Page 12 of How to Win the Girl

No rush, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder if the right guy for me is right under my nose, and I haven’t found him yet because I haven’t been looking. My parents met in college; their junior year as a matter of fact. They’re best friends (gag, I know). Is it wrong that I might want the same thing?

Yes, I have a best friend.

Yes, I love being independent and my own person.

Yes, I love being able to do what I want, when I want.

It’s just… every so often, I look over at my girlfriends, who are all in relationships, and lately, a small void inside me yearns to be filled.

Gabby jokes I have a hole I yearn to have filled—by a dick.

Ha ha, she’s sooo funny.

But speaking of sex and being dicked—is it so wrong that every now and again, I lie in bed wishing for a face between my legs? And every now and again as I lie in bed, I wish maybe I was giving a blow job to the owner of that face?

A plus-one.

A ride or die that can’t lend me a tampon but will still hold my hair back when I’m barfing in the toilet with cramp nausea.

In search of someone to take to weddings, sorority mixers, and to meet family.

Also, I have an irrational fear that I will see a guy on a dating app, then discover him sitting in the row behind me in my lab or a class. An irrational fear that a guy will see me on the dating app, not swipe on me but approach me in public when I’m not interested.

What if some guy recognizes me and it becomes awkward?

You’re overthinking this, Daisy.

One step at a time.You haven’t even uploaded the app yet.

Stella—my best friend and our other roommate—is at her dance class, so she’s no help to me as I set up the profile, and clearly,Gabbyis sour and in no mood.

Fine. Whatever.

I can write my own dating profile. It’s not as if anyoneneedsto hold my hand—thankyouverymuch.

I stare at the small screen of my cell. The app wants my name, age, and location. And. Up to ten photos.

Ten photos?! Damn. Do I have three decent pictures let alone ten? And do I have pictures of just me and not me with a group of my besties?

I scroll through my photo gallery, deciding to tackle the photos first.

What do people put in these things?Where do I start?

I want to sound cute and clever and funny ’cause that’s the kind of guy I’m trying to attract. But holy hell this feels impossible—and I’ve done elevator pitches in my advertising classes. And if you’re not sure what an elevator pitch is, it’s literally a quick “sale” of yourself or something you’re trying to get the other person to buy into in the amount of time it would take for an elevators doors to close and reach its first stop.

Easier said than done.

A bit clueless, I find myself literally googling “clever dating bios” on the internet and stewing over each one. As I scroll and scroll, I’m wrinkling my nose over what people consider clever or funny or sexy.

Cliché.

Lame.

Ugh.

DAISY, 21

About me: New to this dating thing but giving it a shot…

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