Dating & The Ether

Hehe. I’m sorry. I just amused myself. I put in the subject randomly, and then saw an image in my head of someone breathing in ether to bring himself to his senses rather than date. That’s somewhat revealing, I think.
What has me thinking about the idea of dating (well, enough to post on it, anyway) is the number of flirts and messages I’ve been getting.
First, I was dumb enough to let a friend coax me into joining an online dating service. It makes perfect sense to do something like that when you’re not looking to date, doesn’t it?
Second, I create a MySpace page, without really realizing that a lot of people see MySpace as something of a dating service.
Anyway, it’s been interesting to see the kind of women who are attracted to me. Informative, as well, in regard to the disparity between my tastes and the possibilities. Not that I’m looking for some busty blonde bimbo or anything. Just that my face apparently suits mainstream America better than I’m comfortable with. Maybe I should shoot a nail through my nose or something. Or shave my head so that people can see my ‘666’ shaped birthmark (joking).
I did thin out the flirts a bit by changing my religion from ‘Not Religious’ to ‘Wicca’. Am I Wiccan? Well, yes and no. As I’ve said recently, I’m about 80% Wiccan. That’s a much higher percentage than I can claim with any other religion, but I still stumble over that last 20% of bullshit. Let’s just say I’m Wicastan. That makes sense to me. If you’re a devout Christian, it probably doesn’t make sense to flirt with someone who lists Wicca as their religion.
Still, there are quite a few women who don’t read that part and want to flirt and come on to ol’ Wic. I dunno if they want to convert me or what. Women always think they can mold and shape a man into what they want him to be (my ex found out that isn’t always true). I guess it could be interesting to see if they could save me or if I could corrupt them. Care for an apple, my dear?
There may also be a few that hope to earn their ‘Wic Approved’ status. Be forewarned. I don’t dispense those to just anybody for anything. Although if there’s something I like in the grocery store I might slap a sticker on it.
Okay, as usual I’m getting off-track here.
Sorry. I just heard a phrase that caught my attention. “Virgin chocolate.” Um. Is that chocolate you seduce virgins with? Where do I find this chocolate?
Oh, right. I was getting off-track.
Dating. Right.
I’m not very interested in dating right now. I’m interested in talking to anyone who wants to chat, and I honestly don’t have a problem with the idea of going out and having dinner with someone, or to the movies, or to a good Pagan bonfire, but I’m not actively looking for a soulmate or :: insert your favorite cliche’ here ::
I figured I’d just put that out there.
Right now I’m fighting for my life, trying to keep my head above water. I feel a bit like that guy in that video that stood on the beach and watched the tsunami coming toward him. Everyone was like “Why doesn’t he run?” I knew why. He knew he was screwed, and he looked death in the eye as it came for him. I always admired that. If a demon jumps out at you from some dark alley, poke it in the belly. It may still shred you to pieces, but I promise it will remember you.
Oh, right. Dating.
Someday. Maybe. Okay, most likely. Just not right now.
And ladies, relax. This doesn’t mean that I’m looking for random sex with no obligations (although I might be willing to take applications in that regard). I guess in the end that’s the main reason I’m writing here. I have quite a few female friends, and I just want them to know and understand that I am not cruising. I think some of them worry that now that I’m single I’ll be actively recruiting for Mara’s replacement. That’s not so. If anything, I’m as skittish as a newborn colt.
As for the flirts, hey, I don’t mind that at all. I used to be quite a flirt before I found myself flopping around on a shore gasping for oxygen. But if you’re looking for your one true love, you’re going to be disappointed here. We can flirt, though. Don’t worry that I’ll start following you around like a puppy dog wanting another scritch.
All I’m looking for is a cup of tea and a nice, cool spot in the yard, hopefully under the shade of a tree, where I can curl up into a ball, pull a few leaves over top of me, and go back to just being me. I used to like me.
Let me come to terms with myself first. Later on we can go from there.

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