Ketch-up

So, I am apparently not quite sticking to my resolution of updating my blog multiple times per week. This could easily be blamed on my procrasturbation tendencies, or more so that I never feel quite productive when I'm at my own house. I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but even in college, being in a residence that I associate with sleeping, eating, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and (besides my parents house) having the occasional romp in the sack, just doesn't equate with productivity and working in my mind. So, this requires me to make the effort to get out of my house and go to one of the 9 million Starbucks establishments that litter the continent. Which can be tricky because I like the sit and write for sometimes around an hour, but for some reason the Starbucks think its trendy and hip to close at 8, and the only one close enough to my house that stays open until 10 has only two outlets for me to plug my computer into, which are always occupied by Japanese girls on their macbooks. That's not being racist, it's being observant. Add to this the fact that I feel like I have to make myself presentable before I go to a coffee shop because I am just convinced in my mind that I will meet an attractive stranger, proceed to make sexy eyes at each other, and later go home to check missed connections to find the add that reads "cute ginger in the tight jeans," and then finally have a relationship for the first time in eons.......well, it's just HARD.

Speaking of "missed connections", I sometimes peruse it for my own enjoyment and have made an observation of most people's attempts to avoid impostors in their quest to find their potential one true love they checked out in an Arby's parking lot. They make it an absolutely ridiculous quiz.

i.e. "To the cute guy I saw in the whole foods. I think you're really hot and have great style, would love to meet up and talk more. Message me back and tell me what three different kinds of organic produce were in my canvas satchel and we can set something up. xoxoxo"

Seriously, if it's not something as ridiculous as that it isn't far from. I think I one time saw one that asked the person being sought to give his license plate numbers in order to get the chance to meet up with the seeker. Okay....I couldn't even tell you what I had for dinner last night, let alone tell you what brand of white bread you were holding when you checked out my package. This is why you're single and trying to mend unrequited love through craigslist, for chrissakes.

And obviously I'm single because I mock you for it.

What happened to romance goddamit? What happened to love letters and gentleman callers and lighting someone's cigarettes? What happened to telling someone you wanted to sleep with them when you were actually in their presence?!

So we can't find a solution to save polar bears from drowning but we can spend the time to make an application to tell us how close the nearest gay guy is to us, whose name is punkrboi69 and is "down to party, get drinks, and whatever lol"

For shame, America.