he never called.
i know. i know. i am sorry to disappoint you as much as it was a disappointment to me but remember that little statement i revealed yesterday about not being honest with myself, well that plays a more important role than you anticipated.
the story i wove about meeting the musician that night was 100% fact, however, i did leave a few finer points out.
as soon as i had gotten home that night i had felt a remarkable sense of non-excitement over my brush with male attention.
why? why? why?
well... the exact tale i spun for you was exactly how i played it out in my mind and to my sister and closest friends. i met a musician! he wore glasses! he kissed me! what could be better? nothing with those facts.
but if i were honest with myself... and everyone else, i would have told you this:
that he didn't seem to have a stitch of humor in his lovely physique. okay... fine, so not everyone's funny.
that he made fun of a lot of people in our vicinity. people dancing(whom i thought were not only good but brave to dance on their own) older people who were out alone and blondes. and okay if you know me, you may know that i am not exactly keen on skinny, pretty blondes. they are my arch nemesis! why you ask? because they are everything i am not and they seem to have it so easy. it makes me batty.
but when mr. hip musician pointed out a s.p.b. and mocked her and said she looked stupid, i should've done a victory dance. two points for the curly haired plump brunette! but i didn't.
seems that if it's me and a man against the blondes or me and the blondes against a man, i am going to go with womankind. we girls have got to stick together!
in fact i was so repulsed by his blatant mockery of almost everyone around us that i didn't even want to get to know him better. i knew enough.
so why was i excited when he still asked me out? and disapointed when the jerk didn't call. because it still felt like a rejection. even if i knew myself well enough to know that he would've never been right for me at all.
oh yeah... and uh he may have been divorced and had a 15-year-old daughter. did i mention he was 37?
see what i mean?
i am not very honest with myself! and i have now realized why. because that would be admitting things that are unpleasant or unsavory and why confront that nonsense? well it's high time i do.
because i know myself. i know that divorcees with children as old as my teen sisters are major dealbreakers for me. i know that people who aren't very nice aren't for me. and i also know that without a doubt i still need the funny. i don't actually give two figs if you play for the bloody black eyed peas, if you can't see the humor in everyday life, and no not in making fun of blondes, then you just aren't my kind of fella.
so yes, i kissed another toad on my search for mr. right, but that's okay with me. like i said. this is only just the beginning.