They say that a woman's sexual prime is 30, and a man's is 18 (or something like that).  I guess I can understand the biology behind the age of a sexual prime, but where is there an age-logic behind a dating prime?

I recently went out with "O" the other night.  We didn't really do much, just the typical first-meeting 'date': coffee and a tour of his studio.  I think it's safe to say I am smitten.  However, I have a feeling that this guy is going to break my petty heart.  I met him online years ago and didn't actually meet him until the other night.  How do I know he will break my heart after only meeting him once (and hundreds of text messages later)?  Because he's so pretty.

I also met a bar-back (let's call him "T") a few weeks ago, and we've so far gone on a couple of dates.  He lives up North and is from a small town.  I like him.  I don't fully know how I feel about small-town folks, but they are of a different breed.

Tomorrow, I've got a date with "S".  He kind of persisted for awhile, and I finally agreed to at least go out with him, at least just this once (what can I say?  I'm a sucker for giving chances).

Before you start judging me for bragging about my so-called exciting dating life, I must mention one thing that all of these guys have in common:  they are all under the age of 22. 

Don't say it.  Don't say that word that starts with a "C" and rhymes with Dougar.  Don't you dare say it.

How?  How does this happen?  Is there a shortage of girls somewhere?  Does it read "Desperate for a Date...any date" on my forehead?  Am I that short (short enough to be a teenager)?

I guess for anyone else, age isn't really a number and would've not thought twice about refusing to go out with someone 5 years younger than them, but hey.  I am willing to try anything once.  Or twice.  Or thrice (three dates is usually how long it takes me to decide if I wanna keep seeing someone).

So far, the 'experience' has been humbling.  They treat me well, and they seem to keep coming back for more.  I just wonder what I can really offer to them.

An excerpt of a conversation I had with a guy I just met...

Me: How old are you?
Him: 21, you?
Me: Guess.
Him: 19?
Me, feeling a little depressed: No, guess again.
Him: 21?
Me, feeling a little more depressed: Okay, I see where this is going. I'll save you time. I'm 26 in one week.
Him: That's soft.
Me: What?
Him: That means it's no worries.
Me: Oh, haha. You kids and your words.

...[awkward pause]

Him: It's just a slang.
Me: Haha, I'm playing. I think even if I was 21, I still wouldn't have got it.

I don't think he believed me. I wonder if that's the last I hear from 'Mr. Softie'...

It's a new year, which means, I turn a year older: I turn 26 in 5 days. Ugh. Ughhhhhhhhhhhh.

And what have I done in my [final] year of my 'youthful' age of 25? Now that I look back on 2009, I probably didn't do as much as I should have. What a waste. I have 5 days to make up for it, I suppose. But if I look back to say, the past 5 years, I really have no regrets (wreckless mistakes and all). I had a good run in my first 25 years of my life, I suppose.

So. A new chapter begins, and oh, how it's beginning.

It's bad enough that I'm reminded that I'm this-much-closer to the very dreaded 3-0, but I'm starting to realize that there are things that now must change, whether I like it or not:

1. Partying

Last week, I realized that perhaps I need not go clubbing every fucking weekend. My hearing has significantly been damaged, the long nights are starting to wear on my skin and I probably will no longer fit into the 'age group' of most of the party-goers who go to the clubs I go to. The partying doesn't necessarily have to stop, but the venues probably have to change...

2. Boys

In relation to the above-noted, last weekend probably gave me a good slap of reality of why going to aforesaid clubs should probably cease. I met a couple of guys and after talking to them this week, I felt like such a fuckin' cougar. All the guys I talked to were no older than 22. However, I did tell them I was turning 26 in a week, but they don't seem to care...

Although I would not completely write it off, my days of 'flinging' are slowing down, but actual dating is picking up. Still casual, but it's a step for someone like me (Vicki calls us types 'obli-phobes'). But if Sex and the City has taught us anything, hooking up doesn't have an age limit. ;)

3. Lifestyle

I've started oil painting classes on Sundays (could I be any older?!) and I'm thinking about taking up writing classes again. Weekends can no longer be days for pissing away.

I'm going to New York City next weekend to live out the rest of my first 25 years and I can't wait. New York City is one of my favourite places in the world, so why not? Although I won't be alone in the city, I am gonna be jet-setting on my own for the first time ever. I absolutely can't wait. Pearson Airport is overwhelming and confusing to me but it'll be an adventure of trying to read a bajillion signs and mad dashes to the gate. Love itttttt. I think I might look into more weekend-only trips this year. Housing-market is going up, so house-hunting for me will be scarce. So much for my Home-Owner-by-26 Plan:/