Monday, August 07, 2006

It has taken me a while to figure out where I am in the post-breakup universe of feelings and stages. Maybe it's taken so long because the end of my last serious relationship left me completely numb for over a year and ignorant of my sexual needs (which included a very man-free first semester of college). Finally, after hours of quite reflection in bed with the covers pulled over my head, I think I've finally diagnosed my post-break-up condition; I am in desperate need of a rebound fling to satisfy the physical (and not just sexual) needs burgeoning within in me but have neither the means nor the capacity for such a fling.

For one thing, I've never been one who really enjoyed ‘dating’. I just actually hate it. The nervous phone calls, then getting to know someone who will invariably maintain a level of attraction completely different from you, nervous and expensive dates, the “When do we finally fuck and can we cuddle and does one of us have to call afterwards and what if the quality of sex is better/worse than the relationship that was a shame to begin with” bullshit. Nothing about it appeals to me. Not to mention the fact that my last relationship has, in fact, left me dead inside and the cold, unfeeling shrew I've become has no interest making small talk of coffee I don't drink anyway.

Finally, I happen to live in Arcata, a small college town that is geographically and even culturally isolated (I mean, where else do people actually still sell tie dye? Costume shops?). So even if I wanted to go out there and find some cute-ish nice enough guy to spend a few meals with and take for a couple of spins around the ol’ bedroom, the chances of me finding a suitable guy, who I haven't already fucked, and hasn't dated one of my close friends, and isn't gay, and isn't somehow personally connected to me, are slim. Winning the lottery slim.

Which is why I have surrendered myself to a strict regimen of television, beer, and online shopping to get me through this rough patch. As long as my credit cards hold out, and my roommate keeps renting movies, I know I can make it through this, and move on to the next stage in my post-breakup development; whoring around like there’s no tomorrow!