When Did Dating Become Duty?

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I feel a bit like Carrie from Sex and the City for writing this--minus the bad fashion sense, protruding mole and consiquence free sex. Now that I think about it, several other things are missing as well. But I thought I would stick with the basics.

On to the point.

Today, I was musing. I cannot speak for all women, or very many women at all, perhaps not even for my single sister, but I know I can speak for myself. Dating is no longer fun, it is plain drudgery. I remember when it was fun. You looked forward to the date. There was give and take. You didn't always have the upper hand. There was spirited conversation. You hoped they would call.

Now it is a bit more like plucking your eyebrows. Necessary, painful and best if done quickly. It isn't fun. It's more like "Oh! I'm going on a date tonight with..." all the while, rolling your eyes and knowing full well even if he DOES call, you would wish he hadn't bothered.

Even though I feel like a old lady remincsing on her youth and even though I am loathe to admit it, maybe it's me. After all, I am not that old. It isn't like I have gone through generations of dating. You know, "Well, way back when! Dating was fun! Boys were nice! And girls were ladies!"

I pondered the posibility that I could quite well be getting jaded about dating, and I simply view every date as another guy to find another problem with so I can eliminate yet another guy from my list of men who "are not the one". But. I have been on many a guyatus! I have tried dating out of my "normal" circles. (The only common factor between all my dates is that they are pathetic, spineless wimps.) Perhaps this is the byproduct of online dating. Having so much to choose from. Having to quickly eliminate. Having to weed out the weirdo's from the semi-weirds.

There is no POINT to this post except that I am wondering if I am the only one out there thinking this. DATING IS NOT FUN. Dating cannot even be classified as work. Because I enjoy work! I like work! Dating is henious DRUDGERY. You walk into it every time wondering can it get any worse? And it does! Miraculously enough. It does. And you have one more horrific story to tell. Hopefully, one more horrific story to tell once you have found The One and you are cutely cuddling at the family dinner. But more realistically, one more horrific story you will tell to your girlfriends while you are eating out and warding off the advances of the nearby creepy guys who are trying to get your number--in hopes that THEY CAN REPEAT THE WHOLE VICIOUS CYCLE.

Dating is exhausting. And boring.

Let's NOT forget boring. Except for the good occasional escape story.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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