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I love being single

Free to be ... me

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Being single is a choice.

For me, it’s a very good choice, and it’s one that Natasha and I have decided we’re sticking to for the good of the order.

I think it’s interesting that so many people spend their time trying to figure out what’s wrong with me since I’m not in a relationship, only to discover that there really isn’t anything.

I also can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve heard this speech:

“I just don’t understand. You’re beautiful, smart, successful and fun. When are you going to settle down with the right guy?”

For the foreseeable future, the answer to that looming question is never.

What people don’t understand is that when you add all of those adjectives together, it creates one affect in the minds of most men: Utter intimidation. So much so that men rarely approach me.

However, I find no flaw in the overly-fulfilling life I lead as a single person, especially since marriage in this country is more of a marketing tool than a commitment these days.

I’m free to do what I please, wherever I may roam, which always seems to consist of having fun.

I usually don’t get into fights with myself, I don’t hurt my own feelings, or worry about anyone trying to rob me of the social and financial empire that I’ve built.

I’m only child, and so very independent, and I’ve never needed relationships or a man to validate my life.

But please don’t label me as selfish, I just think I have it a little more figured out than most.

So many of the couples in relationships that I know are all kinds of miserable, and for me, misery is not acceptable.

Most of all, I have such an incredible group of men in my life who really are just friends. The way I see it, the amalgamation of all of them together equals a boyfriend. They call me, they take care of me, they love me.

Why settle for one when you can have 100?

If I need some physical attention, I’ve been fortunate to be able to order it like a milkshake.  Sometimes I have difficulty deciding between vanilla, chocolate and strawberry.

Another thing that I realized recently is that if I was in a relationship, I’d probably get into trouble for flirting with you every week.

Now THAT would be tragic.

Attempted drama-free Friday

After a great week at work, I hustled over to my Friday softball game, collected a W, and went out with my team to the Cloverleaf for a few. Following, I was pleasantly surrounded by Mushroom Maven, The Allman Brother, Musicman Ben, Mama Jess and Mizz Mandilicious at the Parkway. It’s surprising how much game you can have when you’re dirty and still in your cleats.

A fellow patron there didn’t fair quite as well. A drunken nurse, still in her scrubs, fell from being wasted and laid on the ground as her overly-dramatic friend jumped on her like she was dying and demanded that the bartenders call 911. That broad was fine. Sirens, firefighters and paramedics flew in, only to meet the non-emergency. They rolled her up and took her away.

That’s the most excitement I’ve ever seen at the PDub. Liquor Control Board agents who are reading this shouldn’t worry about the Parkway over-serving. You’d think a nurse of all people would know her limits.

Single Saturday

I’m still rockin’ my Hawaii tan so I threw on a white tank and a pretty flower necklace that Ginger Knoxx gave me for my birthday. Natasha and I decided to see how far we could get on public transportation, and we hopped on the bus to Asado for dinner. Good gawd, that flat iron steak is incredible! We took the #1 back downtown and hit up the Swiss to say hi to the boys for a few. Then it was back up the hill to Tempest and Monsoon Room. We decided to use a more traditional form of transportation after that, and we walked from Monsoon to Doyle’s. I’ll just say that there are all sorts of interesting characters on Tacoma Avenue, each of whom were ordered to stop looking at us.

As always, the beer and buddies at Doyle’s were well worth the urban warrioring.

I’m Carmen, your new chameleon.  Drop me your favorite parties here.

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