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A Moment of Silence

To say the summer was interesting would be an understatement. Dare I say, this summer might have been my best one ever? That’s a bold statement, I know, but it’s true.

A cocktail of city adventures, new friends, a boost of unknown energy, and the possibility that it may be my last NYC summer, I was in it to win. And while I walked away with great moments in my personal and professional life, the romantical side of life got a little messy. Lots of  promising starts but countless endings. I guess that’s life and everyone goes through it but ask any girl in New York City and you will see her eyes light up with understanding when you say, dating in NYC is the worst.

 

My problem is,I think I’ve been suffering from a case of “Basic Dudes”. You know, the kind of guys who seem great on the surface and then, upon greater inspection, fail to make the cut. yet you keep coming back to them because you think, “Eh why not? Can’t get any worse that that fool you dated three months ago? And no one wants to spend summer nights alone.” However, somewhere between “eh” and “who knows?” you end up thinking “yeah this could be something.” Well, that’s the beginning of the end, at least in my previous summer dating experiences. And I didn’t realize how these experiences had started to affect me until a recent dating fail left me with a rather strong bitter taste in my mouth, the kind that refuses to let you move on. I started questioning who I was, what I wanted, and my actions, which I think is a major red flag in almost everything, especially dating. I also started feeling way more negative and anxious over guys I didn’t even think I liked. I mean, hold the phone: that’s just crazy.

So, because of that jaded feeling and my fear that I will just end up a bitter old broad, I’ve gathered you all here today to do two things:

1. Collectively say RIP to all the past (and maybe even current) guys  who should be laid to rest in the cemetery of dating past. 

2. Purge the bad dating karma I’ve gathered and start fresh.

 

And, to keep me honest and my brain on the positive-train, I’ve decided to document a few of my dating, shall we say, hiccups, here in the future. Because, let’s be honest, you don’t need another food blogger waxing poetic about the beauty of cookies/ice cream/pumpkin bread. What you want is honesty, a fresh POV, a voice that is distinct, stories that make you say, “BEEN THERE DONE THAT.” And maybe a little dash of humor and sass. Right? Right.

 

 

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