Saturday Night and I'm OK.

I spent the day working, which I love. Lots of people out there buying wine and cheese for parties.

But it feels as though every damn person on the planet, including my husband, is at a Christmas party tonight.

But hey! Guess what! This is another growth opportunity to acclimate myself to a new life, where I'm not always out and having fun and even, gasp, feeling alone (but not lonely, not yet).

Also, the hit counter jumped past 100,000 in the last day or so. To celebrate, here is a spontaneous photo.
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OK I just posted the above five minutes ago and I need to come back and edit it. Really, this whole Bravery thing feels worn thin, er, worn bald like a bad radial tire. I was at work helping what I thought was an adorable gay couple with their purchases. We talked about the stuff in the store and what would be good for the party, and I distinctly thought, 'wait, are they flirting with me?' Can they do that? Well, yes, actually. I'm not wearing a wedding ring anymore.

And this completely unnerves me, as first mentioned in a post about a month ago about my male friends touching me and how it feels suddenly strange. Friendly? Sexual?

I was out with some of these friends a few weeks back, and on our way home, we stopped in at an ordinary bar. My friend left me at the bar for about ten minutes, and old memories came flooding back. Oh right: Guys don't hit on me. I'd like to think it's because of my intimidating beauty, but closer to the truth would be the way I carry myself: Don't approach me. Time and again I've been told that I have a stand-offish manner with strangers and project a kind of cool judgement. It's not untrue; I usually do size people up pretty quick, and most of them are wearing the wrong shoes.

I'm not a grinning bimbo at the bar. I don't want to meet everyone there, but should we begin to talk, I can hold a good conversation with even a four foot pile of drywall.

The hypocritical piece of all of it is that although I often dread male attention, when I don't get it I miss it. I want to be wanted but only so far. I don't want to have to reject or make choices or take risks. I want the flirty fun and the admiration, but no obligation.

But then again, who wants never to be touched or wanted or desired? I'd like the hot and sweaty stuff too, just not the requirements of negotiating toward or away from it. I'd like to jump into someone's bed with whom I automatically feel intimate and safe, do all the bendy stretchy spanky bits, then jump back out, toodle-oo! An impossibility.

Oh right. Plus I'm celibate for the near future. OK. Done. There's my answer.