Treat me right (I'm yours for life)

Now that the drama of the past week has died down somewhat, we can now return to our regularly scheduled song-titled posts.

I never watched Sex and the City when it was on HBO. Why would I want to watch four women - who weren't all that attractive in my opinion - fool around with different men and talk about it over breakfast the next day? Heck, I had Friends and Alias to watch on regular cable.

Then, two summers ago, when my friends and I were renting a furnished apartment from four sorority girls, we stumbled across all the SATC DVDs.

Now here I am. A twentysomething girl who's jumped on the bandwagon. And like all the others who've come before me, I find myself admiring Samantha's ability to be completely emotionally detached from her relationships, talking like the ever-cynical Miranda, wishing for Carrie's glamorous life and salary (how one gets to shop and dress that well for merely writing a weekly sex column is beyond me), all while identifying with the fairytale-wanting Charlotte.

In a sense, I could identify with all of the girls. When I first came to college, I was completely naive and positive that my first boyfriend would be perfect and everything would be la vie en rose. (It wasn't.) So then I went through the Miranda stage - swearing off men, and absolutely determined to be my own independent woman - minus the whole single mother plotline. And of course I empathized with Carrie and her knack of getting into the most ridiculous situations. She thought she had it bad when Berger broke up with her via a Post-It note. My Berger broke up with me as we were watching Iron Chef, comparing our relationship to an overcooked lobster and a shrinking prawn. Yeah. I still don't get the analogy.

But I've never been a Samantha. And while I don't think I could ever be Samantha - what with all that sleeping around and running around the city in stilettos and skimpy tops - I've always admired her dating mentality. She's confident and knows that men are a dime a dozen. She never gets too attached and because she never has any expectations, she never gets let down.

This being the last quarter of my life in college, I figured I'd do the whole casual dating thing. This is my quarter to be a Samantha.

Too bad TV doesn't equal reality.

Really, how can any girl emotionally detach herself from a relationship? We're not wired that way. I could point to all those evolutionary theories about how females look for security and monogamy, but when it gets down to it - females value companionship. Girls have best friends who know every secret. Boys have gym buddies who know how much they can lift, and will occasionally motivate each other to do more. Girls are just programmed to form attachments. We thrive on them.

Think about it. Very rarely do you ever see a woman eating by herself, without a book, phone, or computer to hide behind. We live for our friendships and girl talk. It's impossible to think that we'd date a guy and not become invested. And if he's even remotely cute, man, how can we avoid becoming attached?

Earlier this quarter, I met a guy and we hung out twice. And even though I knew at the time, and even now, that nothing would come of it, since we both specifically stated so, I still find myself stalking him. Avoiding corridors where I know he's in class. Dodging past outdoor concerts where his band was playing. Obsessively checking his away message. I'll stop here so you guys don't think I'm crazier than you already think.

I am no Samantha. But really, I don't think any girl really can be. Because, let's face it ladies, if we're willing to be even semi-charmed by a guy, and don't find ourselves instantly repulsed, we're a little attracted. And once that attraction hits, there's no avoiding the attachment that's going to form. The more you hang out with a guy, the more attracted and more attached you'd be.

What is wrong with me? I should be studying for midterms instead of obsessing over the fact that a guy hasn't called me - never mind that I specifically didn't give him my number. And honestly, he's not even anything worth writing home about. He can't sing (though he believes he can). He should cut his hair. He dresses like he's still in high school and not about to graduate. And he mumbles. He had all the makings for a casual spring fling. It's me that can't be involved in something so casual.

And here's the reason. I can't have a spring fling because I don't want to be a spring fling myself. Here's the truth. I want someone to put down roots with. I want something to bloom from my romances. And spring flings just don't appeal to the romantic in me. Yes, there's something very passionate about falling in love with someone so quickly, but the fact that you could just as easily be cast aside is very disarming.

So, true to my word and Year of Yes resolution, I've flirted with casual dating and spring flings. But I'm done. It just not my kind of thing. I'm done with the Mr. Right Nows. I'm perfectly willing to wait for something meaningful.