Reason #8: Eye Contact Should Give Me A Clue

All I can say is I apologize. March was a crazy month… I hadn’t felt funny, much less inspired. I’m sure most of you thought “oh, the blog has stopped, maybe she found love!!”… But don’t worry my faithful friends. I am back. Still single.

And with a brand new story.

Thanks God, for always remembering me.

Here we go.

So, this past Saturday I went to dinner with some friends, Jessica and Stephanie. We went to Nunu’s Mediterranean. I loooooove me some hummus and other Mediterranean cuisine and had never been here before, so I was really excited to go. I heard they had some rockin hummus. Like I said. I love hummus. Hummus. Hummus. Hummus. (if you haven’t caught on, hummus is going to be an important part of this story).

So, I’m sitting facing Stephanie. Behind her is a table of kind of nerdy looking guys – (I think there was also a baby and some girl. Probably the baby’s mother. Oh wait, who cares.) So, one of the guys was the really cute kind of nerdy. Scruffy beard, modern glasses… you know the type. Well, so it could be in my head – but I swear I made eye contact with this guy like 5 times. I mean, I tried to be sly and not like I was looking at him… but I would just look up every once in awhile to see if he was still looking at me… sometimes he was. The other times I checked for a ring. (cause you know, if there wasn’t one I obviously am one that would go strike up a conversation with this gentleman… ha. Good news: there was no ring. Bad news: I’m not that girl.)

So, I’m talking to my friend Jessica, sitting next to me. I’ve stopped my games because I was focusing on talking to my friend. So of course, because I forget about my cute nerd boy at the next table… I take my fork and scoop up a big blob of hummus and proceed to lick it.


Yes, I licked the hummus off.


These are the thoughts running through my mind as the action is still happening. So what do I do? Just keep doing it like I’m doing so in a funny joking way at Jessica. Because I’m sure that made him feel better about this girl.

Oh wait, no… it just means I didn’t stop. I just prolonged the idiocy… with heightened idiocy.

What is wrong with me?










Oh right, I love hummus too much.


Reason #7: A Valentines Day 2011 Special

Oh friends… how my life is just a thrill to you all.

As you all know last week was Valentines Day… which I’m sure you are assuming is my all time favorite holiday ever in the history of time. If you do think this… please refer back to the title and subject of this blog. It’s called “Why I’m Still Single” not “Why I’m so in love and giving my sweetheart giant plush gorillas that sing Wild Thing“.

Yes, yes… I know I’ll be singing a different tune when the day comes that my Facebook relationship status is actually ON my page. But until then, love shmove.

So, February 14, 2011. I got the chitlins ready for Children’s Day Out. So, already at 9am had the infamous Reagan drool on my shoulder. Lovely. My friend Stephanie asked me to go to lunch so I was excited cause she had a present for me! Cause… even if I don’t have a male companion, I can still celebrate the love of my best friends. Well… then Stephanie cancelled. Wonderful. Her husband had secret lunch plans for her. I mean, it’s not like they had dinner plans or anything. Jerk. Just kidding… I really just wanted my present. Well, after my boring lonely time to myself Stephanie told me to come to her office so I could get my present. Little did I know Stephanie was giving me the companion I had been dreaming of! She got me a man, a wonderful Valentine date…

Well… kinda. I mean, I’ve heard you have to train/change a man… but this is too easy.

I mean, just look… only 72 hours!!!


C’mon now… the only V-Day action I can get is a spongy frog that changes into a little plastic prince? My roommate gets roses from a not-so-secret admirer and I get a 72 hour waiting game for an inanimate object’s affection. Meh… okay. Seems about right.

So here we go, the transformation (kinda like when the Beast changes on Beauty and the Beast… but with less smoke and mirrors and shimmering noises). I had to fill the egg, wait for the bubbling to stop – tiny prince revealed, pour the water out and fill it again. Yes this IS what I did while you all were out with your husbands, wives, fiancees, etc. etc. et. cet. er. aaaaaaaaaaa….

The heart in the middle represents my heart beating in anticipation for my love.


So then comes my 72 hour waiting game. Yes, nightly I would check on my little man… see how he was growing and changing into the prince I’ve always dreamed of. Yup, I dedicated my time to this guy. A testament to how I would be with a real man I think. Tell your friends. Your male, single, tall friends.

