the rose

So here I sit. It's Monday night, the first week of the new year, and I'm at home, alone, watching The Bachelor. (Most likely, after that sentence, you've concluded that I didn't have that date on New Year's Eve.) If you know me, you might think this is a bit odd; reality shows are not my favorite, particularly those on which girls flaunt their bodies and fight over a boy they barely know. But here I am, watching it anyway. This time around, I find myself relating a bit to those girls -- and even to the bachelor himself.

The girls are all a bit desperate and lonely. Why else would they put their lives on hold on the slim chance that this one guy just might be "the one"?

The bachelor is terrified of sending "the one" home. He only gets a few minutes with each one before he has to decide if he wants to continue to get to know them.

Every single one of them just wants to fall in love.

And I get it.

Now, would I pour myself into a tight, boob-boosting evening gown and recite cheesy pleas for a flower? No. But then again, I am doing something that I always said I would never do: online dating -- a fourth month of it, actually.

Every day, I log on and wonder if I'm looking at a photo of the guy that I could soon be sitting with here on this couch. I read a profile and quickly decide if I'm going to give him a "rose." (Oh great -- now I'm being cheesy.) Maybe I'm closing out "the one." Maybe he's not even on here. Most likely, he's not. Who knows -- maybe I'll find my bachelor on a plane or in a coffee shop. But until then, I'm still giving this a chance.