Ok, Sacramento. You win. I’ll officially take up the unofficial mantel of dating blogger for the area. At least, I don’t know of anyone else in Sacramento, Placer or Yolo counties who is writing about the angst of being single. That’s not to say I won’t write about other things here, but I will no longer eschew the title of dating blogger.
Confession: I never get hit on. Let me qualify that. I rarely get hit on. The only time I can remember a random guy coming up to me and trying to chat me up was 7 years ago in Las Vegas. Regardless, I am so scared and clueless that I didn’t even know the guy was coming on to me. I just thought he was weird.
Part of my fear is that I think most people are nefarious. I send out the “get the fuck away from me or I will cut you” vibe as a means of keeping away those who might do me harm. Sadly, this keeps everyone away. I’m trying not to be so freaked out when I’m alone in public, but you’ve seen the news. It’s a scary world out there and I don’t want to be a headline because I did something stupid like the lady who walks her dog at night by herself in the Mission District of San Francisco.
Am I the only one like this? Sorry guys. I want you to talk to me, but I also don’t want to be raped or mugged. It’s hard for me to relax and be in the moment when I’m afraid it might be my last. I used to think it was because I’m not pretty enough or too fat, but I’ve seen enough ugly, overweight women happily hooked up to know that’s not the case.
So, men don’t hit on me. Which is why I do the online dating thing. Yes, I succumbed to my stupid hormones and put my profile back up. I’m a glutton for misery I guess, but at least you’ll get some good reading out of it.
Speaking of blog fodder, on Tuesday, I’m going to a Stir event. Yes, it’s one of those Match.com singles events. I don’t want to go, but as the unofficial dating blogger in Sacramento, I figure I should go and check it out. I’m certain it’s going to be a train wreck. Singles events usually are awful. It’s like being set up by an acquaintance you barely know. There’s all this pressure to look good and act perfect…oh yeah have fun too! Bleh.
At least there will be alcohol, so that takes away some of the pain. It would be nice if I’m wrong about the whole thing and it ends up being fun, but I’m not much of a joiner so my mind won’t be very open to the opportunity. At last count, 173 men were attending this “Happy Hour for Local Singles” Odds are there are probably just as many women.
I’ll try not to have an “are you kidding me with this?” look on my face, but it won’t be easy.