Back in the saddle again. Ugh.

i'm sure there's a plethora of blogs out there about the single gal navigating the "other fish in the sea." but since i'm recently back in the mother-effing saddle again, i thought i'd add to the woes of singledom bloggorea.

i've always been steadfastly picky (some may say "critical") when it comes to guys, and i've only cared deeply about two (well, maybe three, but really, two) in my 25 (almost 26, gulp) years. all the guys in between have just been a distraction until the real one comes along. and with good reason! here's a little taste of what i've had to deal with in my single moments:

• one baltimoron put his hand on my leg (gasp! i'm a prude) on the way to the restaurant-annoying. even more annoying was when he followed it up with a hand in my back pocket at a bar. come on, is it 1985 and do you really think that's sexy? lose.
• another baltimoron (actually he was nice and smart) ran his hand over my carpet (on my floor, pervs) to pull up a handful of hairball, proving, on the first date, that i was a bad housekeeper.
• just recently, i was getting my picture taken in a bar when i felt a squeeze on my left butt cheek. i turned to the striped-shirt-wearing, ex-frat boy in outrage, saying "don't do that!!" his response? "i'm sorry, baby. i'm brian. what's your name?" is he kidding? is this how guys meet girls? would any girl react to that with some dumbass giggle and date this pig?
• another long-term semi-boyfriend invited me all the way to an island on the carribbean. not until the second day (of no action) did he tell me he had a girlfriend back home! i'd like my $800 back, please.
• another turtleneck-wearing* guy was an illegal immigrant. everything about him was illegal--his car decals, his license, everything. but we lasted four months because i obliviously couldn't understand a word he said in his irish brogue.
• a boy i had had my eye on for months--then finally smooched--invited me last minute to a work party. then he called me the wrong name. then i found out he already had one date to the party, and i would be his second. come on.

and the list goes on. it gets worse and worse. but alas, i find myself back here, in the saddle again. and it's tiring and daunting. but it's springtime, and love-slash-horniness is in the air. maybe i'll meet a good-looking guy with more than three brain cells who would never dare grab my ass as a hello. dare to dream, beanorama.

*and if by turtleneck, you mean...