What WAS This??: My Farewell

To and fro
Stop and go
That's what makes the world go round

No real sexy Euro stories from Leo and I. Except for the fact that we both agreed that we love that girls in Berlin and Amsterdam will get dressed up to go out for the night and ride their fucking bikes. I mean, that's just what you're supposed to do. Girls throw on a scarf, put on a cute overcoat, get into tights and get dolled up to go out. They hop on their bike and their friend (also dressed to go out) hops on the back part and side saddles. Then they ride to the nearest bar to start their night. There's something really hot about that. Leo and I give that a Euro thumbs up.

Anyway, onto the post...

I should first start out and say that I honestly didn't plan on a specific date to write this. But as I look at today's date, I realize that today marks the anniversary that I started this blog.

The fucking cosmos must have aligned because today also marks the day that I am ending it.

It's hard for me to really explain why I felt the need to end this blog. For starters, loyal readers can agree that about the time I started writing about my experiences with Bree... my writing was on the decline. It's difficult to maintain a blog like mine when you're forced to censor yourself.

I've had to have putting-out-the-fire conversations about specific blog posts with Caitlin, Bree, and Beth. Shit gets real complicated when the girls you are interested in (not to mention their scrutinous friends and family) have access to your 100% honest, dating blog. You suddenly can't write like you used to. A blog with a theme such as mine simply can't survive.

It's unfair for me to put the onus completely on the fact that I have this Big Brother-esque, monkey on my back. As the cliche' goes, every beginning must come to an end (ahhh, NOW The Sword in the Stone ref at the beginning makes sense...).

It's just time.

I guess I have been thinking:

how long can I really go on comparing my dating life now to what it was when I dated my ex-girlfriend Lynn?

So much has changed since then. I've had my own experiences to compare to now.

I'm thought back to where I was when I first started writing. I was drinking 12 packs of beer on the porch alone in the evenings, my ex-girlfriend of 6 years Lynn refused to speak to me, and I had the legitimate concern that no smart, attractive, funny girl would ever be romantically interested in me.

I had no idea that this blog would take me where I am today. When I plopped down at Leo's desktop a few years ago to create my blogger account, I struggled to think of a name for myself. "Starting Over at 24." Shit. I guess that's what I'm doing. Sounds appropriate enough.

I remembering thinking to myself, "I am going to write something for those people out there who have gone through the same shit I'm going through right now. Maybe some other poor soul out there can see what it's like to go from beginning to end. I'll create something to show definitive evidence that there really is light at the end of the break-up tunnel!"

I wrote whatever came to mind and I was lucky enough to get a comment on any given post. But what seemed like out of nowhere, my humble lil' blog snowballed and I was receiving more hits and comments than I thought was imaginable (as of this post I currently have 1,314 Google reader subscriptions. Hot damn!).

It's a strange little community, this blogging world. If you think about it, it's pretty fucking amazing that people are taking time out of their day to read your writing! Not only that, but the countless emails I received from people relating their own personal dating stories back to me or just saying "thank you" for my writing or even going as so far to ask ME for advice on dating. Incredible.

I don't know if I'll ever stop having questions or conjure up theories about dating and the opposite sex. This is coming from the guy who, in the 3rd grade, read books like The Babysitter's Club and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret so he could find a clever angle to engage in conversations with girls.

I still don't have it figured out, but I'm having fun trying.

But every story has to have its ending and I think this where I get off. I want to thank everyone who read from the very beginning, who picked up and caught up, and those who have passed it onto friends. I can't tell you how flattered I am that you took the time to read my ramblings.

Maybe it's the numerous empty Bud Light cans piling up around the desk as I furiously peck away at this last post, but I wonder if you're getting nostalgic as I am:

Moonwalking out on Crazy Janice?
The giddy turned "wtf" period with an Irish girl?
Leo's heartfelt goodbye?
The super fucking instense period with "Beth" that was destined to turn sour?
The makeout sesh with a girl who had a secret?
My failing online dating experiences?
Meeting Bree, a fellow blogger, for the first time?
My ex calling me for the first time since her embargo?
Finally losing that pesky, ever illusive second V-card to the real Beth?

Fuck. I'm getting eMisty over here.

I guess it's time for this blogger to fly. I'm only an email away if the urge strikes you. I promise I'll try and be better about checking that account!

Thank you so much for the memories.

Best,
So@24

Goodnight.

When the Cat's Away... Pt. 4: No Sex, No City

Logan Bruno approves of the following guest post

* * *

No Sex, No City

I don't know what So@24 was thinking.

I mean, he knows. I complain about it in a manner he somehow finds charming (judging by typed laughter simulations, at least): I am not exactly living the Sex and the City sort of single life.

Also, I hate Sex and the City.

There is no city. I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions about the amount of sex.

It's probably my parents' fault. How dare they meet in high school and embark upon a successful thirty-plus year relationship? Thanks for the unrealistic expectations, Mom and Dad. I've already failed! (I suspect my mom also thinks I've already failed, judging by the meaningful looks she gives me whenever I'm back in New York and we see a Match.com commercial on tv. Mom, just because I'm a goof looking for my ball doesn't mean I'm ready to hit up the whole online dating thing. Damn.)

A little history: So@24 and I have similar backstories. For a long time, I was in a Relationship. Yeah, a capital-letter relationship. We lived together for three years. The last seven months were post-breakup. Those seven months were just as awesome as you might imagine; there was even a wall of cardboard blocking off half the living room at one point.

No joke. Here's where I reference the Kaiser Chiefs: settling down in your early twenties sucked more blood than a backstreet dentist.

So here I am, a year and a half later, 25 years old and a swingin' single. Except, you know, not so much.


Then there's the whole “college town” thing. I live in Amherst, Massachusetts. (Okay, technically I live in Sunderland, a bustling metropolis with exactly 1 traffic light and, like, some mountains. Like I said, no city.) Home to the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Also known as UMass. Also known as ZooMass. Also known as 'the college that makes me feel really fucking old.'

I'm becoming more Liz Lemon-y by the minute. Yes Jack, my date nights do involve me at a nice restaurant* with a good book.

Thanks for rubbing it in.

Like, there are bars downtown. It's the scene or whatever. People go there to get rowdy and – from what I can tell – grope each other. Strangers! Groping! Those wacky kids!

My last experience downtown resulted in me telling my friends in a horrified and confused manner about the random guy who came up to me and put his hands on my waist “as if I was his girlfriend.” Quelle horreur! This is how you meet people?

God, I am way too old for this.

Ripe ol' age of 25. Somebody get me a shawl and a cane. I guess I'm from a kindler, gentler time. I'm not completely opposed to getting drunk. But can't we just split a bottle of wine and put our feet up and maybe have an Arrested Development marathon and then go to bed early? Spoon a little? I'll even be the big spoon for like five minutes (admit it ladies, we all want to be the little spoon).


I should just get some damn cats already, shouldn't I.

- Kim
whatclaudiawore.blogspot.com


* Burger King