Deconstructing a Date

I went out with the boy of interest last night. My friend asked this morning whether there was a spark, a vibe or an intangible attraction. I don’t know. It was a sociable, enjoyable but chaste date. I’m still trying to deconstruct whether he likes me and/or wants to shag me. I quite endorse his need to be Mr Single (ha! I think I might start calling him that). I was being honest when I said I didn’t want a relationship either. If I think about spending oodles of time with the one person – I can honestly say I don’t need that right now – I am existing quite happily sans companionship. However I do feel compelled to pursue boys of interest.

My GP diagnosed cavewoman syndrome. I was bemoaning my tendency to waste time and brain energy thinking about men – and she reassured me that it was natural sexual and reproductive forces at work. I can blame biology.

It’s difficult for me to be discerning about love and attraction at this point, as I think it’s tangled up with my craving for signs that I am lovable and that at some point I will meet someone I want to grow old with. I guess I have to accept the reality that I still have a million and one things to do that are things for me, myself and I.

I wish I’d bottled his affection, so that I could open it up and sniff it and sprinkle it on when I need a fix. Parfum de Self-Esteem.
I fear this blog has become some droll version of Carrie Bradshaw style triviality. I look forward to the day when I don’t need to leak my lustful passions and naïve confusion onto the page and can discuss instead brainwaves from the other lobes.

Thoughts of the last 24hours

Ms OK is attracted to men with bad eyesight.
Ms OK is a tennis pro trapped inside a *******’s body.
Ms OK spilt red wine over her carpet, it’s been a good week. Fuck it’s been a week. She’s getting through it without doing anything too extreme or controversial.
Ms OK wants to ask – is it ok if we shag again? Can we just get together and talk again without me being a weirdo?
Ms OK wants to explain her ambivalence / caginess; or at least try to.
Ms OK needs to realise each day is to be lived, not clocked up or counted.
Ms OK got up-sold on her bike repairs.
The powder absorbing the red wine in Ms OK’s carpet is giving her head spins.
Ms OK enjoyed a bottle of ‘cellared’ wine on her own. Thanks Timothy dear. Thanks Clonakilla. She danced the red wines stains away.
Ms OK gets batman lips when she drinks red wine.

IRONY

I is for irony.
I find out my ex is in hospital with déjà vu on the same day my dear friends become parents.
R is for romance.
Remind me when it's real.
O is for outrageous.
One sleeps with a man; they become a facebook friend.
N is for nonplussed.
Never before have i tried harder not to become obsessed.
Y is for yahoo.
Yes, she got a pash. Pash means shag.