My Id is an Idiot

     

I am a surreal dater.  A Serial dater, not cereal dater - I don't have dates every morning as part of my breakfast.

I just find myself alone on multiple occasions when really I should be 'going-out' with someone as everybody else seems to be.

And I technically AM going out with someone, a nice boy who told me he liked me.  And I suspended disbelief for long enough to convey that some meaning.  Perhaps he does.  However, the sticking point for myself is that, BECAUSE I always like 'interesting people', they tend to have unusual habits when it comes to dating.

I shall qualify a few examples from my past dating history to illucidate -

1. Poet Boy
A nice boy.  Though age is a problem, as he is a year YOUNGER than I am, therein I constantly throw-up (not literally more il-literally) scenarios whereby his age must be a problem.  However, Poet boy does bust out a very good type of writing.  So much so that he can do poetry as a job, if that was a term.  He is so successful at it that he is going to even be on telly pronouncing his denouncements so he must have more than an ounce of sense beneath his creativity.

Poet boy is so busy, that he can't see me until some very far-off date of the month.  Therein, I lose interest as the alternative is to sit on my clasped hands slowly waiting for him to become available.

Clearly, Poet boy is NOT available.  To no avail he is in-fact.  As Poet boy loves poems more than girls in rapture of his talents.

2. Artist Man
A regular staple to my romantic life, Artist man texts me often and I text him in a game of tortured-artistic tennis.  Artist man has Attention Deficit Disorder so also works as a Drum n Bass DJ.  Therein whilst he simultaneously paints large-scale paintings for upcoming B-movies or something else.  Artist man has been bought by Saatchi and his graffiti is also another past-time.

The difficulty with artist man is his essentially errant soul.  To be able to hold attention for a fully-grown man with the self-sufficient means made from his art to allow him to follow whichever whim or fancy suits him on a particular day, is TESTING.  Artist man seems to have had a change of heart as of late however, as he is buying up a flat and thereby will desist from camping-out in his art studio.  No, he really did have to bath in a paddling pool as the studios had no washing facilities.  You see, it is his ardant imagination that I fell for.  Where other people may have thrown their hat in and walked away from the chance to live out their adult life having to live on a mattress thrown ontop of a ladder (thereby an indoor tree house), Artist man inspired me to another way of thinking.  Artist man is also nearly twice my age.  A thing that I am not necessarily reassured by.

3. Accountant man
 I am often told by friends in the know, who know me well, that I am best seeking-out the less interesting type of fellow.  The accountants, for example.  Well I have had a run-in with someone who seeks the answers to their soul through analysis of spreadsheets however it did not go as easily according to plan as you would think from a boring person.

No, the thing that attracted me to Boring Accountant, apart from his reliability, was his actual state of flux- the torture that beset him that he had no interest in Accountancy or Numeracy at a base level.  No, he did not enjoy making and collating forecasts for upcoming finances and he was about to STOP that altogether to become a Doctor.  Ah - the Jesus complex!  This is more like it.  He had martyred himself for a neat financial packet and now was ready to do what ultimately he always wanted to do however had been too enfeebled by schooling of capitalist thought.

Accountant man was now a Man among beasts, raised higher in my esteem for his disdain for Numeracy and Financial stability.  So in effect, it was a brief affair with sensible men that I experienced.  Soon enough, Accountant man lost interest in me, as I have a very irritating habit of not reading a newspaper from beginning to end, but like to dip in and out of the bits that interest me instead.  That, along with my impartiality for shaving my legs, in effect ruined my chances with Accountant-Doctor man.



So, a third of the way through, and already I see disparities with myself and my fellow more successful girlfriends who are in relationships.  The same can be said for my boy mates who are in relationships.  Perhaps there are less of them though as this is a difficult age to qualify what you want in a partner.

I think I have just worked-out what I don't want, and need to maintain a patient level of disdain juxtaposed with hope (paradox) until somebody unfortunate enough, comes along.  Although it does seem less and less likely with the passing of time.

Although I don't think I will ever buy a cat, so at least that stereotype is off the cards.  Cats do annoy me with their cuteness.  The cool ones are fine, but essentially they are limited to being animals and you can't legally marry them, or have children with them.