So this is kind of a follow up to my "I'm a Cougar in Missoula" blog. I don't typically like doing follow up blogs, but I felt I should write this because I think I might need an intervention. A 22-24 year old boy intervention.
Living here has given me unbridled access to young college kids (MAN, that sounds creepy! See why I need the intervention?). It kind of started as a joke and then it started to become kind of real. Like I went out with a 22 year old college SOPHOMORE on more than one date (that is, until he saw me fall through a gate I thought was a railing and land directly on my face... but that's another story). After going out with him, I noticed the guys I was attracted to when we went out were getting younger and younger. Like I considered asking a few of them if they were using fake IDs.
So even after all this, I wasn't really worried. It was all just in good fun. But there have been two new developments that have me worried:
1. My friends are starting to not only accept my cougarness as normal, but are starting to coug out themselves. I mean, one of us prowling around town is dangerous enough. And it was truly eye opening when I found myself being JEALOUS when my friend met and started talking to a 22 year old college kid she met at the U. Whhhhaaaaaaa??
2. My cougar ways have extended outside of Missoula and made their way into my Portland life. A good friend of mine set me up on a date with her boyfriend's best friend, who happens to be 22 and just out of college. He's very attractive, has a job with a future, a good family and seems to be generally normal and not a complete tool (which, let's be clear, really puts him ahead of the game). After some champagne he asked me if I thought us dating could work out and I said maybe, if he could get over me being 6 years older. Then he said something that really made me think: "Really? I thought it would have to be you getting over the fact that I was 22." Huh. Yes, that makes sense. I've become so concerned with how OLD I am, I'm forgetting how YOUNG they are.
And as the veil lifted, I realized I was sitting in a stark white and dirty beige apartment on a seriously gross couch, staring at walls covered in college football paraphernalia with a boy my brother's age.
If that doesn't scare the crap out of all of you and make you want to get on the next plane to Missoula to save me, I don't know what will.