Ah! Young love...how sweet & dysfunctional are thee!

Ah! Young love...so naive, so immature, so unsophisticated, yet ever so charming!

Who hasn't been blessed to witness the giggling prowess that is the 15 year old teenage girl in pure, utter, blushing-because-he-looked-at-me, undying lurve? Or the teenage boy in all his pimply, voice-breaking glory, professing everlasting adoration to his I-can't-imagine-ever-living-without-you first beau.





THE PASSION IS RAW, GENUINE, HEARTFELT

and very real for all involved. It's a beautiful right of passage in most parts of the world (although I hear many bound for arranged marriages experience something akin to love that grows more with each passing year instead of the giddying dizziness of young love at first instance). It's a very intense time and most don't forget their first true love. But what happens when your 'love maturity' gets stuck at this infant stage?  Not quite so attractive in a 43 year old woman, is it?



THIS IS WHERE I APPEAR TO BE AT

in my quest for love. I have the emotional IQ of a teenager with pathetic giggling immature hormones when faced with the prospect of meeting a man I'm attracted to. I blush so much, but not in that 'cute, rosy-cheeked youthful' look - more in the 'this woman has obviously reached menopause and is having a hot flush' kind of way.

How is it that my body has more than happily aged with the decades (and not well at this stage!), and regarding all other areas besides love I am on track to fuddy duffy-ness, yet my ability to hold a conversation with a handsome stranger turns me into a quivering Twi-hard. (I'm not too old to know the difference between Team Jacob and Team Edward...I'm on the latter by the way.)



HAVE YOU EVER BEEN AT A PARTY

or a nightclub (do they still call them that?) and seen one of those very confident, self-assured, incredibly attractive women walk in like they own the joint. Where mens' heads swivel faster than Carrie in that horror flick to catch a glimpse of her beauty; these once respectable, Armani-clad business men - comfortable making trillion dollar deals by day - turn into fluttering, drooling infants hoping like heck she'll notice him?...well that's not me!

My dating maturity level seems to have stalled and was obviously stunted in my youth - not unlike my height! If i do get the courage to go on a date or even walk into a room where other people - particularly of the male variety - preside, I quickly turn into a quivering blob of jelly - with about as much cohesiveness. Not a pretty sight. Embarrassing and cringe-worthy for onlookers who have the misfortune to witness but are unable to look away.



SERIOUSLY, IT'S A MIRACLE I MARRIED ONCE;

but we were young and stupid (of course I'm just speaking for myself here and not Drummer Boy and Gorgeous Girl's Dad)...just incase he's reading :-) I guess it shows another level of maturity though that we're both still very good friends. But dating and the divorced woman is something of an enigma for me. Maybe I didn't experiment enough in my youth? Maybe I was too wayward? Maybe I never learned the life lessons I was supposed to 28 years ago at a young innocent teen, and i'm doomed to walk the earth in this lifetime with a 15-year old love-sick lunatic trapped inside me.



I HAVE SUCH A GOOD MORAL COMPASS

for all other areas of my life.  I make sure my kids are well loved and well taken care of; I pay all of my bills on time, I drive responsibly taking care not to speed or run red lights; but when i've got a 'crush' on someone, all that common sense goes out the window.  I start behaving like a tween.  Remember way back in high school when you liked a boy, you'd make your best friend go up and tell him.  That was just the way we rolled back then...or you'd pass a note in class with both your initials on it with a heart symbol in between (or if reallllly in lurve, you'd write his last name as yours!)  If you're giggling right now, me thinks you may have partaken in one of these activities.



ALL SEEMS RELATIVELY HARMLESS NOW

with the gift of hindsight, but at the time you remember how life-shaping and dramatic it all was.  Imagine being a teen with the hots for a guy in 2011.  Gawd, it'd be tragic.  There are infinite more ways to embarass one's self.  This is, afterall, the age of instant communication.  So a not so well thought out proclamation of love on Twitter or Facebook could have dire consequences (says the girl talking about her love life on the blogosphere!).  The harmless walks by your crushes house a couple of times a day with your girlfriends in tow seems so innocent now, relative to this stalking-crazed society where we can Google Mr I-Like-You, or check out his details on Google Maps at the touch of a finger.


LUCKILY I'M TOO PARANOID TO STALK SOMEONE

and am highly claustrophobic (thereby doing everything I can to avoid a prison sentence).  But I have to confess that when I see my Mr Crush, who happens to work at a place I frequent - frequently - my heart goes a flutter and I feel like an inept idiot.  I try to smile, but I'm sure it comes out as some sort of stoney-faced grimace.  I always seem to have to buy something embarassing like feminine hygeine products, kitty litter or frozen-dinners-for-one when I see him.   And I'm beginning to think there are only so many cans of cat food you can buy in a quest to visit said shop to see said 'crush' without looking slighty paranoid that Armageddin is just around the corner.


PERHAPS THE TIDES ARE A CHANGING FOR THE BETTER THOUGH

Maybe this little black duck is growing up.  I noticed (not unlike my 14 year old daughter) that my mood was dependent on whether Mr Crush would notice me and say hello (putting me in a high state of glee), or ignore me like I didn't exist (placing me in a bit of a slump).  Perhaps I am growing up a little in the love department after all, because yesterday I decided that I am worthy and valuable as a person just because I exist.  There's no big score card in the sky that deducts points because I'm currently overweight (but working hard on getting in to shape), or slightly off track on my career path, or slightly immature in the love department.  Surely the points would only get added back on again when my shiny personality is taken into account, or my wicked sense of humour and kindness :-) . 



SO BEING STUCK SOMEWHERE BETWEEN TWEENY-VILLE AND COUGAR-TOWN

seems to be where you'll find me on the love-GPS.  I still firmly believe that men are at heart the hunter-gatherer types and quite like the chase.  I think we women scare them a little, particularly in this modern-era when we come on a bit strong.  So I will continue to live my life, start my new job, exercise myself into shape AND continue to buy more cat food in the hope of running into Mr Crush.  If he decides one day he might like to make small talk in the produce isle again - that was a goooood day, lol - , hopefully I won't be too busy washing my hair (or at least tweeting about it!).