or rather not dating.
last night i met a friend for drinks after work at a bar of her choosing.
she's having man-troubles.
a quick summary--she's 25, dating a 37 divorcee from morocco. she can't afford to pay her rent, he's not ready for her to move in. she thinks he can solve her problems, he thinks she should solve them herself.
and somewhere in between her deciding that the key to her manhattan survival was to get a 2 bedroom apartment with her ex and her sullen discovery she might not have the patience to wait for her current BF to pack up all his baggage and make space for her in his 1 bedroom brooklyn abode, she quasi expressed concern that she thought i might have turned lesbian.
because i don't date.
(insert record scratch and abrupt stop of music--->here.)
whoa. wait. hang on.
i don't have a boyfriend, i don't take home random guys from the bar, and i haven't found any one with a penis worthy of a second date in over three years and now i'm a LESBIAN???
how the hell did this happen? and if a close friend of mine's starting to wonder, what the hell is my family starting to think?!
on top of that, two weeks ago, another friend of mine (and the only one who reads my blog) recommended i read "calling the one". a book about using the laws of attraction to call love into your life.
no offense amanda, but i literally couldn't even pick up the book at barnes and noble with out cringing...and once i read the back cover i had to immediately leave the self-help section because my dry heaving was warranting strange looks from the guy next to me.
i DO have love in my life. walk into my apartment and it's like Lord of the Flies, cat-style. currently, one has actually vaccated my lap and another has taken its place. i have friends, i have family...but i have a career.
i got sick of the whole bar-dating-random sex thing in college. i hit an all-time low during the first semester of my fifth year. all my friends had left, my heart was broken, and i became a raging, slutty alcoholic. i managed to block quite a bit of this previous life from my memory, but recently for some reason it's been coming back to me in bits and pieces. just last week my mind was wandering and i had a flashback of getting really wasted, having sex on the way home from the bar in some bushes, and waking up the next morning bruised and missing my cell phone.
at the end of the semester, my self esteem was at an all time low, all my drinking had resulted in a 10 lb weight gain (think britney pre-ER), and i became decidedly over it. i began to focus on me. making ME feel better, and finding ME a killer job post-graduation. ME. ME. ME.
when i finally graduated that may, i pulled a nicole richie, lost more than the 10 lbs i had gained, lost the slutty rockstar persona, and had a job offer in connecticut.
since then, i've moved around so much that it just wasn't practical for me to try and date. in connecticut, i just wasn't ready. i didn't know anybody, and my trust issues didn't allow me to even entertain the idea of dating somebody and getting wrapped up in his world instead of figuring out mine first. in ohio, i didn't date because God forbid i'd fall in love and get stuck...never able to leave.
and now, in new york, i watch the news WAY too much and don't really feel like ending up sunday morning's headline because i decided to take home the hot guy from the bar.
i've also been through a lot. i've moved on my own, struggled on my own, and i've gotten where i've gotten because i've worked really damn hard to get it. and quite frankly, i think that whoever is lucky enough to make it to round two better be pretty damn great. i'm all about the whole "you have to kiss a lot of frogs" philosophy, as in, not every guy you meet is going to be prince charming, but does that really mean i've got to kiss them?
why the hell put myself through the misery of round 2 if we all know it's just not going to work out? can't i just be alone rather than attempt to date my old college neighbor who not only appears to be a closet alcoholic but also has some severe emotional issues to work through JUST because he's made it fairly apparent that he'd love to sleep with me?
since when does having standards mean that i'm a lesbian?