My ineptitude at flirting is legendary. I would be more comfortable setting myself on fire than trying to act purposefully alluring and allured with an attractive guy, and have considered flicking that Zippo in my pocket to escape irredeemable embarrassment when I open my fool mouth and jam my foot into it all the way up to my ribcage. Instinct (and, no doubt, hormones) run counter to my cerebrum�s unabashed inner terror, and I find myself drawn to these situations nonetheless. I think what I�m really hoping for is that, via providential coincidence, I will suddenly find myself in an unforced and totally organic encounter with a gorgeous man, with whom I instantaneously hit it off, and when I drop my book on my foot, he bends down to pick it up for me and hits his head on a table, and we laugh at how awkward we both are and then suddenly we�re making out for an hour.

Sadly, the way it generally works is that a gorgeous man tries to talk to me, and I totally freeze up and can�t think of anything to say except stuff that makes no sense and doesn�t lead anywhere. For example, on Friday afternoon, when this very cute boy that works in the building here -- and whom I have been eyeing for a while because of his extreme cuteness -- introduced himself to me, I made some asinine observations (�Oh, I hate traffic!�) and then totally let him get away. I wanted to charm him and keep him talking and talking, but I was just so nervous that he�d realize what a dork I am that I feared my only chance of keeping him interested would be to escape while I still had a little mystery left to me.

Unfortunately, I�m not very �mysterious�. Guys don�t hang around trying to get to know me because I�m enigmatic and sexy, but (presumably) because my bumbling antics are endearing, and my habit of chatterboxing my way around possibly intimate moments is a �challenge�. I guess I need a very particular kind of guy. After my Friday pseudo-flirtation, I was really quite excited, though, I have to admit. This guy is very cute and European (double bonus points), and he has dreamy eyes and a dazzling smile and auwo�732@$#*/.?��jb -- sorry, I just drooled on the keyboard. Anyway, I thought about him all weekend, because he made a point to introduce himself when he didn�t have to, and then made a point to linger around me when he didn�t have to, and it all added up to him actually desiring interpersonal contact with yours truly, and I was very much looking forward to continuing such this week.

Cue this morning, when I made a deliberate point of walking past his office so I could peek in and give him a friendly little smile to let him know that I was interested in him, and any nervousness on my part from the day before had maybe just been situational and not at all indicative of some desire to flee or whatever. Problem is, of course, that the nervousness was a product of my complete dearth of Suave, the umbrella of which the �friendly little smile� falls squarely under, so as I walked by his office and looked up, I gave what must have been the most deranged, crazy-eyed, third-grade class photo, �I stole some skin flakes from your jacket for my love shrine�, Vicodin-spired smile ever. EVER. I mean, it freaked me out, and I couldn�t even see it.

So now I�m afraid to show my face over there again. What if he�s like, �Whoa, I thought that guy was cute before, but now I realize that he probably eats LSD as a hobby, which would fully explain his erratic behavior and inability to maintain a conversation!�? He has likely totally changed the way he thinks about me, and even if I find a legitimate excuse to go back over there, I can�t very well approach him like, �Hey, just in case you misinterpreted from earlier, I�m not on LSD!� Because, believe me, I�ve been down that road. Only at the time, I was drinking out of a fountain that only had a little trickle, and this cute guy walking by was staring at me as I schlucked at the rivulet of water leaking out of the hole, and I jumped up and went, �I�m not sucking on the spout!� because I didn�t want him to think I was weird, you know? And then it turned out he wasn�t looking at me at all, so instead of just leaving well enough alone, playing off my possibly apparent abnormal behavior, and living in blissful uncertainty as to my reputation, I�d essentially just announced myself into official Weirdness.

So the question before the court is, how do I proceed from here? Do I avoid him and hope that he�ll come to me, thereby proving that I didn�t come across as nuts as I think? Do I go in search of him, hoping not to come across as nuts as I think I did the first time? Do I go in search of him, but avoid acknowledging him, so that he�ll think maybe that nutso smile was just a fluke, because look, I�m clearly not STILL smiling at him, so maybe I was really just trying to be friendly and haven�t stolen any skin flakes, or eaten any LSD, after all? Flirting is so fucking hard.

Someone Got Here By Searching For: sleeping sex [That just doesn�t seem worth it.] I�m Watching: Out of Sight, and remembering when J.Lo was an actress. I�m Forgetting: Something I was going to write here, that I thought to myself last week, �Oh, I should mention this in my journal, in that little part at the bottom where I update people about what I�m reading and watching and things!�

my last adventure: Remainders
�
my next adventure: No Means No