A wise woman—OK, Sharon Stone—once said, “Love is like the ocean. Sometimes the tide is in and sometimes the tide is out, and sometimes it’s like the frigging Mojave. Fortunately, I like the desert. I’m a desert flower.”
For the past two months, ever since The Juggler faded out, I have been hiking through the Mojave, stopping every once in a while to shake the sand out of my shoes. Keep reading »
Romance and sex no longer really automatically go hand-in-hand. We have known this for years now, yet some of us still get mixed up. Sex without romance can be liberating, fun, and carefree. Romance is something entirely different. It’s an enhancer for the heart, mind, and soul. Since these two words can mean entirely separate things, that now means there are two different kinds of dry spells: one for the body and one for the mind.
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I think (and desperately, desperately hope) that all single people encounter dry spells. I don’t mean dry spells during which you get no physical love. I mean dry spells during which members of the opposite sex refuse to talk to you. Maybe their schedules are too packed watching March Madness games, or perhaps they’re feeling unattractive because they’ve developed a layer of fat to keep warm during the winter months, but for whatever reason, girls don’t exist.
The last two months were a dry spell for me. During the 61 days that made up April and May, exactly zero people took any interest in my online dating profile. A handful of men looked at my page, but no one winked at me and no one messaged me. I’m not even sure how this is statistically possible — right now there are 856 people “online now” in my area, according to the site — but during that time I was viewed as a communicative disease in the online dating world. I don’t put much stock into horoscopes, however, mine sucked during those two months, so maybe the stars are to blame.
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