And the needle skipped right about...here.

So in order to connect with the Universe, I decided that I would dance around my house in my pajamas in order to forget the infamous No. 22 and That Guy I Dated for Five Years. I learned many things while I was dancing around in my apartment. I learned - as I shook it to the east, shook it to the west, and shook it to my sofa which I love the best - the following: 1. No one validates me but myself. 2. Adam Levine's voice is a pretty much guaranteed panty-dropper. 3. Not dating means I don't have to ladyscape. 4. I should probably ladyscape. This is all very cerebral. My brain really hurts. What happened to the funny me? The one who wrote such poignant and memorable posts about how No. 23 made the angels weep when he was born (Um, that love of my life is now engaged. What is the Universe trying to tell me?)? I mean, I've had the great misfortune of dating some pretty good-looking guys. That was the pro. The con? All of these boys were complete and utter emotionally detached males with rather large egos. Two tried to make me feel better by "apologizing" (Men? Maybe you should stop apologizing, because it only leaves fodder for someone like myself to put you on blast until she gets it out of her system.), and one just kinda' sorta' had a "Come to Jesus" moment and got engaged. I hate it when men finally have their "Come to Jesus" moments. It's like emotional AA without the alcohol, and we know that's no good. So let's just kick back and wait to see how long it takes for No. 22 to be locked down in a serious relationship or become engaged. Men always become engaged after they have their Come to Jesus moments. Ugh.