Hi - My Name is Shelby
Well, that's me. My hair may be an inch longer, and I definitely lightened it, but for what it's worth, that is me.
Let me give you some foundation before I go rattling off examples of how I'm dead inside. My rommie/bestie Paul and I have been spending an exorbitant amount of time alone together. I am an extremely social person, but I have noticed that my friendship circle has gotten smaller, mostly due to engagements, marriages, and babies. Paul has noticed the same thing. The party is over, which is fine by me because quite frankly, the party isn't that much fun anymore.
Paul and I have both come to the conclusion that we should probably start actively dating again which is really UUUGGGHHHH for me. I detest dating. Revolting. I like people and learning new things, but... You know what I'm saying. Especially if you read 30dates30blogs. It's too much effort.
In order to force ourselves to attempt to be part of society, Paul and I have decided to start The AMATING Race.
Here are the RULES as far as I can tell:
1) Paul and I are on a quest to find love. The first one who finds it, wins The AMATING Race.
2) BUT - If your opponent sets you up with someone whom you fall in love with, then THEY win. (ex. If I set up Paul with a dude and he falls in love with that dude, then I'm the victor, and vice versa.)
3) You have to sustain a relationship for 6 months to win the race. All the while, your opponent is still free to go have drinks with guys that he/she hopes to never see again.
4) All rules are subject to change.
As you will quickly learn, this blog will be an open forum for both of us. Paul can post when he wants, and the same goes for me. I also encourage you to to pick me as your favorite, and give me leads. You can contact me at shelbyamatingrace@gmail.com. Want to set me up? Great. Email me. Want to set Paul up? Great. Email me, and I'll set him up.
I honestly think the only way I'll win is if I set Paul up with a love. As I said before, I'm convinced I'm dead inside. Not completely dead. I like to laugh, and flirt, and all of that business, but I'm not impressed by anything anymore.
It's probably an urban legend, but have you ever heard that dogs are born with a predestined amount of heartbeats and as soon as their heart hits the last beat, DEAD. Dead as a doornail. Sounds suspicious to me too, but I'm going to use it as an analogy, nonetheless.
I have had many loves. Loved and lost, acted a fool. Been the dumper and the dumpee. I've had those relationships that were hot and heavy and then all of a sudden fizzled, and you're just left there with your hands in the air sighing, "What happened?" I've had the hard sell with an even harder letdown. I've experienced unrequited love, heartache, sheer bliss, stupidity, awful decisions clouded by passion... Been through it all, I tell ya. And I think I hit my last heartbeat about three years ago. Dead. Dead as a doornail.
I am not complaining. There are many advantages to being dead inside. Everything is seen through a filter of meh, so you rarely get taken for a ride. It's grounding.
My friends, Paul included, disagree and think that once I meet the right gentleman, it will be like being hit by a defibrillator. I don't know what to say. All I know is that Paul, unlike me, is open to all things love and still has hope that "the one" exists. I think that my "the one" died already. Thanks a lot "the one."
Honestly, I could rattle on and on, but I'm not going to. I need material for more blogs. I am dreading getting back online, but in this situation, it is a must. That should make you 30dates30bloggers a little excited. YAY! We get to have strange men write strange things to me and I'll report back here to tell you all about it.
But what I'd love is if everyone would really stretch their resources to find men for me to date and men for me to set Paul up with to date. It adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole situation, don't you think?
Contact me here: shelbyamatingrace@gmail.com
Jesus Christ, we're doing this.
Let me give you some foundation before I go rattling off examples of how I'm dead inside. My rommie/bestie Paul and I have been spending an exorbitant amount of time alone together. I am an extremely social person, but I have noticed that my friendship circle has gotten smaller, mostly due to engagements, marriages, and babies. Paul has noticed the same thing. The party is over, which is fine by me because quite frankly, the party isn't that much fun anymore.
Paul and I have both come to the conclusion that we should probably start actively dating again which is really UUUGGGHHHH for me. I detest dating. Revolting. I like people and learning new things, but... You know what I'm saying. Especially if you read 30dates30blogs. It's too much effort.
In order to force ourselves to attempt to be part of society, Paul and I have decided to start The AMATING Race.
Here are the RULES as far as I can tell:
1) Paul and I are on a quest to find love. The first one who finds it, wins The AMATING Race.
2) BUT - If your opponent sets you up with someone whom you fall in love with, then THEY win. (ex. If I set up Paul with a dude and he falls in love with that dude, then I'm the victor, and vice versa.)
3) You have to sustain a relationship for 6 months to win the race. All the while, your opponent is still free to go have drinks with guys that he/she hopes to never see again.
4) All rules are subject to change.
As you will quickly learn, this blog will be an open forum for both of us. Paul can post when he wants, and the same goes for me. I also encourage you to to pick me as your favorite, and give me leads. You can contact me at shelbyamatingrace@gmail.com. Want to set me up? Great. Email me. Want to set Paul up? Great. Email me, and I'll set him up.
I honestly think the only way I'll win is if I set Paul up with a love. As I said before, I'm convinced I'm dead inside. Not completely dead. I like to laugh, and flirt, and all of that business, but I'm not impressed by anything anymore.
It's probably an urban legend, but have you ever heard that dogs are born with a predestined amount of heartbeats and as soon as their heart hits the last beat, DEAD. Dead as a doornail. Sounds suspicious to me too, but I'm going to use it as an analogy, nonetheless.
I have had many loves. Loved and lost, acted a fool. Been the dumper and the dumpee. I've had those relationships that were hot and heavy and then all of a sudden fizzled, and you're just left there with your hands in the air sighing, "What happened?" I've had the hard sell with an even harder letdown. I've experienced unrequited love, heartache, sheer bliss, stupidity, awful decisions clouded by passion... Been through it all, I tell ya. And I think I hit my last heartbeat about three years ago. Dead. Dead as a doornail.
I am not complaining. There are many advantages to being dead inside. Everything is seen through a filter of meh, so you rarely get taken for a ride. It's grounding.
My friends, Paul included, disagree and think that once I meet the right gentleman, it will be like being hit by a defibrillator. I don't know what to say. All I know is that Paul, unlike me, is open to all things love and still has hope that "the one" exists. I think that my "the one" died already. Thanks a lot "the one."
Honestly, I could rattle on and on, but I'm not going to. I need material for more blogs. I am dreading getting back online, but in this situation, it is a must. That should make you 30dates30bloggers a little excited. YAY! We get to have strange men write strange things to me and I'll report back here to tell you all about it.
But what I'd love is if everyone would really stretch their resources to find men for me to date and men for me to set Paul up with to date. It adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole situation, don't you think?
Contact me here: shelbyamatingrace@gmail.com
Jesus Christ, we're doing this.
posted by The AMATING Race @ 4:38 PM
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