See how he grew?! I’m in awe of this man. As he grew, my love for him grew. What a magical 72 hours it was…

Seriously folks, he is my new best friend. My main squeeze. Any other man will have to go through him to get to me. Granted it should be a pretty easy fight… I think all you’d have to do is break the egg open and flush him. Oh crap, did I just reveal my Superman’s kryptonite? Whatever, he has a crown. He’s still cooler than other guys.

Here is the finished product picture… my advice to you ladies who are trying to change your men to fit more into who you think they should be and your lifestyle: go buy one of these dudes (of course, available at Amazon) and just accept your man for who they are. Or just buy him some new clothes.


Looking forward to V-Day 2012.

Maybe I’ll get a giant plush gorilla that sings Wild Thing. A girl can dream.


Reason #6: Life Should Not Be Treated As A Musical

Are  you ever walking in the mall or sitting at work or in a restaurant and just thinking “man, how awesome would it be to bust out into a full on mass choreographed song and dance number right now?”

Seriously though, it would be so awesome. Dozens of people… singing the same thing, just busting out in some public arena and everyone is included, no one thinks its weird… very HSM-esque.

While I never was actually involved in musical theater, this is in fact a desire. But this is only the preface to where is post is going.

I have a habit of “publicly breaking out into song”. And not even on purpose… in the car, shopping at Target… I don’t even really notice that it happens until I realize someone has caught me. Problem #1.

Example: One night I was going to Micah and Stephanie’s house, and I stopped at the Braums by their house on the way… I think for ice cream or something. Not important. Get to the goods. So the last song on the radio before getting out of the car was some Black Eyed Peas song… maybe Boom Boom Pow. Now you see where this is headed. You’ve been there. Don’t lie. So I go into Braums, get the ice cream, pay and proceed back to my car. Like the radio had been on pause, I sit down and even before starting the car – I sing at the top of my lungs the next line of the song. Cause that’s normal… okay, it’s not, but I was in my car, it’s a safe place. Au contraire.

So I sing the line, turn my head to the right… and see a redneck-trucker hat-guy sitting in his truck just staring at me. Awesome. So I turn back, start my car, and leave.

At least he got a show. Good thing he wasn’t one to impress. But judging by my life I probably should lower my standards. Dang, he could have been my hubs.

C’est la vie.


Reason #5: Maybe I Should Learn To Play Bridge

So, the past few Saturday nights haven’t necessarily been my shining moments as a single 25-year-old. No, my life is not like the popular, further-from-real-life-than-they-let-on show The Hills. I mean, really? Whose life is like that anyway? Ridiculous. Nor is my life like the average twenty-somethings who enjoying going to bars/clubs and drinking and or grinding it up on some other twenty-somethings (or creepy thirty-somethings trying to pretend they are a twenty-something… *attention creepers* we know you aren’t twenty-seven… believe me)

Anyway, so let’s start with two weeks ago…

January 8: All Shook Up

While I’m sure Lauren Conrad was out getting paparazzi’d and probably most of my former high school/college classmates were at various bars getting at least buzzed and at most schwasted (its a schwaste of money, if you ask me… oh, and a schwaste of dignity)… I did eventually end up at a location where some of them may have been, but for very different reasons.

My “other half” (aka college/sorority best friend) Karisa sent me a little texty-poo saying “i have an extra ticket to Elvis tonight, front row, wanna go?” …. (p.s. she knows Elvis is less than breathing, this was an impersonator) … so I, having zero potential plans (a wonderful statement about my life in itself) say absolutely! I mean, how often does an Elvis impersonator come into town? How often are you offered a front row seat? How often do you get to be in a room full of insane 76 year old ladies who are acting like me when I was 13 and at an *NSYNC concert?

But seriously, they were nuts… pretty sure they thought it was the real Elvis. So, I… along with Karisa and two of her cousins who are also in their twenties… met up at the good ol’ Riverwind Casino to eat at a buffet and watch Elvis come back to life. But the Elvis man was definitely feeding their fire… pretty sure he took off a 80 year old woman’s scarf… with his teeth. They were giving him teddy bears, kissing him, caressing his face… pretty sure they were throwing elbows to get near him. Here are some pictures for your enjoyment:

Elvis attacking Whitney

Classic Elvis Hip Shaking

Elvis Singing In My Face

GO INTO THE LIGHT, ELVIS... cause you're dead.

