Alicia here. Fortunately/unfortunately, the rest of the 50/50 story can’t be wrapped up in one blog-post of “what happened next?” Saddle up, friends – much like the inspiration for this posts’ title, the rest of the story will be going for a little bit longer. Plus, Megs will still be telling her tales from the road (holy smokes, I can’t wait to hear what she says about Idaho…). Let’s get back to the tale.
Where were we?
Ah yes, I remember. I had just finished 50 first dates in 50 states, and despite what I thought to have become learned in the process, I managed to walk straight into not just one but two rather unsavory un-relationship situations single file (with Adam and Utah) immediately upon my return. Coupled with the fact that the people I’d connected with on the road were not only far away but not able to drop everything meet up again (totally fair), along with the continuing kidney saga, I began wondering if an unshakeable sense of ennui was peeping over my shoulder too. No bueno.
What I lacked in relationship status updates and 100% health, I made up for in a good 60 hours of pure wallowing. After tears, long runs to release frustration, and a lot of grits-as-comfort food, I thought about what my advice to myself would be. It took about two seconds to flip open my laptop and log into OkCupid, pausing only to pinky-promise with myself that I would not look to see if ex’s were perusing their mate-options as well* and began tweaking my profile. Walking my own talk was being served to me on a silver platter.
Time to go dating the old fashioned way: sans Megan, sans cameras, and now complete with the fact that I’d have to tell every person I went out with that I’d been on 50 first dates.
*Seriously, don’t do this. It never makes you feel good. Yes, we all know you’ve figured out how to see pieces of your ex’s profile without looking at it (and no, if you don’t know I will in fact not tell you how) and despite your cunning ways, it’s still not a viable option for keeping calm and carrying on.