Confessions of A Naughty Girl

A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Re-action

You might be wondering where the hell I've been. This is an excellent question.

What's more important is that I am back and better than ever. Or maybe just more contemplative. Either way, good news if you're still hangin' in there, checking this ratty old blog. I've been channeling Elvis Presley lately - "a little less conversation, a little more action" - or in this case, "re-action" - but we'll see if we can try to turn it around, starting with this post.

You know, being single and in your twenties can be so shallow and frivolous. It's all about attention - how much we're getting, who we're getting it from, how we're getting it, if we're getting enough, how to get it back from someone. It becomes this mental hierarchy of "who wants to f*ck me". It becomes games and game playing, priorities, lists, needs, wants, potential...it's a mess. If we're getting enough, we're happy. If we're not getting any, we're miserable. And yet even worse - if we're not getting it from who we want it from, well, clear the sidewalks!

It's always hard to see someone you were once "with" (either in a biblical, relationship, or other sense) to be with another person. I don't care what kind of relationship it is or how it unraveled - if the person's seen you naked, there are always going to be some issues.

As I discussed with one of my friends yesterday, I am always the girl to have to sack up and face it, because I am continuously confronted by old guys with new girls. I used to wonder why it is this way, but I've very much resigned myself to the fact that I am a transitory girl - for most guys, I seem to fall into one of four categories:

1. girl I want to f*ck
2. girl I think is like, the greatest friend ever

(in a select few cases)

3. both

(in other cases)

4. neither

Now, if you'll quickly revisit the above, "girl with date potential" is not among the categories. Don't get me wrong - there are many times when I enjoy falling into aforementioned categories, but at some point - you know, after say, 50 of these situations - your ego begins taking a bruising. You start to wonder exactly where in the process you fell out of the consideration set.

I've been told many a time, by many a different guy, that I'm the "fun" one. I'm fun. I'm just adventurous enough to feel dangerous, just knowledgable enough to be dangerous - I am the go-to girl if you want to laugh until your sides split, or if you want to dance with someone who knows all of the words to a Snoop song. But I am not the relationship girl. I am not the girl who is going to mindf*ck you until you're monogamous, because if you want to be with me, I should never have to manipulate you into wanting that. I am not the girl who is going to call you at all hours to make sure you're not poking some other girl, because I am going to trust that you aren't. I am not going to sit quietly on the sidelines and shut my mouth and look pretty, because I have a lot to say, and I am pretty, and I don't think that shutting my mouth is going to affect that perception one way or another. Don't get me wrong - there's nothing wrong with being this girl. But I'm not that girl. And I can't pretend that I am.

There have been a lot of times where I've employed "the letting go". Many times because I could tell that the guy wants the kind of girl I described above. I knew I didn't fit the bill, and I knew I didn't want to try. And yet even in situations where you knew it would have never worked, or you made the choice to walk away - even then, still hard. Still hard to see that person who you might have once thought was going to fill the role of "Romantic Hero" - even for just a second - talk about another girl like she was the most beautiful human being that ever lived, or stand in line with her at the bar to buy her some expensive, over-the-top, obnoxious, just-as-bad-as-a-Mai-Tai fruity girly drink that yet again makes you wonder if he was ever really into a girl who enjoys kicking off the night with a shot of Jager and some Jack Daniels.

Even so, you find yourself wishing that it was you. That maybe, just once, you weren't standing on the sidelines watching that guy give to her so freely what you feel like you had to fight so hard for in the first place.

At its best, it's a situation that pokes at you a little. One that's remedied with a couple of drinks and the knowledge that you're probably better off. But at its worst, it will eat at you and destroy your faith. It will send you into a tailspin and plunge you into a world of insecurity. It ignites this sort of "me vs. her" mentality that, at the end of the day, nets out to being of no use to you other than to serve it's intended purpose of driving you absolutely batty. That's not really so much a fun place to be.

But this isn't a pathetic, "poor me" post. It's not necessarily a bad thing. It doesn't destroy my faith in figuring out what or who is right for me. You only need one, you know. It does, however, make me wonder if there's a reason why I continue to put myself in these situations - like almost never fully letting my guard down, or pretending like I don't care when I really am hurt. No one is superhuman, least of all me. And maybe if I stopped pretending like I didn't care - if I allowed myself to be okay with not feeling okay, instead of trying to cover it up, maybe things would be different, who knows.

Any thoughts or suggestions? Because until I figure out why this happens, you can find me at the local watering hole, sneering at the girl ordering a "Sex on the Beach". Chances are, I used to date her boyfriend.

posted by KA @ 11:49 AM