Thursday, July 17, 2003
( 9:19 AM ) Rebecca
OK, I agree it’s really not fair.
What’s with me and all these gorgeous males? It might be exaggeration to say they’re swarming. Then again, it might not.
Maybe it’s some kind of karmic retribution for the torture I endured last summer.
Someone’s way of saying, “Congratulations, Breakup Babe, you survived your new job and your broken heart despite [ARCHIVE SCRUB OCCURRED HERE - OUCH!] Not only did you survive, you thrived, and for that I’m sending to you a gift-wrapped bevy of beautiful hommes with whom to enjoy yourself. Bon appetit!”
As if Indie Rock Dad (IRD) and South African Boy (SAB) weren’t enough, just the other night, my mysterious benefactor handed me Adorable Journalist Boy (AJB), a tall, dark-haired drink of water, who’s sweet and hip and -- it goes without saying -- immensely adorable.
Oy. I mean – yay!
The thing is, you all know about my impending train wreck with IRD. I am smitten. With his British accent, his knife-edged cheekbones, his drop-dead smile. And it’s bound to come to no good, because love never does.
And so I am engaged in DefensiveDating ™. To hedge my bets, as they say.
Not that I am officially dating SAB at this point in time. No, we are merely joined at the hip, entertaining each other at work (where he is like bottled sunshine in my windowless office), engaging in datelike activities outside work, but without any of the stuff that might make it messy, or, um, really fun.
It’s quite perfect, really (except I wish, wish WISH he would take his shirt off again). Because we all know what would happen to our workplace lovefest should we get involved and (inevitably) break up. Meanwhile, I get to be the focus of his adoring attentions, which prevents me from investing too much in IRD.
And AJB. Mmm. Am still deciding what to do about that one. Not much time in my schedule, naturally, so I think he can be my Tuesday night date.
I'll also come clean about my other men just so he doesn't fall madly in love with me (until I want him too, that is). He'll be fine with being part of my DefensiveDating ™ coterie; I mean, men want what they can't get, right? And if things go well with IRD, well maybe I'll pass AJB off to a deserving galpal. Until then, he's MINE!
As you might guess, I'm a bit lacking in sleep these days. A concerned reader recently wrote that I should "swear off men and drugs and alcohol until [I] finish [my] book." Now that is sound advice if I've ever heard any!
But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?
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