“Keep Breaking Your Heart Till it Opens Up.”

My friend told me that in consolation for yet another failed attempt at love. And by love, I mean wanting the cute boy to pay attention to me.

First though, I apologize for my absence. After traveling down to San Diego for a month of filming, I have returned to Los Angeles, I am in between films and have time to sit down and gab about the adventures in singledom I have experienced.

My English teachers always told me a good way to make a point is to give three examples. Here are my three.

Last I left you, I had gone out with Mr. Fourth date. Well, Mr. 4th date turned into a jerk and stopped returning phone calls because I wouldn’t sleep with him. If that was his only intention, then I am glad not to talk to him. I’m frustrated with myself because usually I can read character pretty well, and I completely misread this guy. Thinking his intentions were much more pure, I emotionally let him in too quickly. But he was kinda short, so I’m better off anyway.

Then, traveling to San Diego, I was excited at the prospect of an on set crush. You always get them, and it usually is on a “best available” basis. In the real world, the guy may be a 6, but on the set, and in comparison to the other guys, he’s a 9. So I met mine. I labeled “The Steed” (seeing as I would like to ride that) showed up to work. Tall, dark and handsome, I made sure I wore mascara to work. There was a spark. People were whispering about us. But it turned out to be just a simple case on an on set crush, and after we wrapped nothing came of our flirtations. My hopes were up, but I’m not crying over this one.

And finally, returning to LA, I met and connected to a young, hot, artist, whom I met through mutual friends. Hanging out, going on adventures in Chinatown, whispering at parties, elbow touches, drink buying - all of the usual dance moves in the flirtation cha-cha. Oh yeah, and he was incredible hot.

And I wish I had an amazing ending to this story, but two nights ago, I was once again disappointed in the dumbness and lameness of boys. After yet another great night out on the town, Mr. Hot Artist turned into Mr. Obnoxious Drunk and ended up ditching me and leaving with some American Apparel model wannabe. Honestly, I think I’m more disappointed in his total lack of taste in girls, than in the fact he doesn’t like me that way. She was tre’ annoying.

Sucks, I know.

In conclusion, those are three examples of how my heart has been broken in these past weeks. But I am confident that all this disappointment and heartache will only make it more awesome when I finally find someone who does indeed love me. And until that day comes…

- the single one