Whatever You Call It

…i’m feeling it.

i’ve always sucked at dating.  i’m sure we’re all clear on that.

and overseas buddy asked me today if she could take me out on a date when she got back to the states in a few months.  i told her it depended on her intent.  i explained that while i’m still technically single, i’ve become “involved” with someone.  she replied that i am therefore NOT single.  that’s news to me!

i will admit, though, that i do NOT know the difference between “talking to someone,” “dating,” “seeing someone,” “going steady” (do people still say that?) and so forth.  honestly, most of my dealings with women just automatically morphed into a relationship, in the true lesbian fashion.  this whole getting to know people and taking things slowly is brand new.  and i think the main reason people need to know what to call it is because the label determines appropriate actions.  ie, what i’m allowed to go OFF about. 

aren’t you technically single if someone has not specifically asked you to be her girlfriend and to be exclusive? and what if you’ve acknowledged that you are exclusive but have not verbally made a commitment to any relationship?…

i guess there’s no black and white to it.

as long as you’re happy…

and i am!!! =o)

so… there’s been some talk lately of the voodoo witch bitch and how my situations seem to fall apart as soon as i blog about them.  but you know, i’ve decided to reclaim my uncanny resistance of all things negative.  i used to feel untouchable by bad intentions and unfavorable energy.  i’m taking that back.  revisiting that belief and holding it true.

one of my horoscopes from my favorite astrology site gave me this today:

One of the main reasons why it’s important to take the time to go within and know where your heart stands is that it makes it easier to recognise the truth when you hear it. Others can’t plant seeds of doubt or cause you to question yourself if you know your heart and your romantic situation well. When you’re being true to yourself you’ll know at once if something is right or wrong.

so with that, i proudly state my current state of contentment with this dating game.  and regardless of its duration, my outlook will remain positive and the voodoo witch bitch can suck it!

oh, yeah… and celibacy is SOOOOO overrated!  wink, wink…

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My Part in the Mess

so i was taking a shower and began my deep thinking (for some reason my deepest thinking and prayer occurs in the shower) about my previous experiences.  i was truly bothered by the fact that i’d been so moved by the recent events.  i had begun to feel that i was in a spiritual battle.  i was beginning to question my faith and some of my most ingrained beliefs.  i felt thoroughly disappointed and let down.  i was considering approaching my pastor for counseling.  and i thought of visiting the buddhist community center to chant with a close friend and open myself to other religious practices… to go searching…

i felt a level of anger i hadn’t ever previously felt.  and there’s this pain.  i mean an actual physical pain.  have you ever been so heartbroken that you feel a strange fluttery stab behind your ribs?  it’s the most difficult thing to explain so i haven’t ever really tried.  and i’m sure heartbroken is the wrong word.  because i’ve certainly not been that invested in anything recently.  but… despair maybe.  and it occurs when i’m really, really horny, too.  it’s like a physical reaction from the fear of being alone?…  i dunno.  like i said, hard to explain.  but very unpleasant.

anywho, these dramatic emotions caused me to just stop and think.  as a gemini, emotions aren’t my thing.  logic is.  so i began to pinpoint my part in the whole mess.  afterall, i’ve encountered some real a-holes but isn’t there a saying about pointing fingers or something?  i figure there has to be something i’m still doing or not doing to attract the foolishness into my realm… after so many lessons and so much time.  i declare that i’m so well educated on the ways of others, the ways of the universe and of myself… that i’m “ready” but i watch in horror, out-of-body style, as i brashly repeat old mistakes.

for example, if i’m really honest with myself… i developed some type of weird desperation i’ve never really had before.  now, i know what we’re all thinking, “peachy, you are WAY too fly for that.”  and we’re right.  i am.  but as cool as i am with being single, and as many benefits to singleness i’m unsure i’d like to sacrifice to coupledom, i do want to be in a relationship.  but i HATE dating.  i hate conjuring up my superb acting skills to pretend like i’m having the time of my life, she’s hilarious, fiercely sexy, and she’s not the dumbest bitch i’ve spoken with in the previous 8 hours.  it’s hard work!  and it’s expensive.  even if you’re dealing with the more chivalrous type and you’re not paying for all the dates… you’ve still got the outfits, the hair, the nails.  unless you want me in my quick-trip-to-walmart-crackhead mode, it’s gonna take some time, effort, and money.  and then, the kicker?  after all this acting and getting-to-know, it’s all for not when they inevitably get added to the hill of a-holes you’re no longer dealing with for some reason or another (typically, they’ve lied about something utterly stupid and irrelevant).  yes, i’m selective.  but i am not unrealistic in my expectations.  even my standards of physical attraction have changed somewhat.  so what gives?

