*Wow*
And WoW.
Don't do it Rose, don't drop 40 bucks on something that you'll obsess over for a month and then drop like an ex-boyfriend. You'll find reasons to stay up past your bedtime and get no sleep for work.
No, I'll be a good little causal player! I promise! And...and...I'll get to play pretty boys! I can dress them up and give them fancy hairdos and make them dance and...
*sigh* Maybe.
Aaanyway,
By a random twist of fate I found myself invited along as a well-dressed, charming man's (that is a Smiths reference, as we are both huge fans) "date" for Valentine's dinner at The Melting Pot.
Not only did I get to have incredibly stimulating conversations about Sofia Coppola, Pulp, feminism, enjoying every single moment of life both heart wrenching and dizzyingly happy, and Nietzsche, but he paid for everything, including my martini at the heavenly bar playing The Cure that we met up at before dinner. We had Shiraz, palm of heart salad, and the usual fancy fare that only The Melting Pot can provide.
Oh. My. God.
Normally my feminist sensibilities compel me to go either Dutch or to pay for the other person myself (don't ask me why paying for them is acceptable), but every now and then I enjoy being a girl. So long as the situation seems to call for it. Which means that said person paying for my entertainment has the means and the honest willingness to do so with no tinge of obligation towards my gender. If I'm out and about with someone who has any sort of desire to court me, I will run away very far and fast if they so much as attempt to pay for my coffee.
And I had a reason to dress up in fancy clothes and wear fancy makeup.
Who could ask for more?
Well, I had a much lovelier time because I had told my partner in crime about my various neuroses tied to this greeting card holiday, and he called me first thing in the morning to wish me a happy valentine's day. I'm a simple girl at heart, and that more than any other show of affection was really all I needed.
The most amusing part of all of this is that I told him about my little "date" and how I had made sure that the aforementioned charming man was alright with taking out a girl who didn't consider herself single. (Which, in my mind, is a slightly different sentiment than actually proclaiming official attachment to a significant other.) And this phrasing opened a can of worms previously left untouched.
I'm sure I've been confusing many people on the subject as the way I speak to some gives the impression of official attachment and the way I speak to others is ambiguous enough to give the impression of non-attachment. And what it's really boiled down to on my side of the fence is this: I had the realization that my dating anyone else would always come with a tinge of regret due to the feeling of giving something up or settling, which is not the most ideal of circumstances to become involved with anyone. Especially since any time I am in a relationship I tend to think twice about it when said partner in crime comes around.
And suddenly the world and all the things I'd previously done fell away. Clarity came to me, and I knew that any attempts to become involved with anyone other than the person I wanted would be foolhardy and ultimately hollow. So, regardless of my percieved status of "single", I made a conscious choice to be unavailable to anyone except the person I wanted. Regardless of whether or not he wanted anything more than friendship from me. And I finally got the chance to explain this to him as he has seemed to find it unfathomable that I would actually feel this way without any promting from him.
I am a very lucky girl indeed.
*sigh* My annual plundering of the chocolate aisle will have to wait. My headache came back on the other side of my neck/head and I am exhausted from too many late nights and the consumption of alcohol. I think I shall take a soak in the bath to recover as my parents sent me very thoughtful valentines including a stockpile of Lush bath bombs.
Don't do it Rose, don't drop 40 bucks on something that you'll obsess over for a month and then drop like an ex-boyfriend. You'll find reasons to stay up past your bedtime and get no sleep for work.
No, I'll be a good little causal player! I promise! And...and...I'll get to play pretty boys! I can dress them up and give them fancy hairdos and make them dance and...
*sigh* Maybe.
Aaanyway,
By a random twist of fate I found myself invited along as a well-dressed, charming man's (that is a Smiths reference, as we are both huge fans) "date" for Valentine's dinner at The Melting Pot.
Not only did I get to have incredibly stimulating conversations about Sofia Coppola, Pulp, feminism, enjoying every single moment of life both heart wrenching and dizzyingly happy, and Nietzsche, but he paid for everything, including my martini at the heavenly bar playing The Cure that we met up at before dinner. We had Shiraz, palm of heart salad, and the usual fancy fare that only The Melting Pot can provide.
Oh. My. God.
Normally my feminist sensibilities compel me to go either Dutch or to pay for the other person myself (don't ask me why paying for them is acceptable), but every now and then I enjoy being a girl. So long as the situation seems to call for it. Which means that said person paying for my entertainment has the means and the honest willingness to do so with no tinge of obligation towards my gender. If I'm out and about with someone who has any sort of desire to court me, I will run away very far and fast if they so much as attempt to pay for my coffee.
And I had a reason to dress up in fancy clothes and wear fancy makeup.
Who could ask for more?
Well, I had a much lovelier time because I had told my partner in crime about my various neuroses tied to this greeting card holiday, and he called me first thing in the morning to wish me a happy valentine's day. I'm a simple girl at heart, and that more than any other show of affection was really all I needed.
The most amusing part of all of this is that I told him about my little "date" and how I had made sure that the aforementioned charming man was alright with taking out a girl who didn't consider herself single. (Which, in my mind, is a slightly different sentiment than actually proclaiming official attachment to a significant other.) And this phrasing opened a can of worms previously left untouched.
I'm sure I've been confusing many people on the subject as the way I speak to some gives the impression of official attachment and the way I speak to others is ambiguous enough to give the impression of non-attachment. And what it's really boiled down to on my side of the fence is this: I had the realization that my dating anyone else would always come with a tinge of regret due to the feeling of giving something up or settling, which is not the most ideal of circumstances to become involved with anyone. Especially since any time I am in a relationship I tend to think twice about it when said partner in crime comes around.
And suddenly the world and all the things I'd previously done fell away. Clarity came to me, and I knew that any attempts to become involved with anyone other than the person I wanted would be foolhardy and ultimately hollow. So, regardless of my percieved status of "single", I made a conscious choice to be unavailable to anyone except the person I wanted. Regardless of whether or not he wanted anything more than friendship from me. And I finally got the chance to explain this to him as he has seemed to find it unfathomable that I would actually feel this way without any promting from him.
I am a very lucky girl indeed.
*sigh* My annual plundering of the chocolate aisle will have to wait. My headache came back on the other side of my neck/head and I am exhausted from too many late nights and the consumption of alcohol. I think I shall take a soak in the bath to recover as my parents sent me very thoughtful valentines including a stockpile of Lush bath bombs.