So at first I thought it was just an ironic, and kinda sweet and helpful coincidence that all the Facebook ads to the right of my page are about dating web sites. There were even a few that I, though I am loathe to admit it, clicked on to check out. You know, feel the vibes of the people that belonged to the site. Or whatever. The guys in the ads are always cute, but the actual users of the service….meh. But now I’m also seeing these ads for “Big and Beautiful Singles,” and I’m like, hey Facebook….are you looking at my pictures or something? Please stop twisting the knife! Facebook does seem to know a lot about me, though. The rest of the ads are usually about cute animals, writing, or my national problem with gambling. But, for the most part, these ads are mocking how fatally single I am.
Yeah, my life is peachy. I’m still single. Living with my mom. And like 10 percent of Californians, I still dont have a job. I’ve decided to make it a New Years Resolution to get one. I mean, its March and all, so its about time I made some resolutions. Yeah, I’m going to resolve to do something. Maybe. I dont know. I usually do better with predictions. For example, I predict that at least one more time this year, I will again make the mistake of cutting bangs, and then immediately regret my decision. I predict I will gain exactly three pounds, due to the three pound bag of conversation hearts candy my best friend sent me from a candy shop in New York. I predict I will be number one in all activities on Wii Fit, since I stay home all day in my pajamas and try to beat my family at everything. I predict that late one night, I will write missed connections on Craigslist for all those guys I fell in love with in college. I predict I will go another year without getting CPR certified like I keep meaning to, or learning how to sew, or conversational French, or finish that one keychain lanyard I’ve been working on since like the 6th grade.
I’m also going to try a reverse-psychology approach to my New Years predicalutions. They say that the moment you stop wanting a boyfriend, you meet Mr. Right. But maybe this strategery is being overused in the universe. So I’m going to…dun dun duuuunnn….PREDICTASOLVE that I will be single throughout all of 2009. Take THAT, universe. I double dare you to prove me wrong. Actually I dont even really want a boyfriend. I would just like someone to hold my hand and pay for dinner. So I take it back. I predict no one will hold my hand, except in prayer circle, until at least 2010. Haha oh man I sound creepy.
I predict I will turn 25 on April 28. I also predict I will cry at least once that day. 25 seems unbearably old for someone who is seriously considering running away to Disneyland to live either on Mark Twain island or the Jungle Cruise river. Ironically, I made similar plans to run away to Disneyland and work there as a street sweeper, eventually working my way up the Disney ladder until I was Belle in the parade, when I was in fifth grade, with my then best friend Amy, who just served me a delicious caramel frappaccino at the Starbucks inside our neighborhood Safeway. Back in our elementary school days, when we thought we had it oh so very hard in life, we concocted this very secret, very elaborate plan to run away to Disneyland, with a budget spreadsheet for the one hundred and twelve dollars we had saved in my giant purple crayon bank, and a working timeline and everything. We really thought we could hitchhike safely to a place neither of us could point to on a map, and then upon arrival, lie and say we were 16 and get hired. The plans were made in purple marker on construction paper. For some reason, it never worked out. But….maybe this year will be different. I can always wish upon a star.