I get a few messages every month from someone wanting to marry me instantly. Let’s face it: I’m pretty and I’m awesome – who wouldn’t? Well, given my history of singleness: everyone. Don’t take pity on me and think me discouraged; I know that I’ll find my Darcy in shining tin foil eventually.

This fellow was just too playful to ignore:

“Hello, I’m Tisha. I’m a Virgo. I like burgers from a pub and hate walking in sand.”

I keep talking with him and he asks me more bizarre questions: Do I like kittens? Ice cream? Crayons? What’s my number?

Sir, I’m not going to give you my number. You proposed and asked me if I like crayons. The problem with these kinds of messages is that it makes me think only crazy people will want to marry me. While that may be fun for a while, I prefer to not have to medicate myself to get through life (well, anymore than I already do….that’s for work, shh!)

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