I don’t get it. I really don’t. Just when I thought I’m finally coming to grips with my own mind, how it works and how and why I act in certain ways, I start behaving and thinking like a total stranger to myself.
I’m talking about romance here, folks. Why is it that some people are able to run so freely into it and jump from relationship to relationship as if they’re a pawn on a chess board, while others are more guarded and less optimistic?
I’m going to be totally honest here – most of the time, when I don’t have an interest in anyone, I wonder WHEN and IF I’ll ever find someone I like. Then, when I finally do, I spend a large amount of mental energy on convincing myself that I DON’T like this person.
Case in point: there’s this guy (we’ll call him Jasper) who I’ve been spending a lot of time with. I like him. I’m sure of it. But I can already see myself pushing this away. I don’t want to change my life. I love life at the moment. I love living how I’m living and being with the people I choose to be around. But isn’t it true that when people start getting “closer”, they have to start factoring each other into things and thus change the course of their life?
I’m probably being a bit premature here – it’s early days and 90% of the time I don’t even know what’s going on. I keep convincing myself that this person “cannot possibly be attracted to me” and “only hangs out with me because I’m a fallback, a stepping stone for greater things.” And while you’ll probably think that’s a horrible way to think, it is a weapon I commonly use to keep risky situations at bay.
I’m already pissed off at myself that I’ve spent nearly 300 words babbling about this subject already.
Change of topic – so it was my 27th birthday yesterday (which I already mentioned). It was great. Some friends took me out to a surprise birthday dinner in Back Bay (which was AMAZING – I haven’t even been out in that area yet and I’ve been in Boston for five months). Of course, two and a half Hendricks martinis later I was loving everyone and talking to strangers (must stop doing that ALL of the time – once in a while is great, not every damn night).
A friend of mine in England, who used to LOVE emailing me obscene things and random definitions of dirty sex acts (don’t ask – he just thought I had a very innocent mind and felt it was his duty to corrupt it), has a rather unhealthy obsession with the website www.urbandictionary.com. In light of my birthday yesterday, he told me to look up my first name on the site. Here’s just a few of the definitions that came up when I entered Diana:
1) A girl with big boobs and an ass, usually blonde, great in bed and although may seem stupid at times, is very intelligent, although she herself may not realize it.
2) The most gorgeous girl you have ever seen. She has big beautiful eyes and she is small but so cute that you want to pick her up. She smiles all the time and when she smiles it makes you want to smile.
3)Completely strung out on caffiene so that words are unintelligible and rodent-like, muscle spasms are frequent, and random fascinations dominate speech and action, e.g. shiny objects, scarfs, capes, and magic tricks.
4)A person who traps puppies under chair legs, breaks windows with bowling pins, gets freaky monster-rashes on her wrist, is able to tan while wearing jeans, is worshipped by bugs (but not flies), eats mashed potatoes with peanut butter, and is more awesome than you.
Currently, I think definitions 3 & 4 are probably the most accurate (although my fascination with capes is waning), but I’m going to strive to make 1 & 2 more applicable. Just don’t know what I’m going to do about the boob thing – no way am I enhancing them surgically. Maybe I can just get someone to get me pregnant. But if I do that, hmmm….I’d better stop this “self-preservation” shit or I’ll have the chest of a 12-year old boy for the rest of my life. What a pickle.
“When life hands you lemons, I say ‘fuck the lemons’ and bail.”
Paul Rudd, Forgetting Sarah Marshall
