It takes you on all these incredible tangents - highs and lows. Ups and downs.
I'm coming to the conclusion that certain things happen for a reason. Connections, real or imaginary, are made just to pull you out of your miserable status quo. And maybe that's the reason? For the connection? To drag you out of your stupor, make you face your own demons and conquer them so you can move on. Attention is a powerful motivator, especially when you aren't getting any.
But at some point, I've got to stop Waiting for Godot. It gets a little ridiculous. I'm relatively young, and single, and the ex has been dating for months, so I suppose it's time for me to take the plunge.
But how? My sis tells me I need to get professional photos taken and join a computer dating website. I can't tell you how much the idea of this fills me with nausea. E-harmony? Blech. My stylist told me today about a website that advertises to married couples, claiming confidentiality and promising a marital tryst ("To restore and revitalize your own marriage!") within six months or your money back. It's real. She investigated it. Sounds pretty disgusting to me.
I'm planning a trip to the Big Island of Hawaii next month - good reason to shed those holiday pounds (that I really didn't gain) and stay on the treadmill. So I look good. For myself, right? My friend Trish tells me I need to find a Hot Hawaiian Surfer Dude and have a fling. I'm not really sure how to do that. Another friend encouraged me to have a tryst with a cabana boy. While I have a vague idea of what a cabana boy is, I wanted specifics, so I googled it. Wikipedia says this,
A cabana boy is a male attendant (boy in this sense) performing 'personal services' to the guests of a hotel or a large private estate, operating from a nearby cabaña (American Spanish for cabin; compare cabin boy), notably on a beach. A pool boy performs the same duties at a swimming pool. Cabana boys are typically viewed as scantily clad attractive young men who cater to their clients' every whim.
Sounds pretty good, right? If they really exist. I've been doing more research on green sand beaches and underground volcanoes than cabana boys, but I guess if one comes along, I might be game. My own little week long Eat, Pray, Love - no wait, I hated that book - more like Drink, Play, F$#&. I'm not sure how these guys writing the books can swing three months and stay gainfully employed. I'm going to have to cram it all into one week.
Last fall after the divorce, to my own personal surprise, the old self-esteem sank to guttural levels. Not that it really ever wanders far from the gutter, but I had a glimmer of hope. Which was dashed.
The New Year brings it back. As the old saying goes, time heals all wounds. I am happy on my own, and am dying for something new, but also dreading complications that it might bring. So maybe I'll just hang out here for a while and see what happens. Here's hoping that a heavily tattooed, singularly empathic guy materializes (No I don't, Yes I do have one in mind). I could use a little company, right about now.