Warthog Theory goes out the window. I'll be browsing in the unicorn aisle.

The thing about a fabulous wedding that you attend by yourself is they are such an excellent reminder that you're alone. Particularly weddings of happy couples - and really, those are the weddings you want to attend. Practically everyone at this wedding was coupled.

And the fact that they're all happy and together and happy together just underlines the fact that you are single. It's not that anyone is trying to make you feel like you're alone. You're just not half of a couple. And everyone else is.

I just got an email from an upstairs neighbor asking me out tonight - anywhere, his treat. A lovely invitation. We barely know each other. He certainly has no idea he's a whole lot younger than I am, which is flattering. But even beyond the age thing, from what I know about him, he's really not my type, although he does seem like a nice guy.

On a side bar, he'd asked for my number at some point when we were talking about condo stuff. And then one day he called out of the blue. I was standing on the front steps of our building, answered a call from a random 202 number, he said "Hi! This is John!"

"John?"

"From the floor above you."

And I swear to you, I looked straight up into the sky. "Above me? But I'm outside!"

"In our building. John. Your neighbor."

So I saved him immediately in my phone as John Neighbor.

So John Neighbor emailed. With this nice invitation.

I was telling Bob this, and saying I can't go tonight because I have a date. And he said, "Wow! Two dates in a week! That should make you hopeful!"

And the truth is, it'll be three. I had one last night. But somehow, it puts me no closer to hopeful.

Last night's date was yet another Perfectly Nice Human Being. He was nice, he was bright, and we had relatively interesting, intelligent conversation. But whatever the IT is wasn't there. It was all very pleasant and very flat.

And what it brings me back to is, I don't want just some guy. I want someone I think is amazing. But there's been this disconnect between the ones I think are amazing and the ones who think I am.

My parents know these people who we refer to in private as the Warthogs, because they are graceless and grunty and curmudgeonly. They're friends of friends, and often fairly unpleasant to be around. But I was always delighted by the fact that they were together. It gave me hope that there really is someone for everyone in the universe, and if the Warthogs could find each other, well then, there must be hope for everyone. Including me.

Lately, though, I cannot even imagine who this guy might be. I think I might be giving up on Warthog Theory. I'm beginning to think The Guy for me is actually a unicorn. You know - fictional.