Not having known him for a long time, I found this quite interesting. I was having a conversation with a romantic interest and he said something to me that stuck: 'Why do you hate guys so much?' He was playing all these games, and I didn't know the rules.' 'He was smart, he was sexy, just totally screwed up. Sparing you all from the excruciating details, in the end, we got separate checks and I most definitely never spoke to him again. Granted he has no idea I'm obsessed with Greek/Roman mythology so when he said Apollo was the god of war, I couldn't help but tell him I know everything he's saying is bullshit.

I don't think the guy should pay for everythingВ because it IS 2014 but it's still nice when they want to.) He spun me some bullshit about how the placement of the rings I was wearing correlate to Greek mythology and indicates different things about my personality. (it's not that i have a problem with paying - i'll always offer to pay, but i don't want to be ASKEDВ to. It started in a dive bar where I was told to give him quarters to pay for a game of pool. One of my most memorable dates constantly had me thinking the host of 'Disaster Date' on MTV would appear from behind the corner with a camera crew clapping for my misery, indicating it was all over now. I decided to 'forget'В to answer his calls and text messages after that. I could feel the uncertainty in his lips, saying, 'is this okay? does she like this? i'm too nervous to be in control.'В Being an avid supporter of making out as much as possible, this was a problem. (Honestly, just fucking do it - it's much sexier.) When he finally kissed me, it was awful. Why I never spoke to him again was simple: even though he was very nice, I could tell he wanted to kiss me but was nervous and unsure if it would be okay. I recently went on a seemingly romantic date with a nice fellow who invited me out to Santa Monica. I've gone on many of the clichГ© dinner & movieВ dates and although they weren't bad, when there's nothing there, there's nothing there. In the end, though, there's also nothing right with them. There isn't anything wrong with the nice guys I date. Most of the time, all these boys kind of blend together no one really sticks out. 'He's not my boyfriend, he's just somebody I'm trying on.' Am I more realistic about human nature? Or am I just setting my expectations exceedingly low as not to get disappointed? Plenty of the guys I date hold little to no interest to me. I can admit that my tactic is a defense mechanism. I've gotten past the tribulations that were weighing me down and I have yet to see what else the universe has in store for me. The experiences I've gone through - good and bad - have led me to exactly where I am now. And all of this has happened before I could even reach the half-way mark of the year. I've accomplished a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot, learned a lot, won some, and lost some. Lucky for me, I enjoy this kind of lifestyle.

This year has been a roller coaster of emotion and experiences. I want to do everything I can't do, and I want everything I can't have. So naturally, I've decided to abandon all responsibilities and blog. I have job interviews to prepare for, shoots, alterations on clothes I've been meaning to make, and some garments I have yet to put up and sell on Etsy. It's very typical of me to decide the appropriate time to begin blogging again is now, knowing that have other obligations to attend to. I've become a master of binging: binge-blogging, binge-drinking, binge-chipotle-eating.

It seems as though I've lost my blogging etiquette.

Why I chose to let them stay hidden from the public, I do not know. My previous two blog posts below this one were just sitting pretty in my drafts box for months. It's probably why I've waited about six months to hit that pretty orange 'Publish'В button. I can't just simply hop right back onto this uncomfortably-seated website, know exactly where my center of gravity is, begin to move the gears in my mind, and words effortlessly spill out of my fingertips and onto this page. As I sit here, looking at blank white space with nothing but a blinking curser, I realize, starting to blog again is not like riding a bike.

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