Write round

This is my ode to sex in the city and everything Carrie Bradshaw, minus the revolving door of men, hats and designer clothes. What that really means is that most of the time I'm out living life and then when it gets a little confusing I try to figure out my thoughts for strangers to read. I've been doing a lot of ponder, as per usual, regarding the places in life that are broken, confusing and really I suppose just out of my control. I've decided that dating is not a game you play if you live your life by the Golden Rule. It seems anytime I treat people the way I would like to be treated I end up still single. Not that, that is always bad, I've dodged a hell of a lot of bullets. And I'm super thankful. Which leads me to my second point.. I don't think I'm savy enough to play the dating game/ be a serial dater. Well I'd give the second one the old college try, but damn the rest is too exhausting and complicated. So I don't know. And I mean that very literally. I'm lost. I'm anxious. I should be sleeping. This is one of those things that goes unresolved. I have no desire to control human behavior, but I suppose I desperately try to make sense of it. People act within a patter of behavior, and when I don't know that pattern, life just throws me for a loop. So I'm still writing, still figuring out and still not sure what's next or how to fix the broken places. I'm tired of the song and dance. I was hoping for a life filled with passion. I'm not sure if every misstep is forward or back. Am I just weeding out the unlikely's or getting further from the mark? I'm trying to make sure I don't whine. I'm probably having an epic fail. I think mainly this is the blog that never ends because the finality really puts it all out there.