I cheated. A couple times.

On what did I cheat? Well, I started the weirdest little experiment a few months ago.

My birthday comes at the end of the year (December 28th). This year – I can’t believe I’m admitting this in print – I turned 29. And since I will be “29” for the next 10 years, I wanted to be a pretty awesome version of myself. I decided to make a few changes, just like everyone else did this New Year's.

So while you’re thinking about your resolutions to lose weight, get a new job, play less Skyrim – whatever it is – I’m already a couple steps ahead of you.

Well, I should be. But I’m pretty sure I’m failing miserably.

See, I’m addicted to guys. More specifically, to their attentions, affections and anatomy – or at least what happens when our anatomies get together. I’m not sure when it began, but I’m guessing it was pretty young. In high school, I was voted Biggest Flirt (I still have the trophy). In college, I was bestowed a similar title: Makeout Slut (I even had a shirt).

Lately, it's meant being on every single online dating site possible, and not being in a relationship for one and half years because I don’t know how to start one – but I am really good at playing the game.

What is the game? Not going home alone.

Or at least getting free drinks.

I know how to be witty. I know how to be charming. I know how much cleavage cradles the line between slutty and sophisticated. I know how to compliment guys, and ask questions, and not talk so much that they find me annoying or stupid. All these factors combined means I’m really, really good at getting free drinks, first dates - and even second dates.

You know what I’m not good at? Getting a boyfriend.

I’ve been on at least a hundred dates in the last year and a half. Seriously. I wish I was joking. I have enough bad date material to start a stand-up comedy routine. I could talk about the one guy who literally said 26 words in an hour and a half, another who went on an hour-long tirade about how I should have babies with him because smart and attractive people are reproducing less than the ‘stupid’ people, or another who told me he loved me on the third date.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And still slightly creeped out.

So why did I put myself through all that just for free drinks or dinner? Obviously there was something more I was looking for, right?

The experiment started because of a “super awesome” night. I had been stood up by a guy I really liked (and thought liked me). Obviously I had to go out drinking to feel better. And just to prove that there were other men out there who wanted me, I made plans to meet up with my friend-with-benefits guy. On the way to his place (at 2 a.m.) my car overheated. After finally making it to the guy’s place, he didn’t care about my crappy day.

He didn’t even care about seducing me. He got his rocks off.

I got nothing.

Normally sex is a stress reliever for me. It helps me relax. Makes me feel connected to my body. Makes me feel good about my body. Makes my body feel good. That night it made me feel like an object. I didn’t want something I loved doing to become the only thing people loved about me.

So I did the unthinkable: I gave up drinking and dating for two months.

Why did I feel the need to quit drinking while addressing my dating problem? Because we all know what happens when alcohol gets in the mix. Late nights, dark lights and the idea of going home alone after rubbing against bodies for hours in the bar … we all know where it goes. Within the first two weeks, I knew one thing: drinking did not help me make bad decisions.

To borrow a line from Tyler Perry: I can do bad all by myself.

I have bigger cajones than most people I know, so I don’t need any ‘liquid courage’ to do things; I’m probably doing it sober anyway. And I really, really wanted to do many, many bad things sober.

But I didn’t. At least for the first month.

I quickly realized – in my very sober and dopamine-free brain – that I was craving intimacy with another person so much that I was allowing physical intimacy to substitute for the emotional/mental stuff. But how do you create intimacy without someone else?

You can’t. So I’m already drinking and dating again.

Although this time, I’m doing so more responsibly. I am not actively trying to date (no online dating or set-ups), but if someone asks me out, I won’t say no (unless he’s atrocious – in which case I would have said no even before this experiment). No drinking on dates. And more importantly: no bumping anatomies.

What does that mean? Basically I’m allowing myself to make out with boys, but no sex until … well, I guess until I feel there is a solid emotional/mental foundation.

That’s about five dates, right?

Seriously, I don’t know how long it will take, but I do know that at the time I turned in this article, I hadn’t had relations in many, many weeks. I’ve had a few dates, and lots of drinks (this is how I cheated), but the shop has remained closed for business.

Hopefully this resolution lasts longer than the first one.

Good luck with yours.