Desperado or deliciously diligent?
The radar. Some people have theirs so highly tuned it doesn’t have a sleep mode. Others, like myself need to turn them off blinker mode.
Recently, I went on holidays with two of the most out-of-action girls I’ve met in long time. Romance or fling hadn’t played a part in their daily lives for quite a while. Yet their radars were a true technological feat to behold. It could pinpoint and see a target a mile away.
I was truly envious.
What did it take to turn my radar up a notch or two? I need an upgrade or flick-through of the manual.
I guess, I made them my manual. And studied them so.
Now, I am wondering if I’ve over-studied.
The other night in my attempt to be a cultural, intelligent and slightly bohemian academic I went to a talk about the developments and ramifications of autism spider-webbing its way through popular culture.
Diligently, I was quite absorbed for the first five minutes, until a certain speaker reflected on his own personal experience spoke. Delightful.
My attention went from romancing about my pre-meditated, philosophical ravings of topic, to day-dreaming about how his slightly feminine hand gestures would feel on my face.
It then went from his touch, to pondering what he would like for breakfast, to finally wondering what I would need to do to press his buttons for all of this to eventuate.
Oh yeah, somewhere in the mix there was a little debating over whether he was gay or not due to slightly feminine hand gestures.
Abruptly I was snapped out of this reverie when reality took a side-swipe at my visage.
Am I desperate or deliciously diligent? What kind of person perves at a man in a place like this?
Recently, I went on holidays with two of the most out-of-action girls I’ve met in long time. Romance or fling hadn’t played a part in their daily lives for quite a while. Yet their radars were a true technological feat to behold. It could pinpoint and see a target a mile away.
I was truly envious.
What did it take to turn my radar up a notch or two? I need an upgrade or flick-through of the manual.
I guess, I made them my manual. And studied them so.
Now, I am wondering if I’ve over-studied.
The other night in my attempt to be a cultural, intelligent and slightly bohemian academic I went to a talk about the developments and ramifications of autism spider-webbing its way through popular culture.
Diligently, I was quite absorbed for the first five minutes, until a certain speaker reflected on his own personal experience spoke. Delightful.
My attention went from romancing about my pre-meditated, philosophical ravings of topic, to day-dreaming about how his slightly feminine hand gestures would feel on my face.
It then went from his touch, to pondering what he would like for breakfast, to finally wondering what I would need to do to press his buttons for all of this to eventuate.
Oh yeah, somewhere in the mix there was a little debating over whether he was gay or not due to slightly feminine hand gestures.
Abruptly I was snapped out of this reverie when reality took a side-swipe at my visage.
Am I desperate or deliciously diligent? What kind of person perves at a man in a place like this?
posted by Zap at
12:07 pm
1 Comments:
Radar, Gaydar, Hot or Not, desperately after something you may turn out not to want and yet whenever we're apparently in the perfect situation not to care, we're already out looking for the next best thing. Extreme cynic and dug in desperado or frustrated try-hard I think that we have to recognize that sometimes we're not one or the other; we're a continual mix up of all the above. This can be difficult, especially in the face of society's obsession with labels; continually baiting you to attach a sign to your head telling everyone which camp you're well and truly in. The other difficult one to work around is our amazing capacity for random connections. You're at work in an important meeting and suddenly you're preoccupied with wondering if England will win the cricket; or if you'll meet a hottie or a nottie when you hit the clubs on a Friday night. There's no escaping it, and so I'd have to say somewhat cynically that a diligent desperado is always just one step away from anybody who's hot to trot and looking deliciously diligent.
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