It’s been about 10 days since I broke up with took a break from Jeremi, the Jewish single dad who smothered me with gave me a lot of compliments. Since then, I’ve sat back, taken a deep breath, and decided to just be single. At least until grad school classes conclude, in mid-June. I enjoy being single. I really do. As a child, I played with the idea of being a hermit or nun, and relished in the idea of gardening with a group of girl friends, enjoying large cups of tea in the afternoon and weekly visits to church, all while living in some beautiful mountain range, right under the chin of God himself (or herself).

Then I discovered romantic love. And there was no turning back after that. I adore love. I live and breathe for love. I get a kick out of the entire process, from flirting to kissing to folding laundry together. It’s all beautiful, and I have no doubt I’ll find a partner who appreciates my companionship as much as I appreciate his. For the time being, however, looking for love has put a damper in, you know, grad school. So I decided to be single. What does “being single” mean? No dates No kissing, or anything else for that matter Flirting, however, is fine – and fun (come on, it is!) Yet, in the ten days I’ve been single since Jeremi, I’ve had quite the tailspin of events, even if they were only minor in comparison to my earlier shenanigans. A summary of the last ten days in the Life of Z-Blue:

I danced with another Indian guy at a party. Well, two of them, actually (uncle and nephew!). Neither of them asked me for my number (was my game off?) but I wouldn’t have wanted them to call anyway. Like I said: Too busy. I’ve flirted on and off with a couple of friends I bumped into at a coffee shop: An Armenian-American DJ and a Chinese-American finance worker. Both as cute as a button, both nearly asexual in their interactions with me. Seriously. I went to a club and they didn’t even dance with me, either of them (seriously, is my game off?). Francois texted me flirtatiously on Saturday – three times. Asked me to go sailing with him. It’s been five weeks since we broke up. This is after he defriended me on Facebook and told me we were no longer friends. OK, don’t hate me, but I texted him back too. I did! *slaps wrist* But I also told him I couldn’t hang out with him since I wanted more than a friendship. After five weeks, his text message made me catch my breath and realize my heart still skipped a beat thinking of him. Argh! Just leave me alone, Francois! Ansel and I have been flirting through Facebook. Admittedly, I started it. *slaps wrist* He even invited me to tag along to the upcoming Flight of the Conchords concert in L.A. I declined after some thought. Dating him yet again would be a bad idea. No, Ansel, the third time is not the charm.

Payam has been friendly, but not flirty, with me. We keep playing phone tag, trying to meet up for dinner or coffee, but it hasn’t worked out yet. He’s sweet, but I’m more and more certain he’s gay (that really deserves its own blog post). Jeremi began, slowly, to email me again. Poor guy, he acts like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Admittedly, I threw him for a loop by taking a break from him, but am I still going to be interested in him in a month? Who knows? Itzli has been amping up his flirtatiousness with me (latest text message – “How’s it going, gorgeous??”). He’s too-too fun and flirting with him is a game I don’t want to end. But how much longer before I decide to get him to ASK ME OUT? I’ve got my sights on him. He intrigues me tremendously. He may be “just not that into me” but I refuse to give up until I know for sure. Today, I asked a friend to marry me for a green card. He agreed. Who knows? Anyway, in summary, being single (and sleep-deprived and over-homework-ed) is clearly making me a little nutty. Maybe I should have just stuck it out with Mr. Compliments himself? One thing’s for sure: I’d make a terrible nun.