lessons relearned

25 year old guys are idiots. There’s a good reason I don’t take them seriously. Especially scruffy twenty-five year old musicians. Next time I start seeing a guy on a more than one time basis, can someone PLEASE remind me of that? Because I hate finding out that I’ve made errors in judgement. The only thing salvaging my pride is that I’d already pretty much fired him as a boy toy anyways.

And other lesson learned? It is just as stupid to date from within my friend pool as it was in Vancouver. Because then, when you realize it isn’t working, and you don’t have anything in common, and the chemistry pretty much is over because it isn’t working, you still get dragged out to parties at their houses. And you also see them turn up at parties you’re at back in West Hollywood because they’ve tagged along with the mutual friend who told you where said party was.

So. That’s over. Back to square one! Not that, for any point over the last four weeks, I’ve been less than single, just that sometimes, like two weeks ago at the PRESSFIRE! party, having a date around got in the way (link goes to newly unlocked, hilarious anecdote entry). It certainly never stopped me from flirting at my own BBBQ, or celebrating my birthday by making out with a ridiculously hot Welsh rugby player at James’ Beach. But, as one of my guy friends here says, I apply double standards to these situations. When I do it, it’s being an empowered female – when he does it, it’s being an immature guy. And so, I am reminded – twenty-five year old guys are idiots.