One of my fellow bloggers and twitter friends has an installment on her site, which are letters to her future husband.

That’s not what I’m going to do here (that would be stealing….sorta). As much as I love the idea of writing stuff down and putting it out there in the world, the letter I want to write will indeed be read by it’s intended recipient.

SIDEBAR: My one and only letter to a future husband would read something like this:  Wow, you aren’t a douche bag, which is kind of nice. Ring size 6.

This letter is meant for YOU. Yup, you !

        Dear my lovely, messed up, crazy bunch of readers,

I was thinking about you today, as I was gasping for breath at the gym. You see my friend ‘Babs’ is always yelling at me when we go out about how there are certain stories I have not shared with you.(‘Babs’ doesn’t really yell, but the conversations comes up once we are sauced, thus, she speaks about 3 octaves above her normal voice.)

Since I don’t know your ring size as a collective, I thought I would give you this promise ‘letter’. Feel free to print it out and wrap it around your finger, and think pleasant thoughts about me!

I, Lost Plum, promise to provide you with more blog posts that fall under the ‘a long-long time ago!’ category, and bring some stories out the closet.          ~L.P

GOAL: I’ll try to keep the humour on the down low because I keep getting comments, emails, and twitter messages about people reading and spitting up all over their screens. I feel bad about the possibility of wrecking others computers. 

FACT: Mama plum always says “yeah but EVERYONE has a blog, that’s nothing special!” So using the term ‘a fellow blogger’ is something she wouldn’t approve of, because I might as well say a fellow human being.

So, I like countless other singles turn to our one true friend to help out. We turn to the one who is always there for us, who seems to always solves our problems: the Internet!

We jump on the information superhighway, and start cruising for cute hitchhikers!

Now, I’ve checked out a lot of online sites, have countless accounts (not always active), and have had my share of pleasant experiences. But let’s be honest for a minute, we’re talking about me here, so I’ve had MORE then my fair share of Bad experiences!

SIDEBAR: I got stood up by my first 6 Internet dates. SIX! Number 7 was the first to ever show, and despite a lot of things that gained him major points!

Sites that fit a niche fascinate me. Ones designed for a specific type of person, interested in specific things. In fact I search them out, and read content, it’s actually very fascinating.

GOAL: to find the site with guys who like hockey watching, beer drinking, funny girls in glasses…(It’s only a matter of time)

So I explore the Internet more because it fascinates me. What people write in order to get a match get my brain moving, gyrating, and hopefully laughing.

On that note, is it wrong for me to laugh at and enjoy one of my new favorite online relationship and dating sites? Love in the Dumps.

Love in the Dumps is for those of us that don’t only have the (mis)fortune of being single and have no one to really blame but ourselves, and we’re cool with that! It is a wonderful site filled with fun off beat advice, cool musing of singledom (or singledoom), and quirky quips of being single or ‘in the dumps’. It’s a place where I just might meet mr.wrong, who when mixed with all my wrong, we just might create a Right!

eHarmony has ads on television that claims to not be a dating site, but a relationship site that will match people on the deepest foundations of compatibility. Really, LITD is no different. Not only can you read all their neat-o stuff but you can sign up in their personals section, oh pardon me, their impersonals section.  There you can compare each others ‘deepest’ compatibilities. Like your shared love of Ambian and/or Adderol, or your relationship exit strategy history/weapon of choice.

Cause at the end of the day making your relationship shortcomings public is just another nail in the already full of nails proverbial coffin that most of us live in.

So grab your hammers and start whacking….just don’t forget to laugh as you do it!

(at yourself, and maybe at others)

FACT: eHarmony didn’t except me, they didn’t exactly turn me down, just said that my chances of finding a mate in the NYC area were pretty much slim to slit your wrists now…

(reason #___why I’m single: not even a single person on LITD has contacted me/liked my profile)

However, I started thinking, is it really just my need for stimulation that makes the idea of laying in the sun as I burn on years to my appearance, or is there something else?

I’m on a bachelorette getaway weekend so of course thoughts and talk of boys, men, love, and relationships are on the tips of everyone’s tongues…well mostly mine, plus it’s 8 girls what else are we going to talk about….

After everyone spoke of relationship trips past, and we sat talking and laughing in our big beds in our beautiful room as the waves crashed against the beach outside it dawned on me….

I’ve never been on a vacation with a boy!

