Apparently when I'm single a memo is sent out to the males in the greater Los Angeles area. This memo states: 'if you are single and have a non functioning penis, Meghan is currently accepting applicants'. Oh how I wish I were kidding.
I was dating a wonderful, amazing guy. He made me laugh, he was attentive and smart. We read the same books and have amazing amounts in common. He and I have essentially only held hands. Because that's all he can do. SERIOUSLY. Ergo, I am now single again. Also, I am planning a trip to New Orleans to seek out a voodoo doctor who can lift whatever crazy Gypsy curse that has been placed upon me. With the exception of New Years Boy (oh, how I miss him) the last 3 boys I've dated, count 'em, 3, have had ahem... issues. So while if just looking at the numbers of men I've dated in the past year you'd think I was a woman of loose morals. AND DAMMIT I'M TRYING TO BE ONE. However, in actuality I am closer to being a nun than the vast majority of single humans. Well a nun who curses, drinks and occasionally has flings with marines. So you know, the good kind of nun.
Now excuse me while I go weep bitterly and pour one out for my hommies. You know, the ones with the broken penises.