Around the Marn in 80 days
I’ve never been one of those need-a-man girls. I barely dated in high school and college because I had so many other interests besides stupid assholes. When I announced I was engaged at the age of 26, my friends were in awe. The person least likely to… was. It was no shock to most when I separated. My mother consoled me by saying, “Your father and I were probably not good relationship role models.” Of course, two weeks later she was asking my brother if I was a lesbian.
My relationship with RC ended a couple weeks ago. It was another short-lived (but long in Hollywood dog years) connection that resulted in me reciting my mantra “trust your instincts.” I knew I shouldn’t of gone out with a man who was openly separated, but I figured that after nearly a year, the end had to be in sight. Unfortunately, the drama swirled. Being a great guy didn’t out weigh the obvious negatives: nutbag wife, little kid commitments, unavailability, and distance.
A great friend from college says, “Marna, men are all assholes, you just have to find one you can put up with.” It is so easy being single in LA because the choices are…limited, at least in my circles. Besides, a fresh crop of girls with perky tits turns 18 each year.
I’ve lived in LA nearly four years now and I haven’t had a relationship last longer than 80 days. It’s a hard place to date, but I’m also committed to not dating the wrong people. That means I’ll have a lot of trial and error. Relationships are hard work, especially if you are looking for the right asshole.
It’s been more than 12 years since my divorce was finalized and I’ve enjoyed dating a wide variety of men ever since. My mother still checks in with various people to determine if I’ve “gone gay” yet. Don’t worry mom, I’m still tragically heterosexual.