So, that was my first Saturday night of being 50 years older than I actually am… on to number two, and yes it was exactly one week later.

January 15: I Just Love The Corn Bread

My friend Cassidy is one of my best friends from high school. We met when I crashed her 16th birthday party… not one of my

finest moments, but whatev, it’s been a beautiful friendship ever since and I’m sure there will be many more stories on here that probably involve her.

So, Cassidy and I have a history of loving interesting (aka uncommon to our peers) restaurants. One of which is Delta Cafe. If you have never been to Delta Cafe here’s  a few tidbits for you. It is homestyle Southern food. They give you a basket of yummy rolls and my fave jalepeno cornbread. Oh, and also the median age of the patrons of Delta Cafe is around 70.

Picture this: You walk in and see a sea of white hair… well maybe not a sea because that many old people don’t go out at 6pm on a Saturday night, I’m sure at 4pm the sea was full of fish… or early birds… bird fish… ? whatever… so you see the sea, you sit, and choose from an extensive menu of your favorite home cookin’ meals… meatloaf, mac n cheese, chicken strips, turkey and gravy… mmm mmm mmmmmmmmm.

So this is where we, two vibrant mid-twenties gals (one married, one single) decided to meet up on a Saturday night. In case my picture description didn’t do justice for what we were dining with… I found this picture to hopefully give you a better idea.

I mean, if these aren’t the places to meet men… maybe someone should give me new suggestions on where to spend my nights out on the town…


Until then… I’m going to start playing bridge, pinochle, mah jong and oh yes, shuffleboard. When do I get fitted for my dentures and those big black sunglasses that go all around your face?



p.s. Delta Cafe forgot the jalepenos in my cornbread… the entire batch. So I’m probably gonna have to go back soon to fulfill my need. Yes, go back. Mmmm.


Reason #4: Always Be Prepared… for dying alone

Well, since I have left you all hanging for well over a week… I felt you deserved something good… something better than anything I’ve given you up until now.

This last week I had a job interview on Thursday, and I am trying up blog on Wednesdays and Saturdays… well, since the interview was taking a lot of prep, Wednesday was out. Then last night… I’m not sure, I just didn’t. So here we are, starting anew. 🙂 With probably one of the best reasons ever as to why I am still single.

So, Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love dressing up, love making food look like something it isn’t (aka something creepy looking), and just the fun of it all. Well, typically single girls like to look super cute on Halloween… or to quote the wise wise movie Mean Girls, “Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” Well, for this single gal… it isn’t quite the case.

My wonderful friends Jessica & Dustin decided to throw a Halloween party! Here’s what you need to know about me & my friends…

  • We don’t “party”
  • 80% of my friends are married couples… and the ones that aren’t single are also girls…
  • the majority are all pastors, small group leaders, former or current church interns or other current church staff
  • We all like to laugh at with each other

So when I say Jess & Dustin threw a party, don’t picture the Mean Girls Halloween party… cause we are not slutty high school girls… nor were we ever. Ever.

Okay, now we’re getting to the goods… costume prep.

I had no idea what I wanted to be… I may have had some ideas in my head but can’t remember now. One day some friends and I stopped by my friend Felicia’s salon – Starlite Salon – go there, she is fantastic – anyway, they have a room of vintage clothes in the back so we were looking through the stuff and I found it. A boy scout shirt.

While most girls would take the shirt in, crop the hem up, the neckline down and wear it with some daisy dukes topped off with pig tails… I chose a different route. I got men’s cargo shorts, nerd glasses, a hat with a teddy bear on it, the actual boy scouts bandana, and wore it with my socko’s (socks with chacos)… thus, setting myself up for nothing but embarrassment, torture, ridicule, laughter. And so I give you the picture…

Oh, I also dotted my arms and legs with calamine lotion… you know, to complete the costume. Which, if I do say so myself, just looked fantastic. (no, Stephanie was not an indian princess, she was Cher from the 70’s… okay, okay… she was an indian princess)

I really just bring it on myself, don’t I?


Reason #3: Mrs. President

Oh how we all love those high school years… I mean, it was a step up from middle school but you remember way more of your high school embarrassment.

