Love, Mexican-American Style

My Mama always said, "Don't blog about anything too personal. It might come back to haunt you." And so far I've taken her advice to heart, which explains the high volume of posts about Gilmore Girls and Rilo Kiley.

But last night at AMP's Summer of Love, I was forced to examine my current relationship status. Well, maybe forced isn't the proper term, since I believe I'm the one that brought it up. Come to think of it, I'm surprised that my questions weren't met with the famous "You really wanna pull at that thread?" (Blood Ray loves saying that).

Details are hazy, but I remember someone talking about love.

I think I said, "Who needs it?"

Blood Ray's response? "Not you, apparently."

You see, for a few months now, I've been spending time with a certain someone, let's call him "Mr. X". We go out for drinks, dinner, movies, etc. We fool around. We text message each other like it's going out of style. But "Mr. X" isn't necessarily known for his warmth. Or tact. Or compassion. And not once have we had a conversation about where our "relationship" is "headed" (God, I'm going to wear out my quotation mark key tonight).

If I was dying to know, though, I would ask. But I'm not concerned at this point.

For as long as I can remember, I haven't really taken relationships too seriously. I'm fickle. I dumped my first boyfriend in 2001 because he didn't call me on Saturday like he said he would.

The last time I had a "boyfriend" (which was well over a year ago, mind you), I dumped him because I thought he spent too much time on his cell phone when he was around me.

Truth be told, I guess I don't know what I want. Not like Blood Ray, who already knows that he wants a non-blonde Jewish cat-hater.

I know what I don't want, though. I don't want kids, and I don't want to get married. So I guess I'm well on my way.