As fast as it lit up, it exploded out like a spark.
And so it goes.
The trials of a 30-something dating in a world filled with
people who are Just Not That Into Me.
I can take it.
I might not like it, but I can take it.
I didn’t like okra as a kid, but I forced it down.
I'm not talking about fried okra either.
Apparently I didn't learn okra could be fried until I was a young adult.
It's gross any way you serve it other than fried.
Trust me.
Boys are sometimes slimy.
Like okra.
This analogy/epiphany is fantastic.
I’m bril.
So I forge ahead into the wilderness.
Or is dating in our thirties more like a war zone?
Needless, I’ll put my battle gear back on.
To protect myself.
Until one day I see some soul raise his white flag.
And then the dating war will be over.
I write my own chapters.
This novel isn’t over yet.
Oh man. I'm sorry to hear this. But you have the right attitude. Keep on keepin' on!
ReplyDeletei dig the new layout and this post. the only thing is --- okra can go in a bloody mary....
ReplyDeleteI just signed back up for Match. I need to post a photo of a potential suitor - it rivals your cut out!! I'm sorry it didn't work out... but I like the attitude. xx.
ReplyDeleteBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
ReplyDeleteYah I'm going to need his name and number... He has no idea what he's lost. MOVING on!!
ReplyDeleteOn to the next one. ;)
ReplyDeleteLove this comparison. You are definitely bril.