Will you eat my olives?

So I'm sure you're wondering what ever happened to that "boy fast" I was on...well, folks I made it through half of the day on Monday and I broke down. I know, I know, a big round of applause for Liya. I'm so weak. I'm sorry I'm not sorry. Ok? I have to date. I'm not a nun. I've been seeing a few guys lately and I'm having trouble narrowing down my prospects. So then my good friend Jaimie (a very insightful relationship guru) helped shed some light on the situation. She was watching a show and she said they mentioned the "Olive Theory". Apparently the theory is based on whether you and your perfect mate are fond of olives. If you order a martini and you don't like olives, naturally your counterpart will eat them for you. Ok, that makes sense, but what if I don't want a martini. What if I want a beer. Then what?

Trying to find the perfect man is exhausting, not to mention I'm kind of picky. I just want your average God-loving, intelligent, good-looking, funny, kind, adventurous, manly, athletic, independent, ambitious, sensitive guy with great taste in music, a sense of style, a wonderful smile, and a beautiful voice that he uses to sing me to sleep every night. Is that so much to ask for? Huh?

And so the search continues...