Shows I am no longer watching as they depress me more than they entertain me ...

1. A Wedding Story (I am not married.)
2. A Baby Story (My biological clock is tick, tick, ticking.)
3. A Dating Story (I can't remember the last time I went out on a real date.)
4. A Makeover Story (I am a What Not to Wear episode waiting to happen.)
5. Trading Spaces (My landlord doesn't appreciate my need to express myself through massive redecorating.)

Ok ... I'm pretty much initiating a crackdown on any and all programming sponsored by the TLC network ... Hah ... TLC my left cheek ... bone that is. The learning channel is one big episode of this is not your life, no matter how hard you might wish it to be. And don't even try to convince me that there isn't some sort of mean spirited reason for their call letters! Ask any single girl anywhere in the whole United States and trust me when I tell you, that they will verify that there is absolutely nothing tender, loving or caring about watching what everyone else but you has, on national television. It's cruel I tell you, cruel!

I've even followed all the advice my married/committed friends have given me. (Think back ... I'm sure you've heard them all before too.) From Mom's tried, but not true, stop looking and Mr. Right will materialize right before your eyes theory, all the way to grocery shopping on Thursday nights between the hours of 6:30 and 9:00 p.m. This just to open up the opportunity to accidentally ram your cart, into some unsuspecting single man in the middle of the produce section, who has no idea he's being stalked by every single girl in the joint. An even smarter girl takes her coupon book with her, just so she can interject after the smash but not grab incident, after a quick inventory of Mr. Maybe He Could be the One's cart, that she just happens to have an extra coupon for one of his purchases. This of course, shows him how generous she is. If he's not already thinking she's a complete psycho.

I might even find some of this comical, if it weren't for the simple fact, that this is my life. Sometimes I wonder where the girl who used to be me went ... The one who didn't care if she was single or not, a member of the in crowd, or if she was fashionably late or fashionable at all. I think I was 25 the last time we had a meaningful chat, since then she hasn't had much to say, other than the occasional spinster with a cat comment. Bridget Jones, you've got no idea ...