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So, one of the guys I "like" is on the verge of getting married, and the other one is inappropriate in so many ways, I wouldn't know how to begin listing them all.
They're both unavailable, in other words.
This is an old pattern of mine.
I suppose what it means is that despite my yearning for another voice in the inner dialogue, another body to touch, I really prefer solitude.
In Ithaca, I signed up for a popular online dating site and went out with a neverending series of men with whom I had not the slightest spark of chemistry. Just so I could say I was dating. Otherwise, I'd be doomed forever to carry a torch for the Feckless X who is not nearly as romantic a figure in real life as he became after he dumped me. I mean, I lived with him for 17 years and for at least seven of those years, I was trying to find an exit strategy. The problems arose when he found the exit strategy first. What can I say? I have serious abandonment issues.
So, I'm thinking of rewriting the profile on the popular dating site to update it to reflect my present circumstances. I don't have a clue though what to write, though.
What do I want?
Someone who gets my obscure movie/book/song references.
Someone who shares my interest in what places used to be before they became the places they are now.
Really, everything else – including gender, physical appearance and whether or not they would approve of me having dinner with my X if my X came to town (a popular question on the popular online dating site) – is negotiable.
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In other news, I am in a restless mood, which I hope means I'm in a generative mood, since I'm trying to finish a science fiction story for Clark (nom de LJ), formerly the Dom.
Also, I committed myself to baking a sweet potato cake with caramelized apples without reading the recipe through very carefully, and now I find out the last step calls for a fucking blow torch. Huh? I mean, come on, New York Magazine! So I'm trying to invent a workaround.
They're both unavailable, in other words.
This is an old pattern of mine.
I suppose what it means is that despite my yearning for another voice in the inner dialogue, another body to touch, I really prefer solitude.
In Ithaca, I signed up for a popular online dating site and went out with a neverending series of men with whom I had not the slightest spark of chemistry. Just so I could say I was dating. Otherwise, I'd be doomed forever to carry a torch for the Feckless X who is not nearly as romantic a figure in real life as he became after he dumped me. I mean, I lived with him for 17 years and for at least seven of those years, I was trying to find an exit strategy. The problems arose when he found the exit strategy first. What can I say? I have serious abandonment issues.
So, I'm thinking of rewriting the profile on the popular dating site to update it to reflect my present circumstances. I don't have a clue though what to write, though.
What do I want?
Someone who gets my obscure movie/book/song references.
Someone who shares my interest in what places used to be before they became the places they are now.
Really, everything else – including gender, physical appearance and whether or not they would approve of me having dinner with my X if my X came to town (a popular question on the popular online dating site) – is negotiable.
In other news, I am in a restless mood, which I hope means I'm in a generative mood, since I'm trying to finish a science fiction story for Clark (nom de LJ), formerly the Dom.
Also, I committed myself to baking a sweet potato cake with caramelized apples without reading the recipe through very carefully, and now I find out the last step calls for a fucking blow torch. Huh? I mean, come on, New York Magazine! So I'm trying to invent a workaround.
