Can You Smell That Love You're Stepping In?

(this is from an email sent to a friend this week- but I thought it offered a little insight into my new life as a single gal)

So I am sure you knew this was inevitable, Mr. Wonderful never called.
I did however receive an awkward text message in which he explained that he was going to try to work things out with his stripper girlfriend (?!?) and that he was embarassed to admit that he lived at home (as in "the parental home"), did not in fact own a bar, but was instead a bartender and had no aspirations beyond this vocation. Fabulous.
I love that, in the end he did however suggest that we, "just be friends".
As if.
I explained, via text, of course, cause he is a possibly married man... that in his world of light beer and greasy, battered and deep fried cuisine, a girl who prefers a night of beaujolais and creme brule would not even want to pop in to use the head.
Also, I noted that I wasn't aware blatant deception was a building block of a lasting friendship- but after that I felt I had said enough and drowned my sorrows in teeth bleaching strips and a brief bout of bulemia.
You always ruin the first pancake on the griddle, as they say.
It wasn't a total waste of my flirtatious charms- it got me back in the saddle. Albeit with a bartender who lives with his mother and stripper girlfriend... but he was cute at the very, very, very, very least.
What an asshole.
I know that I am so much better off alone at this point, but the attention/affection was nice, you know? (and of course you do.)
Meaningless sex is just not my thing, as unplanned pregnancies sort of reveal the insidious man behind the curtain. As long as I can breed, sex must at least be with someone of some significance. It isn't so much that I am a prude, but I have spent the last 13 years paying the price for a fling. Tends to suck the fun out of such things. Although, the offers have been pouring in... should I be insulted?

I keep telling myself that things will look up and get better, and I feel that they will.

The funny thing for me, anyway- is that marriage has taught me that I want to re-marry. I didn't know if I wanted to get married before, but now I have changed and there are things that I just want to build with someone... I want to be fabulously glamourous, but I want to do this with a partner by my side. I am great alone, I do fine by myself, but oh there is something to be said for having someone beside you to poke fun at all the party-goers.

I have been chanelling Dorothy Parker of late. I have begun to think that I am her reincarnation, although taller and more busty. I sat up writing little poems about my bullshit experience with love and other nonesense. I don't want to end up like she did. Bitter, alone and soaking in sidecars.

I am hopeful, I am frightened, but I will be just fine.
I will print that out and staple it to my breast.