Little light bulb popped off in my head in discussing body image tonight with a fellow.  I like you if I think you like the way I look.  I don’t take into consideration, if I like you in general.

Are we a good fit, do we like similar things, do we have compatible schedules, do we live in the same city, are you healthy and taking care of yourself, are you in a good place with your finances (no, you don’t have to be wealthy or well off, I think there’s some confusion when I say financially successful–I mean are you capable of paying your rent and utilities and food without having to borrow money from your parents to tide you through til your next check or pay period.  Or are you taking strides to get healthy with your money?  Like pursuing a new career or education.)

No, I like you if you think I’m pretty.

Ok, maybe it’s not quite so basic as that.  But I have noticed that I only notice men who make it really apparent that they find me sexy or hot or fuckable.

I want to be likable.  I want to be noticed for my generosity of spirit and my ability to love.  Not just whether I pulled together a cute outfit from the closet this morning or have on a pair of sexy tights.  Although, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a cute outfit and sexy tights, I’m all down for it.

But we have to have more than just that initial attraction.  For instance, I like to read books and write.  Perhaps you do too.  Or you have a creative outlet, it does not necessarily have to be books and writing.  I would like to carry on a conversation that does not revolve around an episode of Two and a Half Men.  Not that I could pull that off anyhow, I’ve never seen the show.

Just random thoughts that have been a swirl in my head tonight.  The Calling In the One book is about 3/4s done.  I have not met with Sarah again to discuss where we are at with the various exercises, but I have been religiously doing the reading and the practises.

Yesterday, for example, I sat in one place for fifteen minutes and just was.  I did not feel lonely or alone.  I registered what I was feeling.  Some guilt and shame around Jeremiah, then forgiveness for myself and gratitude that I did not let it go further.  Yes, it is really amazing to have some one find you attractive and my god is it a balm to the ego to hear it, but I realized that we did not have a whole lot else going for us, no mutual friends or hobbies, aside from alcoholic dads (can that be considered a hobby?).  A relationship for me must be built upon more than just physical attraction.  I also noticed that I felt held, taken care of, and on the right path.  It was nice to acknowledge these feelings instead of checking out with one of my employers Cosmo’s.

I am too old for any thing else.  Although I was pegged as a “young person” tonight and was very flattered to actually say I did not fit the criteria for what that person was looking for, nice as it was to be though of as under 30, I am very proud of my 38 years.  I have done quite a bit with them.

Oh, I also recently picked up a few more things for the house.  I still have to get a nightstand for the other side of the bed.  I will accomplish that this weekend.

And I received a little box of joy today in the mail, in a plain brown box.  No, it was not from Good Vibrations.

It was from AT&T.  I got a modem and they will be here Saturday (between, I love this, 8am. and 8pm, to install it) to hook me up with internet.  I will be officially paying my own way come Saturday.  No more coasting off of Gayle’s Guest Network or Linkys or Belkin54g.  I will stop having my internet dropped and I will have a faster connection.  I actually spend a lot of time waiting for pages to load and I am so over it.  I am quite happy to be stepping up my adult life here.

And that means that I will be doing my blogging from my desk in the other room rather than here on the love seat in my bedroom. I am, (this is scary!) making my room into a boudoir.  Only sleeping and sex and intimacy will be going on in this room.  No more working on my computer from the bedroom.  The love seat will go back to being a love seat, meant to be reclined on with my one.

I also noticed things trying to creep back into the spaces I have created and I moved stuff back out redefining space that is meant for him.  It’s weird, I will admit it, I can almost feel him being here.  Nerve racking and wonderful all at the same time.

I really don’t have any idea who it is and I don’t care (ok, a little, I still care a little), but I know it will be different.  No more Jeremiah’s or Grants or Mister Sexy’s.  No more not available men, T. from Burning Man  who I ran into on the street last Friday and has not called, I’m not holding space in my brain for you, because the FaceBook invite to an event you are hosting is not a date.

That’s what my brain tells me, for real, my brain is not my friend.  Yeah, it’s a date, asshole brain, that he invited 1100 other people too.  I’m sure he’ll have lots of time to hang with you!

No more fantasy relationships.  I am ready for reality.

Which just means being present for the awesome woman I am.

I am awesome, you know, and damn sexy, and I will be wearing some hot ass tights tomorrow.  Just so you know.

It’s Friday after all.

And you can comment on those tights and you can ask those tights out on a date, just be prepared to carry on a conversation with the rest of the woman there.


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