Things I would rather be doing instead of dating; plucking my eyebrows, having a PAP, washing my hair, driving bamboo sticks under both my finger and toe nails, eating burnt toast, oh yes…and my personal favorite…cleaning up after all three of my children after a rigorous bout of the flu.
Dating never has been, and probably never will be on my top 10 favorite activities list. There is something about the “butt sniffing” stage of any relationship that leaves me less than satisfied. The same pick-up and drop-off lines over and over, ad nauseam, and all I want to do is text one of my established friends whom I can rely on to make laugh or at least keep my brain focused. Dating for me is like watching ‘Ground Hog Day’ back to back.
It has been almost a year since I left my last relationship. I no longer have enough appendages left to mark the amount of times I have heard, “You just need to get out there and start dating.” or, ” You better get good at dating…” Really?! Why? A recent conversation with a friend of mine revealed that I dated maybe 3 or 4 people in high school. Out of those 3 or 4 I married 1 of them. Still, I don’t think it was the quantity that was the problem… it was the quality.
If you take a novice foodie, so novice they don’t even qualify to have the word foodie attached, and take them to an upscale dessert tasting hoping for some amazing review, prepare to be disappointed. In the end…if they can’t appreciate the refined talent of the pastry chef and the quality of ingredients…they won’t know the difference between that and a pink coconut covered snowball from 7-11. That, my friends, would be my problem. I have been swooping up stale ass, dried up, synthetic snowballs from the nearest liquor store and consuming them like they were the finest, freshest, most decadent versions of themselves.
It is rumored that the panacea to the insipid snowball would be the equally insipid activity of dating. Some may enjoy the thrill and adrenaline rush of meeting a slew of new romantic prospects in anticipation of a chemical high. I find this to be one of the more pedestrian activities of courting. Had I not been catechized with this new found illuminating knowledge of how to see through behaviors and dialogues that could lead to less than satisfying, if not abusive, relationships, I may well have been sucked into this social tradition that I have such disdain for.
So I say dash it, screw it, f^@k it. It’s not for me so I refuse to participate. I don’t want to, so I am not going to. I have decided that I am just going to do me. I have children who are like puppies straining at their leash to explore life with their mother…and I am equally excited. I have humanitarian projects, art school, and a career to get started. If in all that mess I can’t seem to naturally come across someone to work or “play” with long enough to decide I would like to spend extra-curricular time with them…then I have bigger problems than dating.