I've been meaning to write this post, pretty much since I DECIDED to move here, and still lived in Chico. It was one of the first minuses I thought of when I was listing potential problems with relocating. Then Julia pretty much wrote it for me: There are NO cute boys here. Mainly it's that they're mostly dicks, and being a soulless asshat eliminates all cuteness that you may ever have had. I'm never going to date someone who doesn't at the very least think that I'm really fucking awesome.
I have a reasonably broad definition of cute, which can be captured in attitude, looks or personality.
Which makes being single here really...not...fun...
But. The cute boy (or three?) that I hit in the face with my purse? You have to read Julia's post (yeah I linked to the same thing twice in one post? So what? Shut it) to hear about that, I'm still too embarrassed. Okay well this cute boy sat next to me on the bus and when I stood up to leave I smacked him really hard in the face. With my giant green purse. And I think I've seen him more than once.
I guess you don't HAVE to read her telling of it after all, but it's fair to point out that I don't remember telling anyone about it, because Jennifer + Cold Medicine = Trance-like High. Anyways. I THINK he rode his bike past me when I was at the bus stop on Monday. None of these times have I been wearing my glasses, so while I wouldn't put money on the fact that there aren't four potentially similarish cute guys in this city, I'm just pretty sure it's just one guy who I've seen multiple times.
Also. Where do you meet boys anyways? While I met Gabriel's dad in the men's room, I don't think that's a highly recommended rendezvous. And I think we can all agree that may not have been the healthiest relationship that ever was. Bars are gross. Work is a lifeless desert of nothingness. I have a whole lot of married or practically married friends.
I'm too young and cute to have to go this long without having sex. I'm just saying.
I would fuck me. Oh wait. I do.
Update: Um, yeah, I'm not desperate or unhappy, or anything, I'm just bored with the boy prospects here, and sorta tired of masturbating in the shower. I felt like I had to step in and defend myself from the Alanis accusations, because I'm not on the brink of being a middle aged woman embittered with the state of All Things Men.