Amazon.com: Customer Discussions: Babble

It came to me that I think I won’t date for a year. As a 12-stepper I’m inclined to say I need to put God first (Lord, I hate the 12-steppese “Higher Power,” a.k.a., “HP.” I always feel like they’re talking about my computer printer. Or some redneck who always has parts for your 1958 Citro�n — “Yeah, we’ll give ol’ HP a call, see if he has that gasket & maybe trade it for a mess o’ catfish.”). Or “me” first, whatever that means. What I felt this morning, though, was that whatever I look for in men, it’s probably not there & probably ought to be in me.

This intuition was confirmed when The Boy I Like Best sent one of his cryptic 3-line weekly emails. I replied that these communications make me cranky because I never know what to write back. They’re manipulative in the extreme, even if it’s because he has nothing to say or is in some kind of crisis, because I either have to conform to his verbal anorexia, which makes me look mingey, or — babble.

Too many politics there. & we’re friends on some level so who cares? I’ve used men in the last few years as a rush, as an intricate game. I can learn to play bridge if that’s what I need.