So I’m trying to be more honest with myself and this entails being more honest with all of you. Oddly enough, I find it easier to be honest on the internet than I do in my personal interactions (which, come to think of it isn’t all that odd at all—the internet fosters a certain sense of anonymity, which is why it can be so dangerous.)
First order of business? Date #7, aka the man across the state who I’ve never actually met. If I’m to be brutally honest with myself, I’ve already fallen head over heels for him—at least for the idea of him. (And the significance of the number seven is not lost on me.)
Fortunately I’m a bit smarter than I used to be: I know it’s just an idea, and that my version of him may be completely different than reality. Plus, there’s always the off chance that someone might happen between now and next Friday—that he won’t actually come.
The last time a man told me he’d like to visit me in Philadelphia I got all excited and wasted an entire afternoon planning the “cultural highlight” components of his trip. I made a list—an actual list—of my favorite places, and got all bent out of shape over whether or not a trip of such distance on his part would necessitate sex on mine (not that I was against having sex with him, I just wanted know if I should schedule some… you know… down time during our cultural highlights tour of Philadelphia).
Long story short, the proposed trip never took place. I got my hopes up and although I was somewhat relieved to discover that I still had the will to hope, I was also disappointed.
And determined not to make the same mistake again.
Which is why I’m not going to.
Or rather, why I’m going to try not to.
To this end, I am proud to report that thus far I have not:
- Planned an itinerary
- Purchased sexy underwear
- Googled our astrological compatibility (In fact, I don’t even know his sign! How Zen of me is that?)
Aside from taking a brief stroll around the back of the Art Museum after last month’s press preview to check which of the gazebos offered the best view, I haven’t done any planning whatsoever.
(And no, trying on my vintage “tea dress” with three different belts does not count. I could wear that dress with anyone. Just watch me.)