Dear moll diary 2

I recently had a nasty bout of 'moll identity crises'. Yes it disturbs me too.

Mr Bodyboard woke at the ridiculous hour of 7:30 on a Sunday morning. Blearily I acknowledged his presence, hoping that by doing so I had excused myself from any participation in whatever was happening. I half listened to some ramblings about a bodyboard competition, the surfing conditions, all of this washing over me and sending me to sleep like a lullaby.

Off he went to 'check it out' and I was asleep before he shut the door, until an hour later he heralded his return with more discussion about the comp. finally he stated he was off to await his heat, and I fully intended to wave him off with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart.

Somewhere within me a sly little voice wondered 'why didn't he ask you to come and watch?'
'Because I DON"T WANT TO ' I thundered back (actually, can you reply to yourself or was I just extending an inner monologue?) but yet I heard myself ask 'Would you like me to come and watch?'

I mentally slapped my forehead. I'd let the moll out of the bag.

'No it's fine' he said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.
I was shocked and horrified. I stumbled over to the mirror and examined myself. Was I not a highly desirable sex kitten that anyone would be proud to have cheering them on? Who wouldn't want my lovely eyes gazing at them as they demonstrated their manly prowess on tiny waves?

I hung out the door and called out to him on the street 'well I was going for a swim in an hour or so, I'll swing by on my way'. I lay down and picked up my book promising myself that I would exercise my brain with the densest prose I could find before heading down, which would somehow make my actions OK.

But within seconds I found myself in front of the mirror again, trying on different saris, packing a bag, and then heading out the door.

I got to the comp and he came over, his race, or whatever they call it, wave triumph or something, hadn't started yet. I felt O.K, this was about me supporting and strengthening our relationship, nothing to do with mollyness, just good old fashioned love. I looked lovingly at him and noticed that he seemed a little stand-offish, not 'can't keep my hands off-youish' as I felt my outfit deserved.

I asked if everything was OK, expecting pre comp nerves or something. But instead he looked sheepish like a boy in a school yard asking out a girl for the first time. 'None of the other guys girlfriends are here'.

I cringed at myself, the lone moll at the comp with nothing better to do.

But I wasn't alone.
As I locked eyes with the one other female I suddenly realized I needed to run away. Very fast.

She sat next to her standing boyfriend, back resting against a rock and a sari drapped artfully around to expose just the right amount of bikini, as he lovingly rested his coke can on her head.
Like a freaking table.

'This beach is too crowded' I chirped slightly hysterically. 'I'm going to the next one over.'

The water was a freezing 15 degrees, but I stayed in for ages, perhaps trying to be reborn from my earlier brush with grade six moll behaviour. As I floated in the water, meditating upon my actions and slowly watching my toes turn blue, I didn't come to a conclusion re if I had actually been supporting mr Bodyboard or if my standards were slipping, but I did come to the conclusion that from now on I would always position myself next to a ledge to rest drinks on.