I blame it on the rain. Or on Vanilli Willie for aiding in the unleashing of that song on us all and just for being an easy, funny target. But just a week ago last Monday it was 113 degrees, and this Monday it was 59 (that’s a 54 degree difference) and now it has been raining enough to leak through my skylights and create a little stream inside my loft. Almost nothing is better than the seasons changing, especially when you live in a completely season-less city, but when it rains it pours.

And almost nothing helps a girl’s dating life out more than a national magazine article that uses the word “Single” to describe her and uses an overly flattering photograph of her chopping prop herbs (did you SEE how I was holding that knife? It’s lucky I have fingers at all). Really. It’s been the best personal ad anyone has ever imagined. Screw piña coladas and getting caught in the rain. The only glitch: the girl.

Here’s the thing. I have been moping more than dating recently and I am totally out of practice and off my game; if you read about the One Night Stand-Up you even know that sometimes a date with me is not only emotionally painful, but physically so. I have friends because they stick around long enough to get to know me (I am highly contextual), but, as evidenced in these here little pages, I would say I am not so adept at the first (and sometimes second or third) impressions thing when there is a chance of romance. I get super nervous, usually drink waaaaaayyy too much and say things that no girl should (I like to announce that I don’t even have a savings account, because nothing says successful, independent woman more than that). And, as the Guy I went out with on Monday night said, I like to under-promise and over-deliver, minus the over-deliver part.