Sure I’ve done a few road trips but those were always had with a purpose in mind. (someone was moving..blah blah blah)

And I spent most of a summer traveling with a boyfriend’s band, but that wasn’t really a together trip. He did his commitments and I ventured through museums and saw lots of theatre. (this is the only group vacation with a boy I count because it was pretty high end travel…ie. wasn’t camping)

I’ve never been alone on a vacation with a boy.

Hell, I’ve never even taken a serious significant other to a wedding! HELL, I’ve never even gone as a significant others date to a wedding!

So, I wonder do I somewhat cringe at the thought of vacation getaways, and do I volunteer to work rather then take one because I’ve never really experienced one with someone I love (minus fun filled Plum Family holidays…. the love is over flowing on those)

Are holidays better when they are romantic? And in which case is that what a holiday is really for?

(reason #___why I’m single: Apparently no one wants to fly away with me!)

GOAL:  Get a better bikini body in order to change above.

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

But THIS is a first!

I wrote Wednesday about “Babyface” and his lack of even texting me back after our nice date in which he not only said he would but, made point of saying when he would do so by, and when we should hang out next. Wednesday late afternoon rolls around and I’m sitting doing some work at Bryant Park waiting to have dinner with a friend that night.

I get a text from “BabyFace”  <insert your shocked face here>

“I’m sending you an email”

Hmm, that’s funny. How did he get my email? In fact I don’t even think he even knows my last name. I shrug it off thinking he must of texted the wrong person, cause clearly we have already established he has no intent on contacting me again. I don’t text him back to ask about said questions running through my head cause

A: There is no point   and    B: That’s such a crazy girly thing to do!

So I’m sitting facebook stalking somewhat writing and reading when my phone give me that you have an email song and dance. It’s an email from my blog account email. Which is either love or hate, I tend to get more hate, but let’s see what we got.

My jaw hits the metal table!

It’s “BabyFace”! Wha what?!

Now without copy and pasting his email let me break it down for you. All 9 paragraphs I might add.  You see “BabyFace” reads this blog; in fact he has been reading it for more then two month now. In fact, he claims he and the guys at work love this little blog and me.  (aww..thanks boys!)

And that, I guess in the end THAT is the problem. (insert eye roll)

You see we meet on Saturday, had our date on Sunday and on Monday I posted about meeting him on Saturday. He assumed/figured it out that it was me then. Not through the blog story, because it wasn’t about him, more so the action taking place.  But he checked out my Twitter, and recognized the picture.  Or as he put it, “It was you. A much hotter version but you.”

(ouch!)

SO he didn’t text me back when I wrote him last Tuesday, and just basically dropped me. So, then Wednesday (a week later) rolls around and I do the “write him off” blog…..which all and all AGAIN wasn’t about him (ok maybe it was little about him, but not in a bad way! Just another guy to throw in the not interested in me pile kind of way)

He claims he doesn’t want to start something with me and have everyone read about it.  First off buddy, I don’t have like a million follows (I’m working on that), and second off if it’s someone who I’m interested in, involved in, or even serious in I don’t think I would write about them in any  manner that was unsuitable….well I would try at least. I don’t like hurting peoples feelings.

He wanted to clear the air because people had commented on my last post about him being a jerk. I’m sorry they did that. Clearly he isn’t. (or should I say you aren’t cause you apparently read me)

Clearly he is a PUSSY!

That’s right, a pussy! And here is why.  If he had been at all interested in me (which he claims….LIE) then he would have texted me back, in fact he had over a week to do so before the last blog post.  He could have asked me out for a drink, and come right out and asked me “Are you Lostplum…..I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that/this….”  And we could have discussed it. I don’t know if that would have made the situation better, or worse, or anything would have come out of it.  But he didn’t give it the consideration, and inturn wasn’t being considerate to me.

He ignored me in true pussy fashion!  And nobody likes a pussy!  (well when used in this way)

SIDEBAR: To the boys in the office, maybe he is nervous or scared about you guys finding out, doesn’t want to be embarrassed.  So what’s the one thing I could say about him to not embarrass him with his ‘boys’ after calling him a PUSSY (and a liar)  OH…I got it!  Most likely his penis is bigger then yours, and he defiantly knows how to use it!

FACT: My twitter picture is of me neither uber hung over (even a tad hung over) or of me with sex hair….so yeah it’s a hotter version then most see.

GOAL: For “BabyFace” To still read my blog after this….I mean you know you want to know what you are missing out on!!

I spent the working, talking, and with friends: just a great day. In fact, I didn’t even realize the date till I was walking home.

