I'm going through a weird phase right now, and I'm not sure what to chalk it up to. I'm just not myself. For example, I had lunch with a very good friend recently, who I don't get to see very often but who is one of my ten faithful readers.
She seemed hopeful that I hadn't done anything ridiculous in quite a while, primarily because I hadn't updated my blog. I wish I could say my lack of posting is a sign of unquestionably good behaviour on my part, but that wouldn't be true. Not writing is part of my weird phase.
Describing how I literally fell out of my stupidly high heels while exiting a night club at closing time where 200+ people were milling about and can now testify as to whether I bounced at all after hitting the payment could have made for a good story for my blog.
Even though I hadn't been drinking enough to fall over, stepping off the curb onto uneven pavement was all I needed to gain an entirely new appreciation for how fast gravity can work.
As I lay sprawled and suddenly barefoot in the street, I had time to think to myself that 34 years old is entirely too old to be laying in the street in front of a night club at closing time, and yet here we are.
The gathered crowd was kind enough to find my shoes for me, seeing as my shoes had got even better air time than I did. I'm grateful for these drunken good Samaritans. At least being able to walk away wearing my shoes again afforded some kind of dignity to the situation.
Then there was the twenty year old virgin I picked up while out dancing last weekend. Oh calm yourselves - he's still a virgin as far as I know.
I didn't start talking to him because I had any idea that doing so could violate both gay math and whatever passes for Madonna's moral code, so I was as shocked as anybody.
There was just something about him that was so shy and sweet, he appeared a completely different species than the guys that would normally attract me. For this reason we ended up talking and dancing, and then we went for coffee after the club where we talked for another two hours.
It was somewhere in this conversation he let slip that despite being twenty and in the military, he's still a virgin. Do you have any idea how hard it is to have scalding hot Tim Horton's tea go down the wrong pipe all of a sudden, and then try to recover gracefully while reacting like everything is completely normal? Do you??
It's really hard.
You'd think being ever so slightly older, wiser and more experienced than this guy would have given me an edge, but I was still SO crazy nervous about calling him afterward.
Telling myself he was so young I could have given birth to him (providing I was a raging whore in middle school) just made it exponentially worse.
Cougars are supposed to be confident, but I must be more of a hybrid jungle cat - about as dangerous as a Build-a-Bear grizzly.
This could have made a good story for the blog, although a bit anti-climactic. After breathing into a paper bag for a while I finally phoned him two days later, and we had a pretty good conversation - mostly about how he was leaving the next day for three weeks at sea.
I suppose I'll be happy for our Canadian Navy's rigorous training schedule should I ever need rescue from Somali pirates, but right then it really pissed me off. He said he'll call me when he's back on dry land, but I'm not holding my breath it'll cross his mind again. Kids have such short attention spans these days.
Overall, it's not as though there's nothing in my life that wouldn't make my readers feel so much better about their own. I'm still ridiculous. I could be writing. I probably should be writing. Instead, I'm going through a weird phase.
Although we can safely rule out mood altering conditions such as pregnancy or vegetarianism, I'll be sure to let you know if I figure out what the hell it is and what it all means.
Until then, I'll try to stay in my shoes and share more stories. Good advice for anybody.
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