I have been on so many dates lately. It seems that everyone I know thinks that I need to be married off, for fear that I will end up an old maid, so they are all setting me up with, seemingly, every single man in this city. The funny thing is that I am only twenty-eight years old. I am not exactly beyond the marrying age quite yet.

I love them all for caring and trying, but I am sure when it is meant to be, Mr. Right will find himself somewhere along my path in life. I know that they all have good intentions, but I don’t know how much more I can handle. There is always something wrong with them.

I’ve had a few that talked about themselves all night and never let me get in a word edgewise, a few that wore so much cologne that I spent most of the date holding my breath and a few that could not hold an intelligent conversation for the life of them. I have met some really nice young men, too, but there was just no romantic chemistry. In the end, though, I have made some good friends and I will wait for love to happen on its own.