Where the hekk is my boyfriend?

Consider this blog a modern day Sex in the City. Or should I say No Sex in the City.

I’m 25 and as single as a dollar bill.  I typically find myself scrolling through Facebook, looking at announcements of engagements, weddings, and babies. Part of me breathes a sigh of relief that I have 100% freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want (besides the whole 9-5 thing).  The other part of me wonders when I’m going to be the one posting those updates for my social media followers to see. Will Facebook even exist in 30 years when I (hopefully) find my dream man? Will hashtags be a thing for our wedding pictures on Instagram? #CMOandWHOsayido!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy with my life right now. If you were to look through my pictures, you would find countless selfies of me with my wide, open mouth smile, mid-laugh showing the world how much fun I’m having on the beach, at a Rangers game, or on vacation.  The only caveat is that instead of posting pictures with a boyfriend, I’m usually taking a selfie, by my self. I pride myself on getting a solid amount of likes on these pictures, up for debate if they’re sympathy likes or jealously likes, but hey! a like is a like, so I’ll take it.

The quarter-life crisis is a time when people are beginning to re-evaluate relationships, careers and cities to relocate to. Being 25 doesn’t feel old enough to have a clear head on my shoulders to make these kind of life-altering decisions, but I’m not in college anymore (devastating). These decisions are mine to make. I’m entering my third year as a New Yorker, more specifically, a single New Yorker. Here’s a look back on a few of the notable nights over the years that have led me to where I am now: still single.

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