As a young singleton with a healthy libido and the honor of being a closet romantic, to say that I spend a fair amount of time thinking about relationships -- or lack thereof -- isn't especially surprising. In the eight months I've been back in town full-time, it's been all about trial and error. If a cute guy that you've had a nice rapport with gives you his number, don't be a dolt and call him. Or if you haven't gotten his number, what are you waiting for? Ask or give him yours. Time's a-wasting! Asking questions is usually a good idea. If you like them, tell them so! If they can't deal, it's their loss. Three things I really wouldn't be able to advise on are: how (umm, theoretically) a person who might consider themself a size queen can find that piece of info out before things escalate; how not to be blindsided by someone pole vaulting out of the friend zone; and the delicate situation of gauging someone's interest level before you potentially make an ass of yourself and get the "I think you're really cool but I just don't like you that way/have a girl-/boyfriend."
In honor of the new age, I'm avoiding many people, places and things that made the exploits of 22 so irritating after a while. Cooling down the hot pants, if you will. Fine tuning the radar, being firm but not too firm on the criteria. Of course, I got some shit on- and offline for putting the age thing first on "sick of" list. That is something that's important to me because I feel like it's an issue from keeping things from getting off the ground. For better or worse, when Farmer dominated the scene from August until December, it was something I could not get over because the life experiences he had packed into the 4 years between us had me constantly feeling like a kid. Of course, it was probably a problem invented in my head, but since most relationships are mental if I say it's a problem, it will be.
I'm beginning to think though that I'm constricted by rules and preferences. Friends are off-limits, even moreso because of Farmer aftermath. Most people I went to school with are persona non grata because honestly I'm sick of looking at them and/or would rather avoid that element. Guys at Sapph and 419 are off-limits because I know through experience who the types that run through there are. I'm over pale, skinny hipsters. No interest in the hyperthugs. No, no, no to whitebreads, status-obsessed, and crunchy hippies. Thumbs down to the humorless. So, what's left? In my mind, plenty. In actuality, apparently not much.
The preferences function as sort of a pop-up blocker. The other week, I met a cool guy who I nice vibe going with. We seemed to like the same things, occasionally hang out at the same places, have similar out and about styles, and have a bit of a weakness for the sauce. What functioned as the smackdown was that we might be working together on a project. PrincessNella in her devil on the shoulder role was all "who cares? Go for it!" and I considered it but had to ixnay that. So, the friend zone welcomes a new member. I mean, it's all trial and error, natch, but principles are there for a reason. If you don't have those, who do you have really?
Posted by Candicissima at April 3, 2004 07:31 PM