The Guidelines

Evidently, I'm in crisis mode. Defcon Level 5. Red alert. I'm 31, unmarried, unattached, boyfriendless, and left to take out my own trash.

According to Oprah, CNN, and Facebook, I'm in serious trouble. Love trouble.

I'm also college-educated and I hold an advanced degree. Oh yea, I'm also African-American.

My prospects just got bleaker.

So I've decided to dedicate 2011 to love. Mary J. Blige's Real Love. Casablanca love. Hallmark card love. Sixteen-year-old I'll-die-if-I-don't-hear-from-you-every-day-let's-talk-on-the-phone-all-night kind of love.

I also attract weirdos.

The weirdo aspect may make finding love a little more difficult, but maybe not. Perhaps my standards are too high. Perhaps it's too much for me to ask that my potential mi amor have all of his upper molars (more on that later). I got my psychology degree from Dr. Phil, and he's told me that I'm the common denominator in all the dismal experiences I seem to have, so I'm steppin' out on a limb, changin' my game plan.

As such, for the next year I've decided to go out on one date with whomever asks. Whom.Ever.

I've set up a couple of guidelines:

1.) I will give my phone number to whatever man I meet face-to-face and asks. I will not take numbers. If he wants to date me, he must ask.

2.) I will go out on one date to wherever the man suggests. Hiking? Check. McDonalds? Check. Applebees? Check. Church? Okee dokee. The only exception will be dates that I deem potentially unsafe: no first dates at your place or mine to "watch movies."

3.) ? I'll fill this in on a need-to-adjust basis. This is my one emergency rule that I'll create when necessary.