I told Scott "I want to live in your beard."

So I know how these are supposed to be all about my single life, livin it up, partyin, et cetera, but all I seem to do is reaffirm my intentions to be single and happy about it.

Because for the most part, I'm not happy about it.

I believe I have a gift for nurturing, and a nurturer with no one to nurture is like a rapist with no one to rape, or a bus driver with no bus. I have no direction, no motivation, and certainly no warm bodies beside me in bed.

Though this is a recent subtraction. These absent bodies heretofore occupied my bed pretty steadily. There was sweet adorable charming Chuck, a regular at Turp's and the bookstore, law student, sweetheart, hilarious guy who reminds me a lot of Patrick Keefer, though nowhere near as neurotic. He's stayed over a few times, and I've stayed over his place (feather top mattress = cloud dreams) but the connection is more friendly than romantic.

So then I started seeing Fred, the cute scientist I met at my friend Jon's show in Arbutus. We had an instant vibe for each other, and never before have I scanned a room, thought "I want him," and then had him come up and start chatting with me. I have always been the predator, not the prey.  So I liked that Fred took the initiative and when I said "well, my friends and I aren't sticking around after this set," he said "well then I'll stay and talk with you a little longer."

I dig it.

And also, did I mention he's a SCIENTIST? He conducts research and collects data samples for the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center, and lives on SERC property, and we had a pretty romantic date walking around his fucking back yard. He's not perfect, and he's a terrible dancer, but it was pretty fun bringing him to Turp's to celebrate Taylor's birthday.

The problem is I can totally see myself dating Fred, and sticking around with him for months, and then thinking I would marry him, and giving up job opportunities to stay close to him, and all that retarded bullshit I do when I'm in relationships. WHY do I sacrifice my goals and needs to make things easier on the guys I date? True, I'm a pretty high-maintenance girlfriend- I need attention, and quality time, and the illusion that we are growing together. I invest myself in the illusion of permanence when I am with someone. But what the fuck do I care about staying in Carroll County when the whole wide world of publishing is outside of it, Josh? What the fuck do I care about your self-destructing busy schedule when I could be carousing and writing with my best friends instead of reading design blogs in your bed, Stephan? And WHO CARES about Jersey, Chuck?

So sorry, sweet Chuck. Sorry, cute Fred. Sorry, thoughtful guy with the rock-climbing knee injury who was reading Jack Kerouac in booth 234 yesterday. This girl is seriously off the market. This girl is learning how to be her own man. And I'm gonna nurture the hell outta myself.





Also, Scott and I will have cute babies.