Bring it, boys.









I gave my new, untouched Match profile to a good friend who has had nothing short of AMAZING success from her own Match experience. She is so well-versed in this, another friend of ours put this successful lass in charge of her own profile, and I have since attended her wedding to her Match. Amazing. So what do I have to lose? You’re hired. Because God knows I don’t have the wherewithal.

Not really thinking it through, or buzzed from an adequate amount of pinot, I gave my username and password away. I woke up to said awesome lady’s note:

She:“Ok, so I winked at like 7 guys …”
She: “If any of these guys I winked at reach out to you – you MUST respond. Deal?”
Me: [Christ on a cracker…]

It’s only been 24 hours of relinquishing control, something I’m supremely uncomfortable with. Like…sweaty, pulsating, throbbing eyeball uncomfortable.

But if anything, it’s a huge much-needed ego boost. For the last several days, I’ve been feeling as though I live at 3421 Rejection Street, Apt #1. Domino’s delivers here.

I loved getting an email from my new Match General Manager with a “DAMN GIRL! Have you seen your inbox?” followed by a scale of 1-10 on my new potential beaus. Today is a good day.


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