So back to me venting or in this case, sharing. As you must have noticed by now, my blog has gone through a brief hiatus. Much has changed since being home. I am no longer the domestic queen of the house. For now my sense of responsibility goes as far as rostering my nightly networking events (see social parties). After all, it is an undeniable fact that I am an out and proud social whore.
I do miss the meditative nirvana I reach through cleaning and the inhaling of domestic solvents/detergents that come with it. The total satisfaction after a session just makes me want to fan myself on a porch with a cigarette in one hand saying “Oh my…..”.
How did I manage to lose that climax of domestic satisfaction?
On a separate vein of topic: since being out and single, friends and randoms alike, have been pressing me on what my type is or if I have a type at all. Some of which have offered to set me up on blind dates and what not. Apparently I am making the mission quite impossible – thank God. I’ve been less than forthcoming with “the truth” and I can see that the old “oh, I don’t really have a type” rag thin excuse is wearing out on my concerned (or rather, bored and amused) friends.
Seeing that I haven’t been single long enough to ponder over this since mid 06, it is difficult to say if I do have a type or if indeed, my type does exist. I personally think that commuting between Melbourne and KL has greatly biased my preferences and type(s), and greatly decreased my unrealistic expectations in regards to the current social milieu. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was out on a date. When it comes to same sex encounters, one would have to make it quite clear when an appointment for lunch spells “I wanna eat you”. Cos well, we’re girls and girls go for lunches and din din’s all the time. Surely I don’t expect someone to go “Hey, wanna date?” That’s a bit too in my face for my liking. But I must say, I do miss going on dates. I miss the butterflies and anticipation of the unknown.
So what IS my type?
Well, I think its safe to say that I can’t do men.
Tried my hardest – * squeezes eyes and scrunches face *.
Sorry nope. Can’t mate. I just can’t psyche myself up to be excited around them.
Having said that, ironically, I like women to have similar personalities to confident men. And by that I mean masculine traits but not the physical aspect mind you. I also tend to fall for girls who are considerate, courteous, witty, ambitious, with a healthy appetite for adventure that ventures out the four walls of the bedroom. After all, there is more to life than just sex. Oh and having said that, cuddles! I love me some good cuddles.
Looks wise I can be quite accommodating but I know something is up when my heart pulsates when I look into someone’s eyes. Seeing that I don’t get nervous or anxious with new people, I use that as a tool of elimination. Of course looks do play a part. I can’t say that I could easily look pass an edgy girl bursting with character, fully packaged tall, tan and lovely. But seeing that most girls back here aren’t tall or tan, I’ll just have to go with lovely. And yes, that itself does not elaborate on a type.
It’s difficult to determine if I have a ‘type’ seeing that being single and happy just reinstates the fact that I don’t feel a need to want another person – at this point. Or in a more optimistic vein of perspective, that perhaps I do not have a type after all, which makes it all the more challenging finding a certain someone. Till then, I should go back to being the domesticated diva I once was where I can achieve shameless climax that won’t require any form of self-stimulation or the presence of another.
A wet cloth in one hand and a duster in the other – single hood, hear me roar!