Roxilla

I don’t know when it happened exactly, I’m guessing it was last year, but somewhere along the line my attitude to dating and the ‘game’ took a turn for the worse.

Not that I wasn’t a menace to boys everywhere before that, or that I didn’t have my share of increasingly outrageous times. But I used to have the right take on things, and it was all fun and games. Last year something kinda broke though, and took my mojo, my self-worth, my belief in the universe eventually coming through for me, and something much deeper down. I lost a lot, and some of that can never come back, but I found something as well… a strength I had no idea I had, that managed to get me through things on my own mostly, and get up to roundhouse kick another day. Slowly but surely, older and wiser and perhaps a bit jaded, I came out and got my zen back. Go me!

Anyway, so thing was, increased strength and self-sufficiency was all fine and dandy, but I had totally lost my mojo, along with all my super pulling powers, which was a bit crap. I couldn’t have scored a drunk 20 year old at Fiction, let alone react properly when an old flame (aka The Hottest Guy I Have Ever Known, Ever) came down from Jozi and took me on a date (and then still kept up a sweet little long distance flirtation over email, sms and phone, bless him). Ok, I did actually manage to score a drunk 20 year at Fiction, but it was a fluke and I hadn’t even done anything to deserve it. Erm, ok, perhaps there were a few such nights, but that’s not the point here. The point is, I have had to re-learn all of this, and it’s a bit harder than I thought it would be.

Firstly, I have to get it into my head that practicing my new found skills on the person who put me through all that shit is not the best idea. I am trying to get this one right, and the good part of falling to rock bottom is that there is nothing he can do anymore to top that, so he’s now pretty harmless. We really are trying to be friends, we’ve known each other for far too long to not be after all.

To keep myself out of trouble, I should really be accepting dates when I get asked on them. My endlessly wise friend is always telling me that dates are important to see what you like and don’t like and see that you can be treated nicely. I guess she’s right, which is why I have decided to stop turning things down and start re-training myself.

Apparently, guys give flowers on dates. I was even asked what my favourite flowers are, and my favourite chocolate. Other than my fucked up druggie ex back in the day, and a few roses from drunkass guys also back in the day, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before. It’s all pretty new and somewhat baffling, my version of ‘date’ has always been something different to the whole flowers, compliments, drinks thing. The few times I did get the proper treatment, I kinda ruined it all. Lesson here, if you’re going to write about a boy you like, don’t give him your blog URL when you’re drunk.

So now I think it’s high time the old Rox came out of her slump and started causing a bit of mayhem in the City. After all, I’ve rocked wild weekends and gorgeous navy toyboys, been bled on, fallen for dimples, pretty Swiss boys, all sorts of charmers, lovable rogues and a few nice guys, even if I didn’t get those right.

I feel like things are coming around to complete a cycle, and I feel like my mojo is finally back up again. Now if I can just throw myself out there, and get those eyelashes fluttering again, I reckon I’ll be somewhere near the old me again. Then the fun times will begin! Mwahahahaha!