Princess Dorkwang and the Frogs

*tap-tap-tap* Is this thing on?

I see some of the regulars are still here. Hey, Kevin? Can you give everyone a free round, on me? Whatever they want. And you know my stash? Bring that out. Yes, I'm serious. Dude. I didn't buy 37 Costco Party Bags of M&Ms for no reason. THIS IS A REASON. Nobody likes pretzels, and peanut allergies is a thing, and this is my blog and STOP LOOKING FOR LITTLE BOWLS, Kevin, just PUT THE BAGS ON THE BAR!!

You guys.

GUYS.

What kind of space-time continuum-leap just happened?? I mean, five years ago, I was married, had kids in middle school. ***Ka-BLAMMO!!*** I'm divorced three years, and my son is headed to Milwaukee School of Engineering.

I'll spare you the divorce story. That chapter is over. In fact, let's close the book, and put it way up on the tippy-top shelf in the deepest stacks of University of Michigan's Hatcher Graduate Library.  I don't even live in Michigan anymore; to open that book would mean at LEAST 6 hours driving in Summer construction and vacation traffic, and NOPE.

I'm online dating (segues are so over-rated). I can tell by the blank stares that's like, *so* not a big deal to you Young and Hip Beautiful People.

But GUYS.

I was married for 18 years. During that time, the Internet happened. Cell phones happened. Texting, sexting, face-timing your Twittersnap InstaTinder happened. I'm Rip Van Winkle waking up to a world of arrested-development men and Twerking.

I joined Match, EHarmony, JDate-and-I'm-not-even-Jewish... Dates happened. Some good, some bad. Some made me want to lobotomize myself with a Crazy Straw.

I have yet to "match" with my "soulmate." Dear EHarmony, which of the "97 points of compatibility" paired me with the 86 year old gentleman who wrote me to tell me his real name is "Thor?" Oh, I have stories.

Scamper over to Facebook, and check out  "Princess Dorkwang and the Frogs." Join me on this bumper-car ride of ridiculousness. Read my tales of WHAT IS SHE EVEN TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW. Share your stories.

Everyone has a story. No, really. Oprah said. You guys, do NOT mess with Oprah. Stop it stop it right now. You know she has a Book Club. The first rule of Book Club is DON'T TALK ABOUT BOOK CLUB. Shit. I just talked about Book Club. Here come the Oprah drones FOR THE LOVE OF GOD clutch your Oprah Book Club Bible, and say 20 Hail John Travoltas.

And please to enjoy, "Princess Dorkwang and the Frogs." May my misadventures in dating make you feel much, much better about yourself.