It’s official. My JDate membership has ended. So of course, after months of silence from the JDate men, someone contacted me today. Now that I can’t see who it was. I’ll never know. I can’t IM anyone, and all I get are those frustratingly unoriginal, bereft-of-any-creativity “teases,” even though I’ve expressly requested that interested gentleman callers say something of their own instead of opting to “tease” me with inappropriate words. Damn this all to hell.

I’m itchy, and twitchy, and restless. Can’t get comfortable, like an addict in withdrawal. Except that being addicted to JDate never felt that euphoric to begin with. It’s been more of a habit than an in-your-blood-and-every-fiber-of-your-being addiction. But I’m definitely ready for a break. The first 24 hours is probably going to be the hardest. After that, it’s all downhill. Which was pretty much my experience on JDate to begin with. (Negative enough for ya?)

Whatever. I’ll keep up my therapy by coming here, and I urge you all to do the same. Send me your huddled stories, yearning to breathe free, and I shall release them into the ether–they will plague you no more, and we will embrace you in support.

As Dionne, Elton and um…other people sang, that’s what blogs are for. Or something like that.