Bring On the Unicorns and Leprechauns

It’s not often that you pose a theoretical question and then immediately find it realized in a practical situation. But one thing I’ve learned about God, the universe, and everything that you might call it: it has a sense of humor. I, however, was not in the mood for its pranks as I stumbled blindly towards my bed where I collapsed facedown after a day that started at six in the morning, included losing my MetroCard, performing a resurrection on my phone, and ended with a beer (or two) too many and an ill-advised shot of…something brown and gut-punching. But while my body was begging for sleep and had in fact shut down somewhere near the bottom of my building’s stairs, my brain would not shut off for shit. I lay there, with my face smushed into the pillow, not even caring that I’d probably have raccoon eyes in the morning from the mascara I hadn’t washed off, and mentally ran through the entire night. And I kept coming back to the same question: what the fuck just happened…or more accurately,didn’t happen? Why was I crash-landed in my bed all alone when every signal I could possibly send was flashing green-light go?

I have to say one thing about myself: I may be an epic fuckup when it comes to finding a good man, holding out for the best, and any of those other qualities that lead some women into healthy relationships with men that respect them…but when it comes to getting a guy to take me home, my average rarely dips below an impressive .900. Yet after a night out with a guy who was receiving the full brunt of my feminine prowess and somehow, I found myself stumbling back to the bench; alone. It’s like he pulled some crazy Mariano Rivera shit. The night was going great, we were having fun, I had my eye on the prize, and then BAM, like a cutter it was there and then it was gone. I swung over the top and Frank Sinatra played me home. Yes, I realize that was a super-involved sports/sex metaphor, but after the Super Bowl, I start counting down to spring training.

(continue)