Recipes for Disaster

Many of you are probably wondering what brought us to this desolate intersection of broke ‘n single, what caused us to be wandering down this lonely highway of solitude, stepping over the broken bones of relationships past, constantly replaying mistakes made on the giant screen of the sky in front of us. (Apparently, our lives bear striking resemblance to Dali’s paintings.) After all, we have not always been broke ‘n single – okay, we’ve always been broke, but that doesn’t feel quite the same as when you’re broke and not single.

A Brief History – Very Brief (so little time…ours and yours)

Please allow us to “Benjamin Button” you back to where it first began…

Part One:

A pattern may have arisen based on previous entries, but I would like to clarify the men I have been associated with in the past: an Olympian, a Brazilian soccer player, a political candidate, a published author - all socially-minded, somewhat gainfully employed individuals. I have seen their resumes, and I would hire them. However, none should have been hired as “boyfriend.”

In discussing the latest in the string of failures, I would like to caution you as to where you throw your vote in the next local election. While at first he appeared to be a knight in shining armor, he turned out to be quite the frog among princes. Although he was waving red flags like I was in the last lap of a stockcar race, I ignored all of them:

• One ex-wife and their son
• One allegedly soon-to-be-ex-wife and their son and her son from a previous relationship
• No visible means of financial support for all three children
• Friends and family unaware of “pending divorce” (and his failure to produce paperwork)
• Questionable details regarding past
• Lack of communication and disappearance for days at a time (don’t be mistaken: it was somehow my fault)
• Ownership of a time machine that magically transported him 660 miles in a mere hour-and-a-half

Clearly, I should have been dating the baggage carousel at O’Hare International. The break-up was such a surprise that it took me nearly six weeks to figure out why I shouldn’t immediately get back together with him.

Part Two:

Heyyyyyyyy! While past involvements have been fairly unremarkable, one may wonder how I found myself in Iowa in the middle of January. Not only did I choose to travel from a tropical paradise to Tornado Alley*, I opted to do so during the biggest blizzard of the year. This was all for a boy – a boy who failed to tell me that he

• Had a girlfriend
• Of five years
• Enrolled in my graduate program
• Taking the same classes as me
• Whose best friend lived across the street from me

Interestingly, this would have been good information to have prior to moving 1,300 miles from home – for a boy about whom I apparently knew nothing. This mirrors a situation I found myself in six years ago when my live-in boyfriend came home from a business trip with a fiancé, who apparently knew nothing about his girlfriend of five years. P.S. Girlfriend (me) had moved almost 3,000 miles across the country to live with this douche-bag who salsa’ed very well. Oh, sweet irony.

We are about to go crazy-English on yo’ ass: how do we combine our obvious cynicism with the inherently humorous and ridiculous partners we have had? We searched high and low for Oedipal themes throughout our relationships but found none. Clearly we haven’t learned our lessons from these past adventures (have you read our blog?), and we likely won’t anytime in the near future. But don’t worry: the dating scene in Des Moines, Iowa, is alive and well. After all, we do have advanced degrees, are pretty funny (have you read our blog?), are semi-good-looking, and have wide-ranging interests – so, in effect, we're perfect. Thus, it can’t be that hard, right? Right? RIGHT?

*Don’t worry: my kit is prepared with a helmet, whistle, flashlight, water, and dog food.