I suppose you all are wondering how my blind dates went, right?  I know you are because what else could you possibly have to do besides worry about my personal life.  I am kidding of course but I am pretty sure you were still probably wondering just a little bit. It is hard not to become slightly invested in the lives of those who are so willing to overshare.  I know this because you bastards have tricked me into being just as invested in your lives. *Waves fist at computer screen.

Surely I haven’t been blogging because I have been so busy having crazy monkey sex with virtual strangers.  That is after all one of my favorite pass times. (Really it is.  If this comes as a surprise to you, you should go back and read some posts from this time last year.) Surely there is a reason that doesn’t have anything to do with a surprise non-payment of an internet bill and the drama and stress of having guests here for the holidays.

The truth is I have not gone on said blind dates because I am a big chicken shit wuss.  I also haven’t had sex in six fucking months because the idea of having sex just to have sex sounds about as appealing to me as having my pubic area waxed one hair at a time.  I just can’t bring myself to even fain charm or wit.

Before you go getting all misty eyed and proud of me for being all grown up let me assure you that emotional growth has nothing to do with either of these choices. I have not gone said blind dates for several reasons. The primary reason being, I have absolutely no faith in my casual acquaintances and coworkers’ ability to find me a tolerable dinner (let alone sexual) companion.  This is followed closely by my lack of enthusiasm about dating a man “my age.” Age in my estimation is relative and I have no desire to date someone in their late thirties or forties.  I do not have my shit together in many areas and while I am striving to mature emotionally I still feel stunted in many aspects. I am attracted to younger men (not Extreme Cougar status) and I enjoy dating guys who are still peak physical specimens.  The other issue is that in my community I am what the men in these parts would refer to as a liberal, feminist transplant.  This is not appealing to me or perspective dates.

I have had at least two opportunities to have sex with past partners, of both genders and passed both up this month.  Recycling just isn’t something I have any interest in doing and the idea of putting in what could be a considerable amount of work(training) to establish a long term FWB situation isn’t something I can muster the energy to do.  I refer again to the long and arduous process that would be the most painful, interminable Brazilian ever.

I know I am probably still scared given my gross lapse in judgment and colossal display of poor self-respect that was Guy with the Smile but I also need to just get past it and fucking date already.  I need to get my shit together. The longer I go without dating the more cynical and pissy I become when someone actually expresses interest in me.  I don’t like being a giant douche- baggy, snotty girl who can’t get laid because her personality just sucks.  I want to have fun and socialize and I definitely want to be having sex with someone other than myself. Six months seems so long (and yes this is coming from the girl who abstained for thirteen years.)

Something has to change before I become some old shrew, spinster librarian.  Oh yeah! That is already happening.¹

¹This isn’t even a possibility. This could never and will never happen. I am attempting to be self-deprecating.