Destination: Journey

Surprise, surprise, Juan is the SAME dumb jerk I remember 10 years ago. My secret? I SUSPECTED it all along and didn’t get emotionally vested! It kinda sucks that all I’m really searching for is some guy who surprises the hell out of me by NOT being an asshole, so being right about this is hardly a something to gloat over, but coming away unscathed is a small triumph for stoopid girls everywhere. So what happened to THIS foray into dancing with a latin lothario?

Juan and I used to talk two, three times a week for hours at a time, but all of that ended when I sent him risqué pics about three weeks ago. But did that upset me? Surprisingly, no. At this point I’ve got a lot more prospects in my pocket, not in the dating arena, but in life in general. He’s caring for his 21-year-old brother with M.R. in Ft. Worth, while also having to deal with his deadbeat older brothers and their claims on his mother’s house. Do I want to be a part of that noise? HEY-ALL NO! So I figured, you can’t get exposed to herpes through e-mail (yet), so why not? We then moved on (I’d hate to use the word “progress”) to dirty e-mails, all in the dark hours of the night, all when we’re both inebriated (well, at least for my part I can vouch for my own drunken state), and now I’ve lost the respect that used to commandeer his time.

He used to boast to me “You know, you’re the only person whose calls I always pick up.” But that was just a part of the game. He was grooming me for such a long time, and it took damn near a year, but he thinks he can have me. The fucked up part is that now he doesn’t want me, because that whole notion of responsibility just scares the shit out of him. Whenever I get down about the decisions I’ve made, I can always tell myself: “Well, you’re not as fucked in the head as Juan, so you’ve got a tiny chance of coupling up before you die.” While that is a pretty shitty thing about someone else I will defend my position with this gem: I'm almost 32 and more single than ever- whatever comforts me!

This whole thing is affirming in one way because it also feels like I’m growing up. Well, I’d hardly say that sending pics of my goodies is a form of maturation, but not being so wrapped up in the notion that I’m giving away pieces of myself when I fool around with someone. Ha ha! Though I will admit that when he sent me a picture of his johnson, I was fully sober and on my way to work. As soon as the picture came into focus, my jaw DROPPED open, I threw the phone into the passengers seat and screamed! Ha ha! It was about 3 blocks later when I realized my mouth was STILL OPEN! I don't know if it's a Catholic good girl thing, or if all women are always 13-yr-olds inside, but I STILL can't look at the pic for more than 5 seconds w/out feeling extremely naughty and putting it away before I get caught. BY WHOM?! I dunno...but it just feels like I should be caught! :-) While I’d say that’s a pretty good indication that I’m not quite ready to act out the fantasies in the flesh, it is cool that I’m not losing my shit over some controlling asshole who is afraid to fall in love. If anyone is going to be afraid to fall in love, that role will be played by yours truly. :-)

Speaking of sex acts, DJ stood me up! If you don’t recall, he’s the guy I lost my virginity to as a sophomore in college. He found me on myspace and on a few occasions has asked me to send dirty pics of myself to his cell phone. (Has the whole fucking world gone mad? Damn that Tila Tequila!) The only reason I chose to have DJ pop my cherry to begin with was because he was quite the slut, and I was somehow convinced that losing my virginity to a man I could not respect, therefore could not possibly love, would strip sex of all power, and then I could mug down with guys and not give a shit, just like many of my cold sore-spreading Aggie buds. Little did I know that interlude would lead to a summer of lovesickness, and countless hours of worry over the fact that in that one night I probably swapped fluids with well over 20 people. BLLLEEEECHH! (I dunno, I guess I really didn’t think through that whole VD angle when I was searching for viable de-flowering options)

Anyway, correspondence had pretty much ground to a halt; we had talked more than once about my feelings very uncomfortable with a married man coming onto me, which of course I was not receptive to. As fearful as I am of being cheated on, it would be pretty fucked up of me to be responsive, so I mostly just talked to him about how he could potentially spice up his own sex life w/his wife. Of course he pulled out the old "She just won't try/it's all her fault/poor me" bs. It had been more than 4 months since our last correspondence, so when he said he was coming to town for drinks, I had my reservations but could hardly say “I REALLY don’t feel like being an ice queen for a night in order to keep hold of my chastity.” So I said sure and figured I couldn’t be the only person in the area who wanted his attention, and that he’d be off to party with his “boys” by 11pm. Whether that be a euphemism for his wrinkly winkie, or his actual O.D. Phi brothers was going to be the only mystery of the evening. But he asked me to meet him, then never called again. I should be very relieved because in this way I was also able to remove him from my friends list. Unlike Juan, who can at least stop thinking about his nads long enough to get a decent conversation going, DJ had all of the trappings of a situation that was going to end badly for me. Stepping away from that is a good thing.

And to round out my latest romantic disappointments…well, that’s not fair at all. I’ve only met this guy once, and we had a pretty good time drinking Guinness and talking about music. I’m not sure that there’s enough chemistry there to sustain anything other than a drunken fuck, and since we all know that’s just not my style, I think I will be looking forward to lots of beer and lots of cold showers. Could be worse! I could be drinking Natural Light by myself in my efficiency apartment while the twentysomethings are partying all around me (like I’ve done the two weekends before.) But knowing that even my 20 minutes in HEB after work today had me exposed to approximately 300% more potentially viable friends/dates, as opposed to the same 20 minute grocery shopping in Seguin where I'm dodging leering meskins w/teardrop tattoos on their faces, shopping for WIC products, is something that makes me smile. While I am too hard on myself to think that I’m exactly where I need to be, I do know that I’m doing a sight better than I had been doing, and at the very least, the scenery on this journey just got better.