Sunday, March 9, 2003

OK, so I let myself get distracted. Jesus, I’m only human! It’s been three whole weeks since I’ve gotten any action. And I guess I was just...overdue (like that library book I've had for two years!).



And Pierced Political Boy (PPB) is all moody and distant (try a thousand miles distant), Loser is in my face every single day, reminding me of FAILURE and LOSS, and lately it’s just been me and the Magic Wand.



So. This weekend, I reverted five whole months and fooled around with the L’il Rockclimbing Spy (LRS). For those of who you are new to this three-ring circus, the LRS is a fine l'il thing ten (!) years younger than me -- but Jewish and outdoorsy -- with whom I had a brief but fun fling back in the fall, that ended with “The Weirdness,” as he calls it. First there was a little “incident," which had to do with me accusing him of flirting with every single girl at a party we attended together. He got annoyed by my accusation; I thought he was blowing me off, he thought I was blowing him off, and both of us, thinking we were being rejected, just let the whole thing slide.



I was actually rather proud of myself at the time, because I am not known to just “let things slide” with cute boys, but I told myself “This isn’t going to work out anyway; he's too young; just let it go.” And let it go I did. Tres Zen of me, I know. Maybe I was cutting back on caffeine at the time or something.



But then he came back on the scene a couple months ago, claiming he’d been “amped” (excited) about me, and “jacked” (upset) that it had ended the way it did; and that he was “ready to give it another go.”



Well, my life was crawling with men at the time – Silent but Deadly Boy and PPB (who was, at the time, still sending me five e-mails day; the number has significantly dropped since he actually got me in the sack), and I was like, whatever.



A month or so later, my life isn’t so crawly anymore, and...I dunno, I must be ovulating or something, ‘cause the other night -- my goodness gracious! I’d forgotten how much I liked that smooth, hard, perfectly-muscled body – which, at 24, is much leaner and meaner than the bodies of the late 20- early 30-somethings I’ve been messin' with lately.



But hey, I’m an equal opportunity dater. I actually went out with a 40-year old dude a couple weeks ago (six years older than me, thank you!). And he was cute! But, alas, quite annoying. He had the unfortunate habit of always referring to himself in the third person:



For example:


  • “Marco, I said to myself, you must be crazy!”


  • “He said to me Marco, if you don’t jump on this opportunity now, you’ll regret it!”


  • “I bet you’re thinking right now, Marco, if you don’t stop referring to yourself as Marco all the time, you are about to lose any slim chance you have with me!”


  • Etc.



I draw the line at old dudes, though. Yesterday, to my disgust, a 55-year old guy answered my personals ad. As if! In his ad, he said he was looking for women ages 30-50. That really gets my blood boiling. What’s wrong with someone his own f**ing age? Too old and wrinkly? I wrote him back and said DUDE, you are too f**ing old for me, but I’ll introduce you to my MOM next time she comes to town!” Sheesh.



I admit it, I like the young ones too. The ones who look like hobbits, don’t have jobs, play in bands, live with parents, climb rocks, smoke pot, etc. But that is because I am a Gemini, the most youthful sign of the Zodiac. However, at least I say on my ad that I am interested in people up to several years older than me. And you old dudes who are rejecting women just because they are your age? You totally suck.



Anyway, getting it on with the LRS was fun. And I just have to point out that he made reference to us getting married no less than three times in less than 24 hours.



But still, the whole thing made me lose what little serenity I’ve accrued these past three dateless weeks (I’m sorry but “Marco” doesn’t count). Sure I’ve been depressed and sleeping all the time, but at least I haven’t been hopping in and out of bed with different boys all the time, getting emotionally attached one minute and having to detach myself the next. Is that what human relationships should be about? I think not.













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