in a fickle pickle

in many (most?) ways, my brain doesn't seem to function like a woman's. in regards to matters of lust and love anyway. when looking for sex, i was always more mercenary than missionary. i'd spot him, circle him and get him. it wasn't often i'd need or want to see him again, and they frequently got a quick boot out the door after services had been rendered. dismissal combined with my refusal to pass out my number or make even the vaguest of future plans weren't balms to ego, but hey, that wasn't my responsibility now was it? so many of them got befuddled having long spent their mornings foisting off girls for whom they'd simply had a hard-on. more challenging was the guy who really didn't get laid all that much, so thought i "liked" him. eesh.

lust could nearly always trump the "need" to like. then again, i'm sufficiently intuitive to know a total asshole after a few verbal volleys. if the energy and reception were good, i assuredly was not picturing him painting my picket fences 5 years hence. mr. right now served a valuable immediate function, yet also one unknowable and intangible to him, because he allowed me to remain unhurt and keep the privacy i so fiercely need. and you know what? men are fun. the flirting, the sexual tension, the spark in his eyes when you both know you've got a live one? it's juicy and delicious.

parsing men and sex with my friends, i've long known i'm different. even in college, while they were once again waiting for last week's rugger or frat boy to call, i was already peeking around the corner. one-night stands never made me feel confused or guilty. i was using them, so placed no further expectations. quite simple.right now, my formerly predictable brain is doing a funny thing. a chick thing i think!

as mentioned yesterday, i've chosen two men as starters. both are attractive, wildly intelligent, witty and determinedly pursuant. lots of notes and texts and calls. remembering details and offering endearments. so what's wrong with me? one makes me grin every time his name pops up on some electronic i.d. while he was in japan, i crawled out of bed at all hours to communicate across 10 time zones. he's gotten me gifts from the london and tokyo trips that have delayed our meeting. i've gotten him a little token -- something that speaks much of my mind. dinner tomorrow cannot come soon enough. the other fellow? i feel like he's pestering me! when he calls i answer reluctantly and so not to seem rude. i postponed our today date, feigning exhaustion. truthfully? i'm choosing pristine presentation for the editor tomorrow.

since neither of them have pressed the flesh, shouldn't i have them both on equal footing? how does this work? it's not my usual backward dread of someone actually liking me. clearly both seem to, yet i'm firmly focused on the one. essentially, they've had equal opportunity to impress, yet i worry i'm judging through shallow criteria. however, in my real face-to-face daily life, i do know instantly when people are worth my time. my career has offered a sufficiently protracted and painful lab study of human behavior, so i feel no conflict about snap judgements.

for now we'll call him the long shot, since the editor has taken such an early and impressive lead. in one of our 1st conversations, he quickly dove into a lengthy pedantic lecture on organic farming. the rapid descent and failure to come up for air were truly off-putting. generously, i chalked it up to nerves. it happened again in another chat. i cut through the wind, explaining my experience with some men of a certain level of intelligence. they (i judiciously avoided using "arrogantly" here) assume they're smarter than most, so feel an overtly oppressive need to explain their ideas. being as sharp as i am, i find this immediately tiring, and moreso offensive. he was, lol, taken quite far aback. he admitted it was a weakness of his, (ok, impressive, that) and he was astounded i recognized it so easily.

eureka!!

ok, phew, i'm getting this i think. if we'd met the old-fashioned way, long shot wouldn't get a 2nd shot. i'd fuck him and forget him. i'd silence the windbagging, get him in bed and be done with it. yet he insists on courting me, so it feels already like it's gone on too long. looks like i have made up my mind about him after all!! BINGO! should i have sex with him anyway? when we meet and i'm racing in conversational circles, will he be able to play and ride the cyclone with me? i never was one to string men along, so feel a small pang of heartlessness if i drop this guy without even a cup of coffee. when i began this thing, i determined i would not be the notorious disappearing internet girl. i just don't know if i still want to play by my old rules, or am i writing a new playbook?

oh, i like living again. :)