I’m a risk taker. At times, I have been a daredevil. I’m no angel, and I am definitely a siren. As I get older, I wonder if should start being more cautious about the kinds of shenanigans I get myself into on a bi-weekly basis. Should I not have gotten involved with the most pungent playboy at my film studio? Should I not have moved back to Los Angeles on a whim and a precarious livelihood? Should I look before I leap?
Well, ever since I was old enough (a toddler) to look people in the eyes, smile at them, and jump into their laps at the doctor’s office, looking before I leap hasn’t deterred me from going for it.
We are all here for a reason, if not many. If one of my purposes in this lifetime is to be a warrior for love and all the wild at heart, then I must. I must keep dating in Los Angeles. I must be open to different kinds of men–even reality TV stars.
As I’ve written in a previous post, I fell in love with a rock star not long ago. The experience was wonderful and horrible, and decadent and deadly, and surreal and like living the truest truth I’ve ever felt. If I could do it all over again I would–minus his public arrest and my weathering integrity.
You’re probably thinking, after such a disruptive dating debacle, why on earth would she ever want to get involved with someone in the entertainment industry again?
I don’t go seeking out these men, I swear. It. Just. Happens. I’ve known “Reality” for a couple of months now. When we met some definite sparks flew, but I wrote him off as a cheesy talk show host, who was just another notch on Hollywood’s belt of shame. But then I had an actual conversation with him, and my cynical lamp post knees began to bend, at least half-way.
Back when I watched MTV, I used to think Reality was funny, charismatic, light and bright, and in better shape than Michelangelo’s David. After meeting him in person, I can verify he is all of those things.
At a recent holiday party, our eyes locked as soon as I walked in the door, and as the old adage goes, “it was on!”
So can I remain open, or will I shut down, affronting the face of potential romance and fun? Can I date more than one person for once in my life like all the dating experts out there say single women should? Can I manage to not put Reality in a box and toss it to the sharks? Can I dismiss the fact that girls young enough to be my daughter stop him on the sidewalk to get his autograph?
I’ll let you know in early 2010.