Flirting With The Past (Pt. I)

Because I’ve been insanely busy, and a bit lazy, this one’s gonna be a two-parter. So, if you’re also too busy, pick your poison: boys or politics? The former will be first up to bat.

After randomly picking up the book “Hard” by Wayne Hoffman (required reading for ENG 326: Lesbian and Gay Literature during my last semester at OU) out of my personal library, I fond the napkin pictured above servicing as a bookmark amongst the novel’s tattered pages.

The napkin was my makeshift “little black book” during my time in St. Petersburg, Florida for the Poynter Institutes’ Summer Fellowship for Young Journalists. As I looked through the names and numbers represented I realized there were a few missing, which further led me to realize that just a year ago I was, to put it lightly, a huge whore.

The napkin full of names and (lack thereof) represents only six weeks of my love life. And of the names listed I can remember the face of only one. Louis. He was the 30-year-old ebony Adonis that I swooned over for the majority of my St. Petersburg getaway. (There are also vague memories of a 35-year-old, Puerto Rican, restaurant owner named Blaine, who I made intimate contact with more then a couple a times during those six weeks, however, somehow his number didn’t make it onto the sacred napkin rolodex.)

The little piece of memorabilia from a time that seems like forever ago got me to thinking about the current situation of my love life. For those wondering, my “dry spell” effectively ended about a week ago (four months!). I don’t think my sex life has been as active since that summer I spent “abroad,” the summer that actually launched this blog (has it really been over a year!?). But the funny thing is some of the men that were the subjects of this blog upon the return from the slut-filled summer are making a sequel-ed appearance.

Fore instance, Jay is back in my life. For those of you unawares, Jay was the 33-year-old airplane mechanic who took to wining-and-dining me back during Christmas. His insecurities about our age difference eventually sent him running. But apparently he’s gotten over that because he’s now back for round two.

Jay and I have been dating on the regular for the past month or so. He’s been great. Very sweet, affectionate, romantic; he’s still on the wine-and-dine kick, which I’m loving of course. He produces stimulating conversation and is extremely sensitive to my needs. (Well, most of my needs. He’s become heavily resistant in the intimacy realm, which I’m still trying to figure out. You know me. I may be a shy, Ohio journalist, upon first introductions, but the words “closet freak” have been used to describe me on more then one occasion.)

So, what’s the problem, (besides the lack of sex) you ask? I don’t feel like we have anything in common. And at times it feels like we’re just going through the motions. But, we’ll come back to Jay later.

Randomly, out of blue, I get a message from Dale this past weekend. Remember Dale? The 24-year-old bohemian, college dropout, who spent his days working as a chef. I met him around the same time I met Jay and we spent one amazing night together before he went down south for the holidays and then never really heard from him again. (He did message me a few months later followed by an equally long silence.)

Anyway, he’s moved into a better apartment, is starting back to school and has even started catering some private parties while still working full time as a chef. However, it’s, of course, always in the back of my head that he’s going to disappear on me again. And the sad things is out of all the guys I’ve been with he’s the most normal and likeable. He’s extremely smart; I could talk to him for hours. He’s challenging; I know he just won’t agree with everything I say. He’s my age; which never happens (again, you know me, lol). And he’s a pretty nice guy; besides the disappearing act. He’s really the only one since Louis that I could see myself being really good friends with.

Ok, so that brings us to guy number three, which really is a non issue at this point. His name is Don and he broke my fourth month losing streak last week. I met him online, per usual. We met. We hit it off. Thus the intimate end result. Anyway, he’s a 37-year-old office worker, pretty normal dude (which, again, never happens, especially from the online crop). I guess some people would take issue with his age, but, as we’ve established, that’s a common trend with me.

Anyway, I haven’t really heard from Don, so, for all intensive purposes we’re going to deem that a one night stand. And the reason why I’m not too perturbed by this is because though he may have been “using me” for that proverbial release, I was pretty much doing the same thing. And it was horribly good. Like that third-piece-of-Cheesecake-Factory-cheesecake-that-you-know-you-shouldn’t-have-and-definitely-can’t-afford-but-you-still-go-for-it good. So it served its purpose. I scratched that itch and now I’m ready to move on.

So you’re wondering, what’s the problem? Sounds like your love (and sex) life are pretty smashing.

Well, according to reliable sources (a.k.a. my nosey ass friends, lol) I cheated on Jay. But I beg to differ. We haven’t officially made things exclusive. A few make out sessions and some dinner dates doesn’t exactly mean you’re engaged. Also, I’m sure you’re getting a escapist vibe about Jay because of I’ve been following most of my praises of him with drawbacks. And maybe you are. I could be sabotaging it like I always do, when something good finally comes along. But, like I said, we have nothing in common. And what if that was the real problem the first time around? What if we’re simply headed towards an inevitable demise?

And with Dale, it’s the age old story of great possibility meets implausibility.

Why is my love life a matter of past meets present, going round and round? And why do I always resort to the proverbial “ditzy, dumb blonde/love-sick school girl” mentality where all this is concerned. I’m smarter then all of this. You’d think I’d have earned my lesson by now. My future seems like the napkin, an unattainable past filled with false hope and inevitable misery.

Comment at your leisure.

~D.A. Steward

Next up….my take on the pending political race. The pretty much “I’m pissed at America and I’m telling you about it” blog post that’s been hanging over my head since McCain picked that ridiculous caricature as his running mate. Tune in. It’ll be great fun.