A single, epic fail.


Ever hear of an epic fail?

It’s not just a failure, it’s a failure of epic proportions. It’s the pyramid of failures, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall.

Get the picture?

Now add me to the picture. If you don’t know what I look like just picture a leprechaun for now (that’s pretty close). See me? Standing there pretending to hold up my leaning Tower of Failure while wearing a fanny pack (that makes the failure more epic, don’t you think)?

Well, my failure came the other night, when after an awful day of torture (waitressing), I was at the bar enjoying shots a beer when I noticed a guy that I knew through my older sister. I smiled, re-introduced myself, made the normal pleasantries and went back to drinking with one of my co-workers.

I didn’t think much about it. Well, I did think: “Damn, he’s cute.” But that was about it.

That was, until he moved over to start talking to me.

One thing led to another and I ended up driving him home because he couldn’t drive safely.

“Want to come inside?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” I had seen enough episodes of Sex and the City to know that usually meant something was going to happen. But I was conflicted as to whether I wanted to do anything. He was drunk. For all I knew this was just because he had no other options for the evening and I have a strict “no one night stand” clause these days.

I didn’t want him to regret a decision he had made while drinking.

So I went in and stood at least two awkward feet away from him at all times and let him show me his house. Then he walked me to my car.

The moment the door closed I regretted it. This guy was a catch and I knew that I had let him go like a child who didn’t want to keep the fish she had just reeled in. I was tempted to get out of the car, kiss this boy and give up all my fears.

But my fears run deep and I stayed with my hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel and drove myself home.

Epic fail?

You bet your ass.

And if he comes back and is interested a second time you better believe that I won’t hold back again.

A single rerun.


Most people have an aversion to watching an episode of their favorite show when they’ve already seen it.  Reruns take over many channels in the next couple of months, as seasons end, and, since I’m obviously not normal (can we say “Ginger?”),  I’m super excited.

I love reruns.  Reliving the action and heartaches that I was so enthralled by the first time around; It’s the added amount of suspense in knowing what is about to happen.  Seeing Kate standing on top of the roof, smiling and joking with DiNozzo and Gibbs after being shot in the chest because she had that bullet proof vest on, and knowing she will be shot in the head at any moment – it’s what makes watching NCIS marathons on the USA network worthwhile.

Watching TV shows again and again bring me pleasure.  It’s a weird kink in my personality.  And it’s probably why I have similar tendencies in my dating life.  And why I watch way too much TV.

I’m a Rerun Dater.  I always go back to the same guys that I’ve dated before for the same reason that I go back to the same television shows that I’ve already seen: I want to be convinced that what happened before happened exactly like I remember it.  I want to rewind and relive that perfect kiss we shared.  Feel the same arms hold me the same way they did the last time they held me.  Or smile at the awkward first texts between me and him.

Ultimately these guys annoy me in the same way they did the first time we were together.  That just makes sense though.  When you watch a rerun nothing changes.  The episode remains the same.

That’s probably why I enjoy them though? Right.  They are the same.  I know that at one point they were human beings that I could like and who, potentially, had similar feelings for me.  Maybe it’s more out of laziness that I spark up these relationships repeatedly. I know I can easily get what I want.

All I know is that it’s not working.  I need to stop fearing the newer episodes, the unknown, and learn what happens as it happens.  Are there any perspective new boys in my life that I could do this with? Sure, there’s one.  I just need to be completely ready to change to his channel and stop paying attention to all the other reruns in my life.

Oh, and readers, welcome to the new season of A Single Blog (sorry about that hiatus).

A single case of love ADD.


There’s a 99.56% chance that I have ADD. Here’s why:

  • Can’t concentrate on one thing for long periods of time. 
  • Lord knows I can’t sit still. 
  • And if there is a shiny thing in the room then forget about it – You lost me the moment I saw a glimmer in the distance.

Thing is, my ADD applies to all parts of my life, including my love life.

I’m convinced that I can’t stay interested in the same boy for more than few months at the most.  It’s often the case that more than one boy has caught my interest at any given time.  I like variety.  I like bouncing back and forth between different prospects.

It could be argued that, yes, I might just be indecisive and generally like the smörgåsbord that I have created for myself but I think that still can be played up to my Love ADD problem.  