well, with this last situation, i will shamefully admit that i acted quite desperately.  and that’s not attractive.  now, i wasn’t smothering or stalkery.  that’s not me (not that desperate is, either.)  but it’s almost like i was trying to buy my way out of this dating game!  it’s like i’m in some hurried panic to just rip the band-aid off and get this process over with already.  for instance, i paid for each and every solitary “date” we went on!  i ignored the fact that we never really went on a real date… just a bunch of hanging out at the bars of chain restaurants, quick meet-ups for lunch, a house party, a movie night on the couch.  and i always drove to her.  and she doesn’t live very close.  my mom has shared with me ONE rule for dating in all these years: “don’t be too readily available” and i broke it, stomped on it and threw it away. 

i’m almost sick to my stomach to think of it all.  and the crazy thing is, instead of just seeing the error of my ways and reverting to my normal, reasonable standard demanding self, my initial instinct to the dissolution of the “situation” (still haven’t spoken to her) is to go all the way to the left and be the old me.  the old me, y’all, was a mean, get everything she wants at any cost, heartbreaking, no respect for relationships BITCH.  i don’t want to be her again.  and so i wont’ be.  but it still amazes me that this was my first thought. 

even after all this time, with all the lessons learned, all the love for self grown and all the standards raised, this dating thing has really gotten the best of me… perhaps i’m approaching it all wrong.

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Weekend Recap

let’s work our way backward.  this morning i am a zombie sipping coffee.  and this is office coffee.  i have yet to figure out how office coffee remains consistently bland and lifeless from industry to industry, sea to shining sea.  either way, it makes me feel less drunk.  which takes us to last night.

last night, my bff played wing man as we ventured to the “older lady spot”, as several of my younger friends call it.  you see, in atlanta, on the lesbo scene, there are often parties for the really young crowd (20ish… caps… white tees and so forth) and the really old crowd (canes *not kidding!  saw one last night*, pearls, dentures and so forth).  so the dilemma quickly becomes where to go if you’re somewhere in between?…  of course, one could choose to just not go out.  there are many other places besides the club to meet a nice lesbo in atlanta.  i just personally find that it’s one of few places where you can be 99% sure that a lesbo-ish-looking woman is in fact a lesbo.

furthermore, i recently made another declaration (if you’ve missed my explanation of a declaration, read older entries).  i have been single all year.  it’s served its purpose and i’m now over it.  i will bag some hot, young thing by the end of this summer.  i really don’t see doing this winter alone after the year i’ve had. 

so, with that said, the party last night was a bust!  i mean to say that each and every old lesbo in the joint was BUSTED!  save, of course, a few associates i’ve known forever.  i made the crowd a little easier on the eyes with generous servings of grey goose with peace schnapps, chilled with lime.  yaaaay last night… not so much now.  but ahead i forge.  i now have an official mission. 

um… let’s see… saturday…  i cleaned my apartment.  i sat around a little with my mini snuggle bunny before he was off to paw-paw’s (his grandfather).  i ventured out to a pool party/spoken word event.  besides the thick, muggy, mosquito-infested air, several women i could have done without ever seeing in a bathing suit, and very limited amount of eye candy, it was actually pretty cool. 

and finally, friday!  i hit up the local neighborhood bar with the bestie.  always good times!  our favie bartender and comedian is in mexico so we had to settle for martinis made with a lighter hand but they sufficed.  and i saw ms. passion.  she’s such a cutie.  yaaaay for being able to like someone without feeling the need to force it into something else… something more.  i guess there’s something to the automatic braking system i wrote of previously.  only, i’m not sure what happens now that i’ve decided i’m ready to cut the brake line and go full speed ahead.  i’ll careen head-on into either explosive bliss or spectacular disaster.  hey, what’s the worst that can happen?  *cue jaws theme music*