I never cared too much for love.  It was all a bunch of mush that I just did not want.  But this morning, I woke up to reality and found the future not so bright.

In my early thirties, I’m coming to terms with the fact that your cake doesn’t always turn out the way you hoped.  But that doesn’t mean we have to settle for crumbs.

As I get ready to blow out another candle, I’m reminded that I’m not so unique I should be spared experiences other people must endure.

Cry me a river.  Build me a bridge.  I’m basically over it.

I just find myself pondering a rather thought-provoking question that I conceived of by sarcastically putting a spin on a popular phrase:  You are what you eat, but what’s eating at you?

To borrow a few more lyrics (you’ll notice I do that a lot too), I think Whitney Houston put it best:

Each day I play the role of someone always in control.  But at night, I come home and turn the key.  There’s nobody there.  No one cares for me.  What’s the sense of trying hard to find your dreams?  Without someone to share it with, tell me what does it mean?

Living Single has been the theme song of my so-called life and that’s been fun, but I’m finally ready for a spin-off.  We’ll call it “Real Love.”  Someone to set my heart free.

As the late Beatrice Arthur once said (playing the role of Dorothy Zbornak on the sitcom The Golden Girls), “If you take a chance in life, sometimes good things happen.  Sometimes bad things happen.  But, honey, if you don’t take a chance, nothing happens.”

I’m ready to take a chance.  After all, one really is the loneliest number.