I guess I could start out by introducing myself some. My name is Brittany and I'm 22 years old. I live in the Biggest Little City In The World. I'm a Journalism major. I work as a teacher's aide in a special education classroom. I love spending time with my friends and family, going to movies, writing, and listening to music. I'm charming, funny, kind, passionate, smart, pretty, well-endowed, artistic, well read, and romantic.
My friends are constantly telling me all the above things, of course. How wonderful I am. How great of a catch I am. How I'm going to meet a guy one day and it'll be absolutely perfect- yet, here I am, as single as a one dollar bill.
It hasn't always been this way, of course. I've had my fair share of dates, and a handful of boyfriends. But, well, they've all failed somewhat miserably. I'll do a quick recap of my dating history, so you know where I'm coming from. I've dated:
- A boy with racist parents, who threatened to move him back to his hometown just for dating me, a black girl.
- A boy who later turned out to be homosexual.
- A boy, whom from the very start, was planning to break up with me because he was in love with someone else- God. We ended things for him to go into the Priesthood, but six months later, it turned out that he was also homosexual. He is now my very best friend.
- A playwright from Seattle, whom I had a long distance relationship with and found out after I had lost my virginity to him that he had a girlfriend in town the whole time. He later left us both (me and the girlfriend that he had cheated on to be with me) for his best friend, whom he was apparently in love with all along. Right.
- A travelling musician, whom gave me his number after one of his shows. We had an amazing night together (yes, it was PG...well, okay, maybe R-rated), tried to keep in touch, but I ended things with him upon realizing that I didn't want a boyfriend who likely slept with other women on a nightly basis and would only be in town once a year.
And of course, a handful of others that simply aren't amusing enough to bother mentioning.
So, considering my dating history above, you can see why I was a bit weary to date anyone. I mean, the last two guys, alone, were in 2009- and I also casually dated a handful of others that ended in epic failure. But, my friend, Joe, told me over sushi that my problem is that I simply commit too fast and that I don't date enough. I settle for the first guy that comes along, forgetting all the other shiny, multi-colored fish in the sea that I could be swimming with.
He could be right. Hell if I know. Obviously, if I knew why I fail at dating, I'd fix it and be happily married right now. But I digress.
So, right there, at the sushi bar, Joe dared me to the challenge of my life: There's 52 weeks in a year. I would go on a date with a new guy each week. 52 dates. 52 different guys. No commitments whatsoever. I could re-date a guy, if I was interested in him, but he couldn't count as one of the 52 again. I added my own rule: nothing physical either, besides kissing (because, come on- even if I cut the number in half, 26 guys in a year is DISGUSTING. And I'm many things, but not quite that kind of girl).
Upon starting this blog and looking for domain names, I realized that this idea has been before. However- no one has been successful, as far as I can tell. The other daters stopped at date 18, or so, and never updated again. And maybe I won't be successful either- it's only week one and I'm already getting cold feet. But I feel like I have to do this.
First of all, I've already told tons of people about it, and I'm going to feel really embarassed come February when I haven't already gone on at least 5 dates. Secondly, as Joe (who has officially become my "dating coach") pointed out- this is a great chance for me to scour the "sea" and find what guys there may or may not be for me. And third, if all else fails, and I make it to the end of the year and still don't have the man of my dreams, I've still successfully finished something and I have a feeling this blog could be published into a book and made into a movie. And then I'll be famous, and won't have to worry about being single, because I'll be going to bed in my fancy mansion every night and my bags of money will keep me adequate company and won't leave the toilet seat up.
Er...after all, the woman who wrote Julie & Julia did it. Why can't I?
So here we go. Date numero uno is on Saturday. I'll post about it Sunday. And so it goes. Wish me luck, and if you know any guys (they must be at least 21, and of course, single), send them my way. I only need 51 more to make it to the end of the year.
-Serial Dater, Britt
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