Wherein the girl learns that there was a State Poet in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and that failing is a virtue.
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Wherein girl counts upwards of 15 brain farts and decides that the cast members of the Jersey Shore may be onto something with their GTL'ing.
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Wherein the girl posts videos of herself online and learns that a clothing store in Philadelphia also sells alcoholic root beer.
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Wherein the girl opts to talk to people in person rather than on the phone.
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Wherein the girl realizes that in order to master the art of attraction and meet people of the opposite sex, she has to actually leave her house.
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Wherein the girl learns that being herself is an excuse not to improve because "his works only if you know exactly who you are, what your strengths are, and how to convey them successfully."
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Wherein girl casts away the onus of online dating in order to follow pick-up artist guru, Neil Strauss.
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As a single female, I’ve come to expect these sorts of ads from Facebook. But, what?!?! As if, I don’t have enough pressure from my parents to give them grandkids. (See: previous post.) My own little revenge? I click on all of the ads just to run up the pay-per-click prices.
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Portnoy’s Complaint, a novel by Philip Roth, should be mandatory reading at all synagogues during Bar or Bat Mitzvah training.  Actually, it should be mandatory reading for anyone who can relate to this excerpt from page 99-100 in my copy (ISBN 0-679-75645-0), the inclusion of which makes this review longer than 2 sentences. Pianist!...
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An Open Letter to All Almost-Thirty-Somethings Living at Home with their Parents To all almost-thirty-somethings living at home with their parents: It’s okay.  So am I. best, Melissa Because I like to keep a record of my rejections.  Plus, they sorta tell us to.
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