When I was in high school, I wasn’t popular but I was well liked. I had a close group of friends but then also could get along with anyone. I didn’t mix with the “popular” kids, but for one hour a day I was definitely in the “in-crowd”.

I was not in band.


I was not in band.

But I was in orchestra. I played the cello. In 5th grade, there was a day when middle school kids came and showed us every instrument you could play in middle school the next year. Someone played the Jaws theme on the cello and I was sold.

Who knew 2 notes of a popular old movie theme was all it took to ball and chain me to the middle part of the social totem pole for 7 years.

But since I was in the middle of the general public social totem pole… it meant I was at the top of the orchestra social totem pole. (See diagram below)

So, for one hour a day, I got to feel some semblance of “popularity”… which brings me to why we are here. The part of this that could potentially be what is holding me back from a lifetime of marital bliss.

Orchestra Council.

We had a group of officers that planned events, held fundraisers and basically just designed t-shirts. My junior year I ran for secretary and won. My best friends were the other ones on the “council”… cause we were the popular kids. Then when the end of the year came around and we needed to elect for the upcoming school year… it was kind of only natural that I would be the president. Almost expected. Cause I’m that much of a loser awesome.

So I ran… against another guy but his rank on the totem pole wasn’t quite where mine was. I did my speech Mary Katherine Gallagher style. (I love the movie Superstar… if you haven’t seen it, well… I would say come over but I don’t necessarily want all of you people at my house.)

Needless to say I won.

So… reason number 3… President of Orchestra…

If that shouldn’t be something completely and utterly banned from an online dating profile, I don’t know what else should be… (except liking anime).




At least I don’t like anime.


Reason #2: I’m Not Fran Drescher

My current job (not career) is a nanny for a family of 3 kids. The Nanny Named Fran was in NYC, worked for an attractive single dad and the kids did not have to have diapers changed… three things The Nanny Named Fran and I do NOT have in common. I work in Edmond, Oklahoma, for a married couple (not that I would be going after the dad anyway… no offense Steve [in case he ever gets to this… and no offense to Leslie either]) There isn’t a handsome chimney sweep for me to take the kids on outings with, plus I can’t impress anyone by flying with an umbrella.

So when I go out on the town with the kids, I look like a housewife just out with my kids.

Ain’t nothin hotter than a gal pushing a stroller and passing out Goldfish crackers like they’re going out of style (I may as well just splurge and get a diamond ring for myself to complete the ensemble.) So obviously, I’m getting a lot of attention… and there are a lot of opportunities to meet eligible bachelors in the workplace. A LOT. (in case you haven’t noticed, this paragraph was dripping with sarcasm.)

And even when I’m not at work, I get off work at the earliest 6:00… and usually have baby drool on my shoulder. Don’t even get me started on what my hair looks like. So I typically just go home so I can veg out, watch Friends/Big Bang Theory/Glee… so unless the single men come knocking on my door (which that would creep me out)… not really gonna meet them outside of work either.

So to quote Glee:

I’m in a cocoon of horror.


Reason #1: Public Displays of Machine Guns

Alright, so let’s get started with where my reasons of singleness came from. Please visit the “About” page for more background info on this lovely, albeit borderline depressing blog.

One day, I’m at my favorite local Starbucks with my friend Sara. We are sitting there at a table pretty much right next to the front door, chatting it up like always… me with my usual six pump soy chai latte and Sara with her usual caramel macchiato with extra caramel syrup on the top and bottom. I had a wedding coming up that I was to be a bridesmaid in and Sara asked me the date and I told her May 1st. She says, “Oh! May Day!” (referring to the holiday) to which I make my hands into guns point them down and say, “Ya, MAY DAY! MAY DAY! *machine gun noises ending with explosion noise!*…” (I didn’t quite know how to spell “p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-PSCHHHHHHHHHHHH” with you really knowing what it was… but it was definitely kamikaze style)

Whilst I am doing this, the door of Starbucks opens (reminder: I’m sitting right next to the door) and an attractive man stranger walks in… during the “p-p-p-p-p-p-p-PSCHHHHHHH” time. And I turn and smile, while my hands are still in gun formation.

Then I turn to Sara and all that I say is “and that’s why I’m still single…” and she bursts into laughter.

Not really much else to say about that one except…

… crash and burn.