"it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

Rejection sucks. It doesn't matter why you are being rejected or how many times. It is never fun. Today I was discussing my self-proclaimed spinsterhood with a very good friend, let's call her Jules. She is always willing to talk and always willing to solicit advice, asked for or otherwise (but I still love ya Jules!). At any rate, she went off about what is wrong with us twenty-somthings. I should mention she is a rather conservative young lady, a bit of a traditionalist if you will, but every now and then she makes a good point: "Dating doesn't exist anymore. That's what's wrong with your generation."So true. We don't date. We "hang out," participate in NCMO (if you don't know ask your mom, or a teenage boy with raging hormones), and then if we really like the person we think about going out, like in public, with dinner and a movie or bowling (when you are "dating" there is only so much you can do when you are mormon). According to my sage adviser, Jules, this is backward. And I agree. But what are we going to do? (I just committed two grammatical sins, anyone?) If a boy just walks up to a girl he finds attractive at an activity or on the street and asks her out, he is seen as a creep and would probably be maced. But that's how it used to be in the good ol' days before texting, facebook, and e-mail. Human beings would actually interact-like face to face-I know, unheard of. Weird. But I swear to you it is true. Which reminds me of something else I was thinking of today. See, I had another job interview today and I had the hardest time articulating my thoughts into words. Because of technology, we don't have to do that all to often anymore. It's a problem (what is ironic about this post is that I am participating in the very thing I am ranting about :)). So I have decided that at a young single function in the near future I am going to interface the old fashioned way like they did in my novel (anyone guessed it yet?) and walk up to a boy that I find at least mildly attractive and talk to him. I know, loony bin, but it just might work. I challenge all you other spinsters to do the same! I will let you know what happens when I do and I know just the event: ward stare [aka ward prayer-a tradition in student wards that I still have yet to figure out-we drive to some place to participate in an activity that is sacred and meant to be done in our closets (privately). Just another chance to oogle the goodies-am I right guys?). Anyway-I will let you know how it goes. Until then, "If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or even so similar beforehand, it does not advantage their felicity in the least." More on that tomorrow.