New, shiny men intrigue me (or special moments distract me).  I jump, hop and skip from one crush to the next because apparently my adderall isn’t a strong enough dosage. 

Like I said, Love ADD.  

And that other guy glimmer is not only horribly distracting but also ruining any chances that I might have at being in a relationship.  I can’t focus on one guy long enough to make a real relationship start because I constantly feel like there could be something better out there.  I almost always have two guys at once that I’m interestested in.

Maybe it’s a rational thing, though.  For instance, right now, I like one guy both on a physical and emotional level while I like another guy on a strictly emotional level.  And I think that I do this to ensure that I can find the best of both worlds until I can find one that fits both worlds the best.    It will be a long journey, I’m sure, but maybe I’m ensuring myself happiness.

But then again, I’m almost certain I’m just unable to sit with one man for more than a few weeks. 

Love ADD.


100% sure that I’ve got that one.

5 Ways to Get a Guy in Your Bed


It can be a craft to get a guy into your bed.  We’ve all been there – you make an excuse to get Boy into your room and then, you get there, and you’ve run out of clever ways to trick him to get him into your bed with you.

That’s why A Single Blog has compiled a list of tricks to get the man you desire into bed with you.

5. The “hook, line and sinker.”
Get a Hooker.  Put Hooker in bed. Tell Boy about Hooker.  Follow him to bed. Get into bed with Boy and Hooker.  Then you’ve got him, hook, line and sinker.

4. “I want to have sex.”
No explanation needed, apparently, guys like sex.

3. The “look over there!” maneuver. 
Cry “look over there!” and while he is looking away, strip off your clothes and push him into bed.

2. “Kegs in beds.”
Boys like beer.  Boys like lots of beer. A keg has lots of beer. Get the keg in the bed and everything else will fall into place.

1. The old “bacon in my bed” trick. 
Sometimes the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.  If you couple man’s strange desire for bacon at all sorts of time then you can easily get him into your bed just by putting a nice crispy strip under your pillow.  Wait for him to get the bacon in his mouth and then get on the bed with him.  Game. Set. Match.

Disclaimer: A Single Blog cannot guarantee the success of any of these tips.  Wear protection.  Don’t drink and screw.  Just kidding, drink and screw but wear a condom still.  No one, especially A Single Blog, wants to see the product of your drunken mistake.  Remember, no means no both ways.  Always make sure that  you ask your partner before having sex – no one likes a rapist.

A single question.

My friend, Kelsey, and I sat in her apartment last night working on a class project that was due the next day.  Time was ticking down towards our deadline and with our laptops poised in front of us and textbooks open, conversation naturally made way to one subject: boys – to be more exact – dating boys.
We both revealed that dating was something we hadn’t done in a while.  The actual act of going out, getting a free meal, seeing a movie and holding hands (all in exchange for us shaving our legs) had escaped our grasps for some time now and we were both ready to get the chance to do so again.  However, instead of blogging about it, she did something.  Something that just impresses me still.  She took her phone and just texted a boy.  Simple.  Straight forward.  She just did it.  
The text:
K: let’s go on a a date
Boy: when?
K: up to you.
You got to love her balls.  Who is brave enough to just ask a boy, any boy, out? That girl.  She didn’t care if he said yes or no. She just wanted to go out on a date.  But that’s Kelsey for you.  She’s as out-goingly cool as they come.  And, maybe, if we were to act a little bit more like Kelsey we could get some more free meals.  
But Kelsey’s simple solution seems to evade most of us, especially me.  What keeps us from just going up and asking that person out? What scares us? It is simply a question that we ask.  We ask questions everyday without fear of penalty: Would you like fries with that? Do these jeans make me look fat? If ‘a’ is squared and ‘b’ is squared does it equal a good time?  Everyday questions arise and we don’t feel panicked but put a penis somewhere in that answer and, lord knows, that we start sweating.  
It just seems that we need to do something to make it so we can all start dating more.  Castration aside, there is only one option for us dateless ones out there: get out of your head.  Float around in atmospheric goop and just go dumbly over to the first person you’re interested in.  Watch as you numbly ask them out.  Be pleased when they say yes.