Hello, my friends, hello. It’s good to let you know…
That I’m not dead, and this little Jedi has simply been having a few adventures of her own gallivanting across the fabulous state I call home. It’s good to remind myself of all the things outside my little bubble I’ve created for myself here. Kind of my own way of reminding me there is a lot more to life than the safe haven I’ve created for myself here. (Even though, honestly, sometimes it doesn’t feel so safe…especially when I’m walking around by the lake in the dead heat of the night…some scary and horny people tend to come out…Not so much fun when all you want to do is walk and clear your head.)
But I am back in town, and ready to rumble. Except I have work to do and work to go to. Gotta earn the money to pay the bills. Am I right?
I’m heading into my 8th month as a single lady, and it’s no surprise that I’m running into my fair share of losers, potentials, and keepers. More than a few are ones I want to hold on to, but for whatever outside circumstance, it’s not about to happen. Some were hard to let go, others…not so much. A few I’ve flirted with were purely for fun and entertainment. Hey, I was out and having a good time. They were cute, and seemed to be digging the vibe. No numbers were exchanged, so it’s not like I was putting out the signal I wanted to see them again. It was all meant to be purely for fun.
Along with that attitude comes the realization that others don’t think the same way you do. So they find you on Facebook and harass you any way they can find possible. At least until you put your foot down and say, “Look, we had a good time the other night, but that is where it ends.” These are usually the guys I may only kiss on the cheek in farewell when we part ways for the end of the night. If that, even.
Only the lucky ones get kisses on the cheek, and extremely lucky ones get more than that!
Okay….Stop thinking that I take every guy home with me. I don’t go home with anyone I just met or even go home with them on a first date. Second and third dates, we’ll talk. Even then, that doesn’t either of our clothes are hitting the carpet that night.
Ironically, I’ve ended up sleeping over at a few places with the guys I went out with. Gentlemen they have so far proven to be, and it’s refreshing. They’ve offered up their beds so I wouldn’t have to sleep on their couches (apparently they are very uncomfortable and will damage me in some way, shape or form. Whatever.) So I end up sleeping in their bed, and usually I’m out having a few too many shots of Jose (him and I are taking a break). This renders me incapable of driving myself home, so these nice guys put me up for the night. They’ve even generously allowed me to crash not only in their beds, but also in a set of their own pajamas.
I hear seeing a girl walk around in sweatpants is a serious turn-on for most guys. How about that? Not only did these guys have a beautiful girl sleeping in their very own beds, but also in a pair of their favorite pajama pants. They said it themselves, they give me their top-notch pair. They don’t want me feeling uncomfortable at all (Seriously…aren’t they the best?)
Now, you would think these guys are pulling these smooth moves all in an attempt to woo me in some way, shape or form that would later result in one thing: Me losing my pants. The surprising, and refreshing, revelation I have come across with these few men? They just want me to be comfortable and happy. If that means telling them to go away while I sleep, they’re okay with it. They check in on me in the morning, and we go from there. One even offered me a spare toothbrush he had in his bathroom drawer to use so my mouth wouldn’t taste so terrible in the morning when I woke up.
One even laid right next to me after helping me to his bed. We didn’t touch or anything. We just laid next to each other and talked about the most random things. I had sobered up mostly at this point, but it was one of the most fun conversations I’ve ever had. We were just talking, and it really was wonderful. He made me giggle at the most random things, let alone we talked about the most random things. The stock market, what he does for a living, where I want to end up now that I’m done with school, the Avengers movie, what qualifies art to be art, the first time we actually met, hockey versus tennis, how we take our coffee, and so many other things.
I know I keep using the same word over and over again, but it was refreshing to lie there and simply talk to someone (specifically a male) without worry of him trying to take advantage of me in my semi-drunken stupor in the hopes of getting into my pants.
“Don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to be dumb.”
This is often the feeling I get when talking to a majority of men. Why do they speak to me in this way? Because I’m a female who has a brain and isn’t afraid to speak the words running across it. Thanks for feeling my pain and calling (most!) men out on their sexist nature, Helena Christensen, a supermodel who speaks six languages.
All in all, I’ve had quite a great weekend. And yes, I am still without a personal laptop, so I’m jumping from one computer to the next to get my words and stories out to you. Let’s be real. I don’t just do this for you readers…I also do it for me. Selfish, yes, but everyone has their guilty indulgences.
Until then, keep on truckin’!