So, when in doubt, when you’ve eaten dinner at 10:35p.m. because you suddenly thought you were ravenous for polenta and roast beef stacks with carrots and you realize that maybe your body is not happy with that choice at about 11:19p.m. when you’re due to be well on your way into your daily post, you should blog, as ever, about love.
This group is interesting. It’s strange. It is pulling me towards my best and shittiest behaviors and inner thoughts. It’s this Mst3k group for people who are looking to date, and I don’t know if I’m looking to date, but I know that I’m looking, I have eyeballs and such and occasionally a twinge roundabout that reminds me that I am a lady with the parts of a lady that into, in generalities, the parts of a man. If I may be so coarse. So, there’s more gents than ladies in this group. There’s a few people in the state, but it’s just starting so, there aren’t more than you could count on one hand for me, men and women included. And this, I think, is good for me, because there isn’t that instant feeling of needing to progress yourself towards a meeting so quickly. The men and women of the group are all, in some manner, geeks and nerds. We’re all into some Venn diagram of genre literature/video games/comic books, you know the stuff. We’re all at least on that level tangentially related to one another. It does provide for an easy place to start with saying, oh, hey there. You like x, I like x, isn’t x great? Aren’t we great for liking x? There aren’t strait-laced jocks who want to barge in and look you up and down and put a price on you. Even that’s an awful…ah.
But that isn’t to say there isn’t some curious shit that goes down when you dump a pile of random geeks of varying ages in a “room” and say…all of y’all (with the exception of the gay and lesbian members who are a bit starved for choice at the moment) are open to the idea of “it” if they can just be convinced that you can provide them with “it”…so there’s a lot of unearned compliments (it could just be that I have zero comfort with anyone telling me I’m beautiful, particularly if I haven’t formed any level of attachment to them) and near-flounces and “nice guy” shit. Ladies owing dudes time, messages, forgiveness of problems and defects. But I can’t for a minute call anyone up on that if I am just as image-focused and projecting all my body issues out there wildly on everyone else so that a bit of fairly clever back and forth with a guy gets a bit deflated in my head, not by the epic distance of states upon states between us, but because I have an image of what I’d like to be happening.
Basically, there’s another guy in the group I like – a couple, really – but one I had a dream about, one who reminds me, I’m sure, on a distant level of Mr. Rochester. I dunno if he likes me, only, that like a giddy teenybopper, I noticed he liked a picture of me. Which feels like something, despite not being anything. All these behaviors that I’m messing around with…I know how childish they are. I know that teenagers do them and recognize that they make people feel like shit and grow up and stop. Game playing.
It’s just pushing me to get clear about my business. That I don’t have to feel mad at myself that I have a preference. It’s nobody’s fault.
One more day until we enter the Twilight Zone.