Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The summer free from skirt-chasing.

I usually don't talk about my love-life on here, because if I did, I'd post even less frequently than I currently do. (But, let me tell you who does: this girl right here. And she's great.)

I've spent the vast majority of my adult life as a single guy. I'm mostly alright with that; if I was completely alright with that, I doubt I'd have brought it up. (Hell, I'm alright with being right-handed, which is possibly why I never mention that fact on here... until now.) And I guess I could give a laundry-list of excuses:
  • haven't met the right one
  • haven't met the right one at the right time
  • shirtless, I don't look like Matthew McConaughey
  • I tend not to find myself surrounded by the ladies
  • I have a third arm
  • overall romantic incompetence
I could go on all day, lamenting my shortcomings — women love that, right? — but I'll save you (and my therapist*) the trouble. I'm fine, I'm (fairly) sure things'll click eventually, and I've been told by a few non-my-mom women that I'm something of a catch.

But, here's the thing: the search, the relentless search, is fucking tiring. And it's not an easy thing to turn off: we're hard-wired to find someone to screw to pass on that ol' DNA. Women may hear a biological clock ticking, and I'll grant you that's probably not too pleasant an ordeal. But it's not like we fellows get off scot-free either.

However, this summer — today being the first day thereof — I hereby vow to make a concerted effort to NOT actively chase skirts. I mean, if I'm out with some buds somewhere and I strike up a conversation with a Heather Graham look-alike who votes lefty, has a poster of Lou Whitaker on her wall and plays bass in a My Bloody Valentine tribute band,** I'm probably going to have to follow up on that. But that's probably going to be just about it, I think.

There was a very, very brief period of my life where I was able to turn off the radar: it was back in the late '90s, it only lasted a couple of months, and even though I was in the belly of the pressure-cooker that is the University of Waterloo, I'd never felt so relaxed. I realize that's a long time ago, and my life's a lot more complicated than it was back then... but, who knows? I think it's worth a shot.
* Dr. Jack Daniels; you may have heard of him.
** If one of these doesn't exist, I really should start one. I bought a bass off my brother this weekend — I've been babysitting it for months, so I figured I should stop screwing around and make it legal — and perhaps my future bride could use it.

1 comment:

DB said...

I'm giving you until next week.