Shameless

Dear faithful friends,

This isn't really an update about a failed date. Just more a confirmed realization that I had a surge in viewership of this blog in the last few days.. by like a couple of hundred hits. Not that it's much of a feat, really. However, it means that collectively, the photo of myself (or a troll doll with glasses, however you perceive it) at eleven years old had been seen a couple hundred times. (274 times to be exact.)

I just wanted to leave this here as a disclaimer that I can in no way be responsible for any immediate blindness this has caused. So no sending me your medical bills for any lasik surgery you may have had. I know your motive.

Sincerely,

Jula

PS: This is a picture of me now, totally authentic:

PPS: Yes, I am Beyoncé. Don't spill the beans though.

Call-out for Candour

I know in this blog so far, I have shared some of my finer moments in my journey through dating. Dating, which lead to retching, then rising from the basin I was using while retching, and then finally moving forward. Then of course, lather, rinse and repeat the whole damn process.

Regardless, I know you, as the reader, keep reading through the cringe-worthy scenarios because you have some level of empathy for me. You may understand what I am going through because you are in the same boat or have been in the past. Or you are just laughing at me. Either way, I invite you to submit your own terrible date stories to me that you wish to publish. I appreciate candour. I will not add names or dates to anything you provide to protect anonymity. Submit stories to fail.date.chronicles@gmail.com and they will make their way to this platform! Or if there are any queries, direct them here as well! Happy writing!