"NO!"

Give up flirting or take up saying "No"? What an eminent clash, brought about courtesy of my being me.

Once Upon being dumped by sleep a little after 4am, on what promises to be a mouth watering 1st day of Spring; I find myself in a pickle. Not the edible kind of pickle, but rather a sour situation (which is where the term "in a pickle originated... & yes I googled it out of boredom). Today is the day I'm meant to be having a dinner date with a man who wants to take me away for a weekend of wine tasting in the picturesque Magaliesburg. At first glance it's hard to see what the problem is. A free tasty meal one evening, followed by a weekend away; all at someone else's expense. The problem is the fact that I absolutely don't want to; I however suck at saying "No".

The irony of this predicament is that I wasn't even flirting with the prick in question. The son of a bitch watched me all evening, as I flirtatiously mingled my Saturday night away at a farewell party; then politely preyed on me as I was about to leave. His approach was something along the reasonable lines of telling me that he hadn't gotten the chance to chat to me, but from what he saw; he'd like to take me out for dinner and get to know me better. Truth be told, no man (family & friends excluded), has ever wined & dined me; so when I heard "dinner", it translated as "score!" I rationalised with myself that I didn't know him enough to dislike him, so dinner couldn't hurt; then we proceeded to exchange numbers. The 1st sign that he would be a bad idea, registered when he put his name into my phone, then typed "my new man" as his surname. I rolled my eyes at him & told him not to get ahead of himself; which lead to the 2nd warning that he'd be a down right kak idea. The jack ass fucken pulled into me, & it took way too much force than it should've, for me to shove his face out my mouth.

In light of all of the above, I have subsequently struggled to speak the word "no" to this man & many men before him. In the past my "No" has always been communicated by means of insinuation; & men always got the point. This time however, my avoidance of calls & constant inability to get back to him about dinner, doesn't seem to be getting the point across. I'm faced with having to speak the word I'm most allergic to. A word that paralyses me with guilt each time I so much as think it. "No" is rejection. Rejection happens to be my biggest fear; followed by cars; then by large numbers of black people in one space (true story).

If it hadn't been for my track record as a seasoned flirt; perhaps I'd be less anxiety prone whenever it came to not saying "yes"? This has me thinking that something's got to give. Do I give up my 2nd favourite past time; flirting (kissing being the 1st), so as to avoid my personal struggle with both the receiving & giving of rejection? Or do I alternately... I can't even think the thought, that's how implausible it seems.
These thoughts are far too higher grade for this time of day.
I'm zoning out & watching Mother Nature light up the sky with brush strokes of sunrise instead.

One thing is certain though; I'm by no means letting Mr Mouth Rapist dine me; let alone take me away. How I get the point across is now officially his own problem. It's SPRING DAY for crying out loud; not take out the trash day.

SCREWED

It happened without my consent: but once I’d realised what was going down, I chose to empower myself by owning it. Now that I own it, I’m far from certain what the perks of this are. I know that there’s a lesson to be learnt, but what exactly is it?

What exactly is it that I’m rambling on about to begin with?

Once upon 20 odd days ago, it occurred to me that it had been all of a month since I’d last gotten any. Had sex. Done the deed or whatever you want to call it. So do the maths. If it was 30 days of “sexlessness” 20 odd days ago, it’s been 50 odd days in total. When it occurred to me that it had been a month, I promptly dashed back to joburg with 1 agenda, and wound up fucking it up! I fucked up getting fucked! How appropriately Christine of me to manage standing up the same guy twice over 1 weekend. Just bloody priceless! It was after that epic failure of a weekend that I decided to re-think this whole thing.

As I write this, in fact; I’m astonished at the words I closed my opening sentence with. “I chose to empower myself by owning it”.  Like really? Who on earth owned my sex life before me, if not me? I’ve previously pretty much boasted about how I have 99 problems, but a dick ain’t one; yet today that sentiment has me looking at myself and unsure if I’m seeing a hypocrite in my reflection.

Let’s stand back shall we, and try make sense of these under processed; over thunk thoughts I’m thinking:

Is it really that controversial of me to separate my active sex life from my dormant sex life?

Duh! It’s down right dodge of me to pride myself on getting it when & from whom I want it; then turning around and saying it’s not my fault I didn’t get any for 30days.

Why must blame be placed?

Is it truly all that horrible of me to have been too busy getting on with living life, to even notice that I didn’t have my head in the gutters for a change? Would I have even noticed, had it not been for this cruel; bitchy winter?

Was my subsequent unspecific vow to celibacy, taken for the right reasons?

I suspect not. I wouldn’t know the right reasons even if they were handed to me on an answer sheet, I do know myself somewhat though. I think this celibacy stunt of mine is/was a sham. A brilliantly petrified reaction, in the name of protecting myself.

Darn it! I think I figured it out. The blimmin problem now is the fact that I’m compelled to share, or else Shezi will say I cheated her as a reader. . . Fuck! Fuck! Shit!

In as painlessly as I can tell this truth, I think this stunt was born from rejection. The 1^st 30 odd days of sexlessness were totally just nje.  What I neglected to mention earlier was that after that epic failure of a weekend, I DESPERATELY (not a flattering moment) tried a 3^rd time to link up with the same chap I’d stood up twice; and I wound up having a taste of my own medicine. Funny to think that 1 tiny dose of much deserved rejection, sent me running into a nunnery (the thought sincerely crossed my mind). 

This is where the truth gets hard to swallow. . .Why did I only have 1 person in mind of the x many readily available to me? Any sensible hot blooded person in my shoes, would have seen my agenda through, with someone else. No one else was an option for me. To date, I literally have no desire to be satisfied by anyone else; not even the sex-on-legs new dude on my radar.

So I’m officially no longer hiding behind celibacy! I’m also officially going to have to move right along, because that which was just unofficially made clear to me; is completely against my religion. I guess that makes me officially SCREWED!