Manscapades

A recent Skype date with my best friend had us both realizing that we are nearly 21 years old and are tired of things going downhill when it comes to manscapades. Yes. Manscapades, I coined that term. It is the best way to describe any woman's dating history present or past. In other words, we both realize that we are ready to be serious for once and she (the clubbing every Friday/Saturday night type of person) decided that she wanted to be done with the club scene. I don't know if this means we are growing up, or just growing tired of meeting people who aren't even going to be in our lives next week.

I have had my share of experiences, and to be frank I could probably write a book. That guy that dropped off the face of the Earth. That real estate agent who has been to my place numerous times but whose place still remains unknown. The dealer (and I don't mean of cards). The names that slip my mind. The Ex who still offers good advice. The Butcher. The Baker. The Candlestick maker. The list goes on.

The lengthy conversation stemmed from her latest break up with her on again off again boyfriend of two years. I did pull the "Nah, nah, nah, told you so." bit before offering her the comfort of the term, "you never know if you don't try." And I guess this time, they are done for good. At least I can hope. I think her manscapades have been much more dramatic than mine, although less risque to say the very least.

Our womanly instincts must be kicking in over the whole wanting something more serious for once, at least more serious than a guy you meet at the club, go home with and then after the walk, or taxi ride of shame, you never speak again. I don't think it's wrong to want something someone to make you happy. Especially if it sounds better than any of the above listed.

I've always thought/been told that I would only ever be with one person and that person I would likely marry. Numerous failed dates and attempts at relationships later (all ended because of my ambition...who would have thunk?) I am beginning to believe that all those people have mistaken me for a good girl. But I mean, are any of us really?

And so, it looks like our ovaries are taking over and craving the gentle caress of a strong man who sees us worth protecting. In this case, I'm craving more of a man worth my time who will be weird with me. In my best friend's case? I'm sure anything more than a loser in tinfoil will do.

In any case, I think we are both just looking for a means to an end of the manscapades.