I realize this isn’t news, nor is it even a surprise, but it is one of those things I think bears repeating…men and women are different. I know, hold onto your wine glasses, that was groundbreaking material. But, truly, with each and every new experience with the hairier (you hope) sex, I am reminded of how we are just wired differently. And, while, I wouldn’t trade our sense of style, taste or amazing shoes to switch teams, I wouldn’t mind having their ability to compartmentalize emotion vs. pure lust just every once in a while. We women talk a good game about being in it for the fun of it, or being able to handle the whole friends with benefits concept but really, who are we kidding?! We know, two kisses in with a hottie and we are picking china patterns. (or at least picturing long weekend getaways and stolen whispers about tomorrow while men are thinking “what time is the game tomorrow? Do I need more beer?”
I have been struck with this desire to have a circuitry overload because, even though the other ½ of the double trouble duo, warned me I knew what I was getting into, I am having a hard time not wanting more. Okay, more of what is probably a fair question at this point as I haven’t written about this yet. Just remember, I’m 42, single and have been on a dry spell lately!
We know this past weekend was the annual adrenaline rush for me at the festival I’m involved in and this year the rush came from more than just the random flirting and fun innuendos with other volunteers as I became acquainted with one of our celebrity talents we bring in for the weekend. Remember my list of 20+ characteristics of the perfect guy? Well, forget those as he didn’t fit into any of them but boy was he hot! As I said to a friend at one point (when I was just in the admiring phase) “he is my kind of yummy”. And, I guess the CA/VA blond with a slight twang did it for this Jersey Shore boy as he went out of his way to flirt his way into me spending several hours after the event with him…(yes, in his hotel room). Now, before you label me as Samantha, instead of Carrie, I still didn’t have sex with him. Why? I don’t know! I somehow think going back to his hotel room and messing around is okay, after knowing him 10 hours but actual sex, no, that is off limits. Yes, I’m a freak!
Now, of course is when the dilemma sets in. During two different visits at his hotel, 2 days with him at the festival and lots of fun smiles in between, I was cool as a cucumber…content with my life, not looking to be swept off my feet, okay with the completely different lives we lead…and really, all of that is true. But, now that he has flown back to the other coast, and I’m coming off the adrenaline rush of the weekend, my coolness has warmed just a tad and I’m stuck with wondering if he’ll get bored of me (if he isn’t already) before I do him. Yes, a very healthy way to start the day, I know!
Why do women (or is it just me) wake up wondering if he thought about them during the night? Why do we assume he is “a player” without any real proof? And, why, do we make our stomachs hurt wondering if we’ll hear from him? I’ve always been the one to do the leaving (as you’ve read about in here) but for some reason my confidence/ego isn’t as healthy as it has been in the past. Does that start to go along with the perky boobs, hot butt and eyesight? If so, I’m now pissed! I like my sassy side!
Well, since I’m pretty sure the local plastic surgeon specializes in implants and liposuction, not chemical lobotomies, I guess I’m stuck with being a chick in this instance. Note to self: avoid sappy movies, romance novels and ice cream for the next few weeks.
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