty of interest. This may be attributed to me being a V in a sea of Ps. But I like to think that getting to know me sounds infinitely better than living out the rest of your …

Let me set the scene: It was a cold, snowy night. I was wrapped in a Snuggie, drinking hot cocoa all alone in my bed, and watching Love, Actually for the billionth time. It was one of my more girly moments. One that I’m not particularly proud of considering the Minimum Awesomeness Level I try to adhere to at any moment.
And then it hit me: Damn, I’m lonely.
I’ll go to a bar. Meet someone. Maybe go on a date. Then realize we have absolutely nothing in common apart from our …

The streets are getting slicker and the sale ads are getting thicker. That can only mean one thing: Christmas is near.
If you’re anything like me, Christmas music typically falls into one of two categories: 1) disgustingly saccharine or 2) damn annoying. And still, you can’t seem to escape it. Shopping. Listening to the radio. Or anywhere near a child. It will invade your brain, make a little home and start gnawing on that last bit of patience you were hoping to save until the New Year. But it’s really hard …