Decision Time



Dating Translation

We could go see a movie:  innocuous night spent hand-holding in a darkened theater with a post movie make-out session.
You could come over and watch a movie: let’s roll around, sweaty and naked, in my bed!

I’m seeing him again on Wednesday.  He gave me these choices.  It’s been a very long time since I’ve “come over to watch a movie” – a very, very long time.  I really need to come over and watch a movie – in fact,  I need to watch a dozen or so movies.  I think that’s why I haven’t been sleeping well.  If I mess this up, I may not get a chance to come over and watch a movie again for a while, but yet I hesitate.

I agreed to go see a movie – not to come over, yet.  My body says “YES! Right now!” but my mind wants to wait.  I’m concerned that I’m postponing for unrealistic reasons, waiting for a certain someone to come around –  who never will.

p.s. when TG asked me what I did this weekend, I told him the truth – I went on a date.  Suppressing what looked like surprise, he didn’t ask questions. It probably hurt me more than it did him, but he looked like I had just punched him in the gut.


I’ve Met Someone…

Her name is Christine. 

I had a great yoga practice the other night – my latest in a recent string of great classes, all given by Christine. It’s made me realize that my lack of zeal these past months may have much to do with my last teacher, John.  Over the six years of my practice, I’ve discovered that I relate better to female teachers than male.  There is a certain quality of softness, exploration and play that a woman brings to the asana room; something male teachers seem to lack.  After my last exhilarating practice with Christine, I began thinking about how much those words (softness, exploration, play) sound like descriptors for sex. I began reminiscing about my previous teachers’ style.  John would lead us through the same poses every night  – in the same sequence.  Like stale lovemaking, we would move from position to position without any spontinaity, creativity or passion.  Imagine how quickly one would get bored if that was the case in the bedroom.  First I will kiss your lips, followed by a short neck nuzzle, 5 minutes of oral stimulation, coitus, post orgasmic cuddling then sleep.   My teacher before, also a guy, taught a super-vigorous practice that I called “balls -to-the-wall” yoga.  It was fast and furious – each class for the entire 90 minutes, not unlike what Carrie Bradshaw would call Jackrabbit sex.  Wham, wham, wham. No getting in the mood – just muscle through it.  The best part is when it’s over. 

So, I guess when it comes to yoga, I’m eschewing the boys forever in favor of the girls.

To sex or not to sex

To sex or not to sex – that’s my dilemma.  Why is there such a disparity between what my mind knows I should do and what my body wants to do?  I’ve made up my mind ten times on what I want to do next – and find myself thinking just the opposite five minutes later.  One of the first difficulties is the “in the moment/out of the moment” paradox. When I’m outside the moment, I can rationally weigh my actions and consequences.  He doesn’t know me, I don’t know him and I’m aware that this attraction is swirling pheromones and chemicals, having nothing to do with lasting connection.  I know waiting is better – allowing time to establish a true relationship and not a faux bond based on the physical.  It avoids “weirdness”, I’m less likely to be lied to – to be played, and I won’t feel the morning-after shame.  What if I don’t really LIKE him?  But…then I’m next to him, alone, and I want.  I want to touch, I want to kiss – I want. 

It’s like drinking – when you’re sober, you know when to stop, but once you’re drunk, you’ve lost your ability to say ‘when’.  What’s a girl to do?