As a quick addendum to yesterday's post, my horoscope for today says:
Aries: You often push the envelope when you become excited about what you are doing. But now your enthusiasm might be less about what you do than what you say. Although you could be slow to discuss your ideas for fear of rejection, once you start talking it may be tough for you to stop. Don't overplay your hand. Share what's most important and then be quiet.
So there.
10 July, 2009
09 July, 2009
I'm Just Not That Into This Advice
After yesterday's post, I got an interesting response Direct-Messaged to me on Twitter. To paraphrase, it said, "Did you read that book He's Just Not That Into You? If a guy's interested, he'll say so, and there won't be all those mixed-signals and difficulty."
I understand that this advice was kindly meant, but I can't help but find it to be tragically flawed. The responder (who was female) seems to have this misconception that somehow maleness negates things like confusion, uncertainty, apprehension, fear of rejection... need I go on? If I have hangups and haven't had the guts to come out and tell the boy "you know what? I know this complicates things, but I like you in a more-than-friends way and I really think we should explore where this could lead," then why should I assume, simply because he is male, that he's exempt from the same things that make me hesitate?
I have baggage, so I get weighed down. Well, if you remember from yesterday, if the goal is to find someone with baggage that compliments mine, then it's only natural to assume he's going to get weighed down too, and by a set of experiences that might give him altogether different reasons to keep his mouth shut. None of this means, however, that one or the other won't eventually get to a point where the timing and level of trust are right to take the risk and speak up, and I want to ask the advice-giver if she ever stopped to think that often the things you have to wait for and work for are the most rewarding.
Oh yeah, and while I do appreciate it when a guy acknowledges my femininity (such as it is), I'm not missish enough to expect that in the year 2009, it falls on the man to call, ask for a date, or otherwise make a move first. Personally, I think it's about timing, confidence, and readiness to accept consequences of taking that action (and being prepared for it if the outcome isn't the one you were hoping for) and again, I don't see that as being limited to one gender or another.
Maybe I'm wrong though. What do you think, gentlemen? Feel free to comment anonymously, but I know you're out there. Please tell me if I'm right and you're also just not that into the notion that girls are the only ones allowed to be afraid of getting hurt.
P.S. before you comment - yes, I do make room for the possibility that one reason for a guy not saying he's interested could very well be that he is not interested.
I understand that this advice was kindly meant, but I can't help but find it to be tragically flawed. The responder (who was female) seems to have this misconception that somehow maleness negates things like confusion, uncertainty, apprehension, fear of rejection... need I go on? If I have hangups and haven't had the guts to come out and tell the boy "you know what? I know this complicates things, but I like you in a more-than-friends way and I really think we should explore where this could lead," then why should I assume, simply because he is male, that he's exempt from the same things that make me hesitate?
Oh yeah, and while I do appreciate it when a guy acknowledges my femininity (such as it is), I'm not missish enough to expect that in the year 2009, it falls on the man to call, ask for a date, or otherwise make a move first. Personally, I think it's about timing, confidence, and readiness to accept consequences of taking that action (and being prepared for it if the outcome isn't the one you were hoping for) and again, I don't see that as being limited to one gender or another.
Maybe I'm wrong though. What do you think, gentlemen? Feel free to comment anonymously, but I know you're out there. Please tell me if I'm right and you're also just not that into the notion that girls are the only ones allowed to be afraid of getting hurt.
P.S. before you comment - yes, I do make room for the possibility that one reason for a guy not saying he's interested could very well be that he is not interested.
08 July, 2009
I brought you flours.
I have had several conversations in the past week or so (in person, via email, on Twitter and Facebook) that have, in some form or other, touched on the subject of romantic relationships - the potential for them, what to do in various situations once they've been entered into, whether this or that is worth putting up with, working through, fighting over, or fighting for - concerning myself, various friends, and even my mom. If the run-on nature of that sentence isn't enough to convey how dizzying it all is, then you are probably very stable, level-headed, and smug-married with boring friends.
This Wednesday's Stranger Than Fiction topic: Love.
Do you know the word stumblejohn? I didn't until recently, when I learned that that's the word for what I am when it comes to expressing matters of the heart. Harold Crick, for example, is a classic stumblejohn, though not an irredeemable one. He does manage to go from sitting alone while the beautiful Ana hates him with all her might on the other side of the window, to living happily ever after on a diet of cookies and love, and all it took was the constant threats of impending death issued by a disembodied voice to give him some perspective.
I'm not sure where Harold's hangups came from, but for me, I think it has to do with trying to balance the desire to be honest and take a risk that might be worth it versus the desire to not be exposed to heartache or embarrassment. Oddly enough, this holds true for both potential beginnings and endings, if the ending is one of those "we just grew apart" kinds of things. Sometimes the feelings that suddenly need to be discussed are our own; sometimes, the issue is that we're getting a vibe from someone else. Sometimes, it's a combination of the two, and that, my friends is the kryptonite of the quixotic stumblejohn.
To quote another fictional expert on relationship ruination, Greg House, M.D. issued one of my favorite lines when it comes to this sort of debacle. He said, "it might not be easy, but it is simple," or something to that effect, and I couldn't agree more. The simplicity lies in having to choose from one of only two options: speak up, or don't. The hard part comes after that. If you decide to speak, there comes the agonizing over choosing the right words to say exactly what you mean with the right levels of class and dignity. This is especially difficult if there's a friendship you want to preserve - whether you're wanting to remain friends after breaking up, or you want to remain friends in spite of the other person possibly not sharing your more-than-platonic feelings. If you stay silent, then you have to watch the opportunity pass you by and wonder what might have happened if you'd had a little more courage.
