the dot spot

plums.

new boy wants exclusivity. it is worrying somewhat. i’ve been single for so long i’m not entirely sure how NOT to be anymore. agreeing to date exclusively feels like a commitment of magnificent proportions.

he might as well have asked for my hand in marraige. and children. and a house in the country with a dog and 2 children and a bond and life insurance and nights infront of the tv with a libido that’s been shot to shit by too much carte blanche and sundays with the folks and early bedtimes and sex only in the bed…

*gulp*

i was expressing this worry while making tea for blood cookies this morning. jade was like, dude, he just asked you to be his girlfriend. you could break up with him in a week. it’s not your soul.

true.

wise words.

but what if it turns out that i don’t want to break up with him in a week? and then we become a ‘we’ when we’re invited out. and the then i misplace my sense of self somewhere between his life and my life and then there’s marraige. and children. and a house in the country with a dog and 2 children and a bond and life insurance and nights infront of the tv with a libido that’s been shot to shit by too much carte blanche and sundays with the folks and early bedtimes and sex only in the bed…

commitment-phobe? me?

so why am i so freaked out by it? i do like him. a lot. so much so that might have to find a more suitable reference than ‘new boy’ soon.

met labushka for drinks on wednesday at the meat market on derry (which really should become something like, ‘place where broken drunk divorced men hang out’) and came to the conclusion that there’s always one big problem with exclusivity: whether you mean to or not, when you start contemplating the idea, there’s always that one question floating around in the back of your head – will that penis be it for the rest of my life and will it be enough?

hence the new column: size does matter. whoohoo, can’t wait.