This year was a quiet one. As I type, Alyx is playing downstairs with her new Ipod touch and the other two are playing Family Feud on the Wii.
I knew it was going to be a year with no gifts for me as I am as single as they come, so I bought myself a pair of new heels, 2 more sweaters…as if I need another one and a book I have been waiting to go to paperback so I can afford it. Instead of waiting, I downloaded it when I installed Kindle on my phone.
My mom and sister have been asking me to give them book suggestions since I gave them, “Water for Elephants” and they loved it. My book tastes range and I can read a book in a day. At one point, I can have 3 books going at once. Right now I am in the middle of “Unbearable Lightness” and “Love, Lust and Faking it”.
Both books are awesome, but I am finding that I love the way that Jenny McCarthy writes. It’s like reading a letter from a friend you’ve known for years and isn’t afraid to say what she is thinking. I can’t imagine who that sounds like. Me, just in case you didn’t figure it out.
I got to the part of the book where she talks about having sex with someone beneath her level. Yes people, there are leagues..and we are all in one. For example, there is this amazingly hot guy I know. I’ve gotten to the point where I am tempted to remove him from my facebook friends because whenever he uploads a picture, I feel naughty for the amount of time I stare at it.
I’m telling you, being single fucks with my head. When I am in a relationship, no one but that person exists. When they say, “Blindly in love” they were talking about me. Much like the book i’m reading, Brad Pitt, George Clooney and the guy from True Blood could have walked naked into my room and if I was with the man I was in love with, I would have said, “Brad, move your ass you’re blocking the TV and Colbert Report is on!”
I’ve also dated beneath my league. Which gets me to the second part of the book where she is talking about Booty calls.
This whole term was straight from the ghetto slang handbook I was not privy to until I got into college. “Hook Up”? what the hell was that? My much younger boyfriend was the first to introduce me to ‘booty call and ‘hooking up’. In return for his immaturity, I learned a new one ‘revenge sex’. My college years were not something I can say I was proud of, but a few good things came from it. I learned what a booty call was.
There is something extremely hot about the thought of driving across town and be fed dinner in front of a fake fireplace and then having sex on his thrift store couches…and then leaving. This went on for awhile and then he got fed up with me leaving afterward and something happened when he asked me to stay the night with him. It took everything in me to not put my shoes on and leave afterward. The fact that his bed wasn’t really a bed, but a futon mattress on a bunch of boxes only had half to do with it. Sleeping over meant that we were taking our three time a month thing to another place I wasn’t comfortable with.
Long story short, I married my booty call. We threw out his mattress and he moved in with me.
For those of you paying attention and taking notes; DO NOT MARRY YOUR BOOTY CALL GUY.
So here I am again, single again and having to get use to the idea of either never having sex again or just being with someone for a few hours. The thought of being in a relationship scares the living shit out of me. Oh who am I kidding, having sex with someone new scares the shit out of me. Just talking about having sex with someone new scares me. I’m just scared I think.
I’ve been lucky in the last couple years about getting real. Ending friendships that have outlived their expiration dates, purging the toxic people out, getting real about what I want and what I know I deserve in this life. Now that ‘getting real’ thing is either going to go wonderful or horribly wrong. I’ve decided to open my life back up to letting people in and with that comes the Truth and Lies. The truths we tell or keep to ourselves and lies we have to tell to keep someone interested. I told myself I’m not ready to play any games, but with dating it happens.
For example; I’m not telling people I skydive. Telling a potential date that I skydive is like telling them I am a stripper. It’s pretty cool and exciting…at first. Then you realize that this person lives a completely different life than the rest of the world and you don’t have a part in it. If you open your mouth and suggest they change, you’re an asshole.
So, this is a lie. I’m not being honest, so it’s a lie.
The subject of ex’s will come up at some point. These are more stories I am not willing to share. What happened in my past relationships built who I am today. Besides, do you really tell the guy you’re interested in, “oh the last guy I was in love with said i’m clingy, smothering and caused him resentment!….Ohhh yeah, I’m a keeper!” I guess the fact that I wrote that and i’m googleable, it’s now out there. Yep, that’s me…
the truth in all it’s uglyness. I am everything a man would run the opposite direction from…unless you’re freaking crazy and sorry, my days of being with ‘crazy’ ended when he walked out the door a year and half ago.
So that leaves me what I do want. The more guys I talk to, the more cynical I find myself though. There’s this one guy that seems like a good enough guy, but he does yoga. Really? Yoga?. Well, at least he was honest, unlike me who won’t admit she skydives. I think the only reason I find him remotely attractive is that he reminds me of an ex boyfriend I had once a long time ago. Dear God, what is wrong with me and red heads? When I read the books as a little girl, prince charming wasn’t a red head. He was tall, dark and handsome. There is something about the fact that they can only be in the sun for a little while. It’s like dating a gremlin. It’s dangerous and thrilling at the same time. What happens if I get him wet and feed him twinkies after midnight? Oh the challenge of dating one is intoxicating!
Regardless, I am seeing what I see in the type of men I am attracted to and within the first few conversations, I’m done. “I only like him because he looks like…”, or “Never married, but has no baggage?…you scare me more than a guy divorced 3 times!” The conversations I have had in my head are hysterical to say the least. I’m picky. WAY too picky for my own right. I know I don’t deserve to be this picky.
So I have friends that are helping through this part in my life. They are teaching me how to build the right kind of walls. One is trying to teach me how to flirt again. It’s amazing, once you stop flirting, you tend to forget how.
No really, at this point if Brad, George and True Blood guy came in my room naked, my first reaction as a single girl would be, “You, the one with the shlong, there is this massive spider in my bathtub, please kill it. You with the abs, I have a shelf that needs to go up. And you with hot ass, come over here because I am freezing cold and my ass needs a warm back to heater up to!”