Lips

Men and Women: Dating

Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward ... I mean, where are we
going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking: ... so that means it was... let's see.... February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme check the odometer ... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed- even before I sensed it-that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a darn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a darn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their

"Roger," Elaine says aloud.

"What?" says Roger, startled.

"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have ... Oh my, I feel so ..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says Roger.

"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says Roger.

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that ... It's that I ... I need some time," Elaine says.

(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

"Yes," he says. (Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes." (Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

"Thank you, Roger," she says.

"Thank you," says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two
Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think
about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours.

In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"

Lately

Been sick..missed a few weeks at the gym. Got snowed in more than 3 days over two different storms. Found someone to take the old dishwasher on freecycle.org. Gave Thomas a bath. Working some...not really excited about it, though.

Found a new wine at a tasting last week and ordered a case.

Ambivalent about new years.

Pretty much not thrilled about much, these days.

Pink

Smoking

Bike

How wine tastings are really done

Red and Green

Snow

3 feet of snow here in Broomfield, CO. I spent the last two days in the house, hanging out. I've spent most of my formative years in the Midwest, so snow isn't anything new. I've got a basement full of food and I'd be fine for a month.

So, basically snow days for adults!

Thomas got a bit stir crazy, so I wound him up real good this afternoon and let him lose in the back yard. Basically all that you could see was a tail sticking up through the snow.

I finally dug out today -- they plowed a single lane down the middle of the road out here and after digging the truck out I put the snow chains on and went out for a look.

Pretty messy.

Lots of bad tv...some reading, a few naps. I started watching brokeback mountain and got as far as one guy fucking the other guy in the ass and had to give up. I could care less what gay people do with each other, but watching two guys do it was about enough for me.

Luckily for me I'd taped 'my summer of love' which is basically brokeback with lesbians. I can handle that.

Tomorrow I drive in for another day in paradise before the xmas weekend. Only a bit more shopping to do and one less year to worry about living through.

Swearing

Two little kids, aged six and eight, decide it's time to learn how to swear. So, the eight-year-old says to the six-year-old, "Okay, you say 'ass' and I'll say 'hell'". All excited about their plan, they troop downstairs, where their mother asks them what they'd like for breakfast.

"Aw, hell," says the eight-year-old, "gimme some Cheerios." His mother backhands him off the stool, sending him bawling out of the room, and turns to the younger brother. "What'll you have?" "I dunno," quavers the six-year-old, "but you can bet your ass it ain't gonna be Cheerios."

Reflections on life as a male

When I was 14, all I wanted was a girl with large breasts.

When I was 16, I dated a girl with large breasts, but there was no passion. So I decided that I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.

In college, I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional:
everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen; she cried all the time and threatened suicide. So then I decided I needed a girl with some stability.

I found a very stable girl, but she was boring.
She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided I needed a girl with some excitement.

I found an exciting girl, but I couldn't keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad, impetuous things, and flirted with everyone she met. She made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a girl with some ambition.

After University, I found a smart, ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground, and married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took everything I owned.

Now all I want is a girl with big tits.

Late sunday afternoon

The weekends always go fast. Last night was a wine/gift exchange here at the house. I wound up with some bag balm.

It's late Sunday afternoon, and this morning I went and met up with some friends for breakfast. I came home and went back to bed....sleeping until 1 or so. After some errands at home depot and the grocery store, I'm trying to decide what to do.

I should be working, but I'm not.

I have a bunch of side projects due this month. I've been telling myself today that perhaps Monday would be better....the weekends are short enough as it is without staring at the computer all day in my upstairs office room.

The cell phone is ringing down on the kitchen counter. There is that moment when you wonder if you should be running down the stairs...but instead I'm glassily staring out the window.

I guess I'll go see who it was.

The days are almost as short as they will get... the sooner that is over the better. December ends up being a month where you want to spend your free time in bed.