Ho-hum, humbug.

I was invited to 13 weddings this summer. I’m only going to one, and that one was yesterday. Congratulations to my friend Kayla Stout–err, Kayla Weidert. Chris seems like a great guy, and you two make a great couple. I wish you all the best!

That being said, weddings make me uncomfortable. That may be unmanly or overly sensitive of me or whatever, but they do. Don’t get me wrong, I like them. They’re great, because you get to see two people in love stand in front of their family and friends and make a promise. That’s just plain awesome.

But…

I sit there (by myself) and I’m reminded–again–that I haven’t even had a second date since…well, ever, really. At this rate… well, let’s just say I should probably get another pet, another hobby–something. I’m out of ideas. All I can do is continue to work on myself, and my relationship with God. Then again, that’s what I’ve been doing for quite some time now. Whatever.

Last week, I picked up one of my all-time favorite pieces of literature–Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. Sadly, the more I think about it, the more similarities I see between Cyrano and myself. No, seriously… we even have the same birthday. How messed up is that? If that’s not bad karma, I don’t know what is.

Cyrano, signing out.

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