It occurs to me that I've been failing you (my lovely loyal 3 readers) in my promise to deliver stories about bikes, books, and most importantly, boys. Well, maybe the boys weren't the most important thing to you. But I'll go with definitely liking boys more than bikes. And I'm pretty sure that I like boys better than books.
So to end this drought of posts on boys, let's chat about the dating siesta. After all, it's not like the people haven't wanted to know about the start and finish of the siesta. And when I say "people," I really mostly mean the drunken mouse . I think it's pretty clear to most people why the dating siesta began. Who hasn't been involved with a self-avowed asshole, become moody and broody as result, and realized that they had to abandon their fun girl title as a result of all the moody brooding. All that seemed like enough for any person to embark upon a dating siesta.
Starting a dating siesta is easy--after all, it's really just spanglish for taking a small break from dating. During a dating siesta, remember to be your own best PR person: tell everyone, everywhere about the siesta. Tell Bert, hitting on you at an East Village dive bar, tell friends, tell neighbors, tell the guy who keeps meeting you for drinks (because, all this meeting for drinks--isn't that kind of like dating? Has he not heard there's a siesta on?). Explain that the siesta is by choice. Explain that it's a siesta, and not a coma--you will one day wake up.
And that, I think, brings us to the most frequently asking dating siesta question: How did the dating siesta end? If you follow the link, upon being pressed, the boy reluctantly confessed his successful (and secret) strategy to breaking the siesta: Andonstrone!