Ever catch yourself saying something and think, oh my, that state of mind is not OK? That just happened to me a few moments ago, on IM with my friend Jude.
A confession: I am so not in the mood for people’s dating stories right now. I’m on a siesta, m’self, and trying to be diligent about work and projects and this class I’m taking and so on. And also, more importantly, I’ve just had it up to my eyeballs with guys’ shit. (Before you write me, I am aware that we women bring out own special brand of crappola into the equation. Howsomever, I do not date women. Therefore, I am only concerned with men’s crappola, and its effects on me. Thank you.)
So anyway, Jude runs through his latest adventures, and then asks me what’s going on with me. Specifically, what he said was, “Is the booty ban still on?” Because my pals are classy like that.
I assured him that it was, and then admitted that I was not as gung ho about the whole thing as I’d been, say, three months ago when the siesta started. I miss all the fun stuff that goes along with the crap. When your interaction with men has become fighting off drunk dudes in bars and trying to convince Romanian cab drivers that you never lived on the mountain in springtime, well, it’s a little depressing.
I would start dating again, I told him, but I’m very busy. I just don’t have time to have my heart stompled on right now.
Being a good pal, he suggested that perhaps I would not get my heart stompled on.
I assured him that I would: “What you need to understand is that for about two months, I am totally the most awesome girl anyone has ever met. After that, my stock plummets. Why? I dunno. Alls I do know is that if I sucked at my chosen career the way I suck at relationships, one might suggest that I seek other line of work.”
“Jesus,” he said. (And here it’s helpful to know that Jude is a goth.) “I’m not lending you my eyeliner and fishnets.”
Which is good, cuz I look silly in them. However, I do see his point.