Harold, of course, gets it just right. Ana is a baker who deals in blunt honesty but has a sense of humor, so his one-two combo of "I brought you flours," and "I want you" is a solid win. Hell, that'd work on me.
Despite the title of their movie, this I feel is too strange to be anything but fiction. Harold and Ana are clearly a couple of messed-up individuals, but neither of them really seems to have any baggage. I just listened to the audio recording of David Sedaris's When You Are Engulfed In Flames, and in one of the stories, he hit on a point that pretty much sums it all up. Once you've experienced heartache, you are then officially in posession of Relationship Baggage, and your only real hope of a successful relationshp in the future lies in finding someone whose baggage goes with yours, so you can have a complete set.
I actually think that's a fairly realistic hope, and I suppose that's why I do eventually manage to muster just barely enough courage to speak up, even if my best efforts tend to wind up nowhere near as clear and sophisticated as I'd like them to be. Instead, the outcome seems to effectively be the same as if I'd tried to ask someone how many quarts are in a gallon, and getting a response informing me that the square root of 4 is 2. Both parties are most likely wondering what the hell the other is talking about, and not entirely sure where to go with it.
This is why it amazes the hell out of me when I realize that I actually know quite a few happily paired couples. I wonder what would happen if I go back to:
This Wednesday's Stranger Than Fiction topic: Love.
Do you know the word stumblejohn? I didn't until recently, when I learned that that's the word for what I am when it comes to expressing matters of the heart. Harold Crick, for example, is a classic stumblejohn, though not an irredeemable one. He does manage to go from sitting alone while the beautiful Ana hates him with all her might on the other side of the window, to living happily ever after on a diet of cookies and love, and all it took was the constant threats of impending death issued by a disembodied voice to give him some perspective.
I'm not sure where Harold's hangups came from, but for me, I think it has to do with trying to balance the desire to be honest and take a risk that might be worth it versus the desire to not be exposed to heartache or embarrassment. Oddly enough, this holds true for both potential beginnings and endings, if the ending is one of those "we just grew apart" kinds of things. Sometimes the feelings that suddenly need to be discussed are our own; sometimes, the issue is that we're getting a vibe from someone else. Sometimes, it's a combination of the two, and that, my friends is the kryptonite of the quixotic stumblejohn.
To quote another fictional expert on relationship ruination, Greg House, M.D. issued one of my favorite lines when it comes to this sort of debacle. He said, "it might not be easy, but it is simple," or something to that effect, and I couldn't agree more. The simplicity lies in having to choose from one of only two options: speak up, or don't. The hard part comes after that. If you decide to speak, there comes the agonizing over choosing the right words to say exactly what you mean with the right levels of class and dignity. This is especially difficult if there's a friendship you want to preserve - whether you're wanting to remain friends after breaking up, or you want to remain friends in spite of the other person possibly not sharing your more-than-platonic feelings. If you stay silent, then you have to watch the opportunity pass you by and wonder what might have happened if you'd had a little more courage.
Despite the title of their movie, this I feel is too strange to be anything but fiction. Harold and Ana are clearly a couple of messed-up individuals, but neither of them really seems to have any baggage. I just listened to the audio recording of David Sedaris's When You Are Engulfed In Flames, and in one of the stories, he hit on a point that pretty much sums it all up. Once you've experienced heartache, you are then officially in posession of Relationship Baggage, and your only real hope of a successful relationshp in the future lies in finding someone whose baggage goes with yours, so you can have a complete set.
I actually think that's a fairly realistic hope, and I suppose that's why I do eventually manage to muster just barely enough courage to speak up, even if my best efforts tend to wind up nowhere near as clear and sophisticated as I'd like them to be. Instead, the outcome seems to effectively be the same as if I'd tried to ask someone how many quarts are in a gallon, and getting a response informing me that the square root of 4 is 2. Both parties are most likely wondering what the hell the other is talking about, and not entirely sure where to go with it.
This is why it amazes the hell out of me when I realize that I actually know quite a few happily paired couples. I wonder what would happen if I go back to:
07 July, 2009
Commedia di Sonno
Don't think for one minute that you're fooling anyone, Insomnia. I know what you look like. You think you're Harlequin - trickster, with all of us under your spell. Think again. Your legs are too spidery. Your teeth are too sharp, and those eyes... they don't even hold a cruel joke in a parody of mirth.
That nightmare, I'll grant you was a nice, nasty piece of work. I know you left it there, waiting, waiting for the moment I hit a low enough note in the rhythm. The bit with the big, scary bird with the mask, eating my heart... that was masterful. And the way it smelled and the fluorescent lights... You knew I'd be desperate to claw my way back to wakefulness and then you'd have your chance.
You can hide in my shadow, under my bed, in the creaking of branches outside. Lurk all you want, you bastard. I will beat you.
Chemicals are wonderful things. You're no Harvey Dent, no Scarecrow, not even a Penguin. You're just Insomnia, and no one ever named a Batman villain after you. You don't even make the DC/Vertigo pantheon at all, but you know who does?
That nightmare, I'll grant you was a nice, nasty piece of work. I know you left it there, waiting, waiting for the moment I hit a low enough note in the rhythm. The bit with the big, scary bird with the mask, eating my heart... that was masterful. And the way it smelled and the fluorescent lights... You knew I'd be desperate to claw my way back to wakefulness and then you'd have your chance.
You can hide in my shadow, under my bed, in the creaking of branches outside. Lurk all you want, you bastard. I will beat you.
Chemicals are wonderful things. You're no Harvey Dent, no Scarecrow, not even a Penguin. You're just Insomnia, and no one ever named a Batman villain after you. You don't even make the DC/Vertigo pantheon at all, but you know who does?
Morpheus. Sandman. Sleep.
You will lose.
One night.
Soon.
I promise.
One night.
Soon.
I promise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)