Today, some years ago I meet the only guy I have ever really loved! I talk alot about guys but mostly about the mistakes I make while with them and more so the mistakes I make while looking for them.

But no matter what there always will be Josh. The only boy I ever REALLY loved.

I use pet-names/fake names for almost everyone on here. In fact, most of you don’t even know my real name (that isn’t a challenge)

Yet, then there is Josh. He stands alone. He can never be characterized, and never be ‘named’. I can’t put him in that box. And I guess if I am frank about it I would say it doesn’t matter if I use his name. He is no longer with us and thus not reading this ever.

Although in true SIDEBAR fashion this is where I would say he is looking down now (and many many times over the years) and is shaking his head….but probably laughing at the same time! (let’s be honest I’m pretty easy to laugh at)

He is the reason I am guarded when it comes to men. The reason I know what I want, and keep on ridiculous searching for it. But most importantly the reason I am just plain ridiculous!

GOAL: I got to stop being so serious. All my fun loving readers in Denmark (who are catching up quick on my Dutch readers) will stop checking me out.

My mother came up with the stakes.  And hence why I need to win.

 Mum-moo: bragging rights, nagging rights, and full on making fun of rights till 2010.

Me-moo: Ok (laughs) but you do that anyways.

Mum-moo: Oh! I’ve been holding back, this is no holding back stuff.

Me-moo: (uncomfortable laugh) There some thing you want to say?!

Mum-moo: Your ass better watch it. Cause when my ass wins, your whole life better watch it!

Me-moo: My whole life? (laughs)

Mum-moo: Your dating life, your jobs, your clothes, your hair, everything! No holds barred. Watch it!

Me-moo: You’re on!

Mum-moo: Bring it!

Me-moo: Oh it’s already been broughten!

Mum-moo: that doesn’t even make sense…broughten? What?…….(continues to rant, nag, complain about my grammar usage for about an hour!)

FACT: my mother just might make me cry if I don’t do this.

GOAL: lose 25 pounds by July 12th!  Which was the goal by September 1.

(reason #___why I’m single: Apparently my mother knows, ask her. She’s been holding back!)

Walking home from tonight I had the most absurd encounter with an old woman. I was walking downtown and passing the starbucks near 115th and this elderly woman is saying “excuse me where is the closest bus stop?” to me. 

I was kind of thrown off. (Thrown off in that I live in New York and I’m so used to letting random comments like “got 50 cents, or give me food, or you look hot” just pass through me.)

So I ask her the most obvious question: “what bus do you need?”
To which she responds, “Down town, they are all the same”
So I point to the 114 corner and say there is “one right there,” and start to turn to leave.  To which I get a snap of her finger with a point down to her wheeling suitcase/backpack.

“My bag, take my bag!”

Again thrown off I think why not, I’ll be nice, maybe I will make up for the fact I have not bought a ‘homeless person anything from inside the starbucks since that homeless man tried to kill me in June. So I start to walk while rolling her bag, and then:

“Slow the fuck down you stupid Moron!”

Wait! What? Did she just call me a Moron? Who uses that term anyways? So I continue to walk a little slower, it’s only a block. However, she is complaining and being the biggest bitch the whole time. 

The only nice thing she said:
“You must be a student. What are you studying?”

To which I replied Theatre, and to which she then stated:
“Oh I thought so, you look like a stupid Moron.”

She then started screaming that the bus was coming up and for me to make sure he stopped. 
My inner thought: ‘ What the hell, its like three steps the driver can see you!”
So I stand at the bus door as she is walking up (slower then all hell) the whole time calling me names and being just a huge old bitter bitch!

As she gets to the door, I say: ” Here is your bag, have a good night.”

To which she replies: ” You are fucking useless! Put it on the fucking bus!”

And then….

“I just want to let you know that I don’t even know you, and I have…”(I was going to say, ‘been nice enough to carry your bag’, until she so rudely interrupted)

” Of course you don’t know me, I don’t have useless fucking morons as friends!”

To which I calmly reply: ” FUCK YOU” and threw her bag on the bus!

To which she replies, oh wait… she just took her cane and hit me on the top of the head with it!

That is all….

Sometimes!

SIDEBAR:  If I have a scar from this cut on my forehead I am never being nice to old people again!! 

FACT: I am bleeding!

GOAL: I might also get those gold little letters that have my initials in a pretty font for the bottom corner of my glasses like my aunt Kay has.. (when Im old)