October 8, 2004
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Classic Australian teen angst movie…
Why does flirting surge such emotion into us? That gray zone of the implied, the nervousness of rejection, and the paradise of feeling wanted, it all adds up to a magical and very frustrating part of the human mating ritual. You see a girl at a party, conversation circles flow and remold themselves, witticisms are said, and suddenly the unbidden gaze of a cute shortie streams in at your peripheral vision. Interested? Annoyed?
Snap happy camera moments lead to tight conversation with shifty underlying meanings you question the rest of the night. Good byes with subtitled hopes of making another connection at some undescript point, deeper contact, losing the safeness of anonymity, arriving at the threshold of broken down barriers and truly testing the communion of two unknown souls meshing for the first time.
The liminal, or the middle, the limbo where everything and anything can happen, the point between decisions, the lacuna from neuron to neuron, an area of butterflies in stomachs and overproducing glands pumping biochemicals… actualness, accomplishment, true action, the finality of decision with its closure and branching off to new adventures—it has its own rewards and elation (or distraughtness and blues), but the infinte possibilities (quick side inside joke: hey Patrick, good luck in the searching the infinite abyss) of the unfinished, untried state gives it the magical aura of anything and everything all at once, heizenburg’s (or whoever he is) cat, and I revel in that.
Yeah, I know, I’m going a bit wannabe deep, trying too hard. I just needed to get that off my chest. Sex, not just the simple definition but the all encompassing meaning of the word that delves into all the spheres of human life gets me all hot and bothered, so I take any chance to philosophize on it. Flirting, that prelude to sex, it IS magical. A place where we are all vulnerable and just want to be accepted.
