It's not you, it's most definitely me.

I had a realization today: I pick some fucked up guys to date. It's been almost a year since I've started dating again post-commonlaw marriage of my 20s....and it's been a bizarre cast of characters. I feel like I am missing a few early ones but I can remember most of them, in order of appearance:

Taye Diggs Lookalike: HOT. HOT. HOT. A perfect re-introduction to dating and sex. Huge muscles and other things, ouch actually, and he broke my bed, literally. But....the guy's a weirdo and a sketchball. Should probably have known he was sketch from the start since his texts come from a weird string of numbers, not his name or number. Among other things, he's also attempted a 9 AM booty call and was eliminated recently with the whole "sexy slut" comment. Too bad. I really liked him at first.

The Roofying Asslicker: Yes, you read right. Pretty sure he roofied me - either that or I got shitfaced from 2 glasses of champagne, which is simply impossible - then took me to Harlem and tried to lick my asshole all night. Enough said.

The Pseudo Boyfriend: As previously mentioned, we pretended we were bf-gf for a bit, he even met my sisters for a beach weekend. He's really nice and was really fun when he was a big drinker. When the drinking stopped, so did the fun. And the sex...me on top for 5 minutes, missionary for 5, me on top for 5, and...done. IF I was lucky. Predictable sex is almost worse than no sex, if you ask me.

The High School Crush: Possibly the best of the lot, so naturally also the one I have seen the least. Met up fifteen years post-high school at a reunion, stayed up and out together until 6 AM that first night. Have been hooking up and getting the occasional beer every few weeks since. Great guy, perfect anatomy, amazing sex. That's about all we do anymore, the every few weeks night of crazy sex. In large part because he LIVES IN FUCKING BROOKLYN. And thinks it's the greatest place on earth. Like I said, they all have fatal flaws.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell: AKA the one with the wedding ring. Not much to say about this one except that I clearly shouldn't be involved in this but can't seem to feel guilty about it. Crazy physical chemistry and a few crazy adventures. I won't say more at risk of grossing out Muffy and Diana. Have been slowing down with this one in a too-late attempt to fix my karma, but can't seem to cut it off completely.

Bloated Tiger Woods: Met this one online. All good, talked for a week, then we met......40 pounds heavier than his profile picture. Tiger Woods lookalike, if he was blown up like a balloon. Literally. He kept looking at me and saying "damn...you look good." While I do think I am better in person than pics, I don't look THAT good. I can only surmise that he assumed I'd be 40 lbs heavier too? Either way, sorry, I'm shallow, but I don't date fat guys and that one pissed me off. That's just deceptive.

Shawty: Previously mentioned. Why I think it's OK to meet men at Brother Jimmy's, I don't know. He was OK wasted and sitting, not great wasted and standing, and completely unacceptable sober in any position. And on our first and last date, the "you can sit a little closer, you know!" and "your lips look soooo soft" comments did not help his case. Nor did the attempted phone booth molestation. Ew.

Joepa: Another online date, possibly my last. SO nice, but also giant and awkward. Feel a little bad, I agreed to a second date and never responded to his last texts, but I just was 100% unattracted to him. Bad karma on this one too, he didn't deserve to be straight dissed. I am bad at getting out of situations gracefully.

Ivory Coast: I don't need to say very much about this one at this point, right? The giggling, the bringing the friend on the dates, the track jacket, BROOKLYN, the sonnet texting, the list goes on. So why have I not stopped texting him? Issues I tell you. Issues.

And of course, no summary would be complete without a mention of the bizarre Ex Common Law Husband situation. Still very tight, still talk and text all day every day, and he may or may not have bought me a $400 DVF dress the other day. I watched the last episode of Friends last night and he is Ross to my Rachel. Best of friends, really not terribly attracted to one another.

But, through the adventures of the last year, I've become smarter than Rachel - I've figured out that the attraction part is just as important as the friendship part. Every successful couple I know has both and I'm not willing to settle for one or another. I'd rather wait - I almost said I'd rather be alone, but I've got friends, family, an endlessly amusing cast of characters in my bed, and I live in the most amazing city in the world. Somehow I don't feel alone at all.

(I still probably need to work on my choices. Suggestions and setups with tall, dark, and handsome men are always welcome.)