It is for this reason, in my self-diagnosed, expert opinion, that I have always dated gentlemen older (sometimes much older) than myself. When I was a freshman in high school, I was dating juniors and seniors. When I was a senior in high school, I was dating college guys. When I moved to LA at 19 years old, I was dating 24+ years old. The oldest guy I ever dated was old enough to be my father. My mother always married men 20+ years older than her. (She was married 3 times, so you can see that the pattern of disfunction in my own dating life is for good reason.) This blog is going somewhere less depressing, I promise. Keep reading.In all of the dating in all of the cities I have done in all of my years (it's a lot,) I have never dated someone my age. MUCH LESS... A younger guy. I'm not sure if there is a direct correlation between the time the number of gray hairs on my head started increasing and when younger guys started trying to get their Ashton on with me, but it's become quite startling. And I guess a little flattering, if I can be frank.
Don't get me wrong, I like 29 year old me TWENTYTHOUSANDMILLION times better that the 19-year old Luchana with stars in her eyes and a fake ID from Alvarado street, who those poor 25 and over guys had the pleasure of courting. But entering 'Cougar Town' (Or in my case 'Puma Town') is a pretty ballsy move on a 22 year old's part. We have seen so much more. We've dumped and been dumped... Over and over and OVER again. We've acted like psychopaths (especially us ethnic ones) and dealt with psychopaths. There is little hope left in our hearts. And what little there is, we're saving for the children we'd like to have someday... Along with the eggs we're in the process of freezing. In short, we're ready to be done.Are you ready to open that can of crazy, Oh young early-twenties hottie? Your naivet`e and the sweet and untarnished look in your eyes tells me, "no." But it was really cute when you held my hand when you first met me... I know that's what you're used to doing in the hallways of your high school. The old guys could stand to learn a couple of things from you. Do me a favor: go get your heart broken, sleep with about 28 more women, and call me after I have my second child.
