Following our most recent trip to Puerto Rico I discovered my second favorite thing in this world, and it is the world. But through the eyes of Megan Gittings. She runs another blog called Essence of Sparkle and it is full of eloquent writing that puts my basic use of the english language to shame, but tomato/potato. So after this trip we have decided in the future to collaborate here on Bohemia Chronicles. It will now be a two person show. Call her the Yin to my Yang and the Simon to my Garfunkel, whatever comedic or complimentary pair you want but we are now here to provide two wonderful views while we travel and live our daily lives.
“You’re seeing someone now aren’t you?”, says this old, gay man with a southern drawl that you can see, is reading my palm. “Kind of, it’s nothing serious though.” Is my response, attempting to not give away any signs.
“Is it a woman?”
“No.” But I understand how he could mistake me for lesbian.
“Odd, I’m picking up an incredibly feminine energy, that usually only happens with lesbians, transexuals, or people that have daughters.” Okay sir, so your first bet was that I too, was gay? (not that it’s a bad thing, but in my love life the last thing I need is the male gender to think I’m not pitching to their team)
“So this gentleman, he has a daughter, young though. Both of them. He’s a young parent.” Well, yes and yes. But then again I’m not running around looking for DILF’s and sugar daddies.
“Well honey, I sense that since you’re a Taurus, and you like stability, this one will be the one, give it two to three years, y’all gon’ elope.” This was one of the things that started out right but ended so wrong.
I was just starting to see someone at the time, he has a daughter, and they are both young. Again I found myself in the pitfalls of modern dating, which for me is a song and dance that don’t quite go together. Without getting into a crazy amount of detail, this guy I was seeing was essentially, a loser. Not one ounce of ambition, not a glimmer of intelligence, and an alcohol bill that could make the vikings shudder. Were there good things about him? Of course, he was clever and funny, but that doesn’t pay the bills and it doesn’t keep me around, not since I discovered pandora plays stand-up comedy. So I, in typical Shannon fashion, ruined it and decided to stop all communication. Which is probably the best way to handle things, if not the most efficient.
Sadly they say technology has supposedly made it easier for people to date and learn about each other, swipe left for no and right for yes and up for hell yeah. So easy a monkey could figure it out, but everytime my hopeless romantic self jumps on these sites I find that it just lowers my faith in….well mostly in my generation, and men. The act of having to scan through all the eligible bachelors within a hundred mile radius, isn’t exhausting, it’s just something that really lowers one’s hopefulness in finding the right person because here they all are and they use the following words to describe themselves.
-6’5 because that apparently matters here
-Just checking this out.
And my personal favorite, a blank biography. Just one or two pictures of him, one usually in a suit and the other photo being an overly candid photo where he’s looking out onto a lake, or beach, or mountain.To the men that do this I must ask, why? What are you wistfully looking at in the distance? Who has that reeled in so far? Regardless, my dating life is like a broken revolving door, they come into my life, get stuck a little, and they go out as quickly as they came and I like it that way. It’s temporary companionship and for a couple of weeks, I wake up to a daily good morning text, I get treated to dinner and movies, and then just as it becomes a routine, I drop it. Onto something new, just the way I like it. So this is the first of many Things The Fortune Teller Was Wrong About. Let’s see how many other things go horribly wrong.