ScallionLove

I want to die, try, fly…

They did it.

I wonder if he got down on one knee.

I’m sure she cried.

I wonder what the rings looks like.

And how many times he’s lied.

They did it.

I wonder if he promised her always.

I wonder if she shook with joy.

I doubt he remembers the faces.

The scent of rapture

They did it.

With this ring, they did betray

On the underside of things

In the walls of where they’ll live

They’ll remember

They did it.

And now I’m falling

Someone’s pulled the earth out from under me

I wonder if I’ll find the ground

Before their first child is born

They did it.

Their betrayal stole my innocence.

Their union trivializes my heart.

Their longevity mocks my outrage.

Dear God, what if they make it.

They did it.

"Tale as old as time, song as old as....." BARF. I recently noted a group on facebook entitled, "Disney Gave Me Unrealistic Expectations about Love." Unrealistic, indeed - and not just about the strength, stamina, and sex appeal of our Prince Charming, but about they way, if we are worthwhile, we are supposed to be perceived by all men.

Now I'm not blaming Mickey & Co. for all female feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness. Certainly there are other forces at work. But, what I am saying as that this is a serious problem. For many of us, when we date a guy and it ends because "he's just not that into us," it sets off a downward spiral of self-loathing that is usually only righted by our best friends forcing us to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps. And why do we bounce back? I maintain it is a conscious decision. Not some realization that "I'm better than this," or "I'm taking this way too seriously," or "He wasn't that great, what am I doing?" Rather, we decide that it is a better existence to peel ourselves off of love's superhighway and begin the journey again than to just stay there like social road kill.

Some of this may seem extreme. By no means do I mean to condemn any one man or any group of them for that matter - that would be a grossly over simplified placing of blame. We, ourselves, certainly share some of the blame for allowing this cycle to continue for so many centuries.

Granted, we're working hard, taking care of home, family, and career. And, heck, even making an average of 73 cents on the male dollar (I'm NOT suggesting we don't have light years of improvement ahead in the equality arena). And yet, for many of us, we still put much of our self-worth stock in the "what he thinks of me" basket.

So I ask you this: Why? Obviously this sometimes obsessive need for male approval isn't solely a neuroticism of Freudian proportions. I know many, many women with present dads, absent dads, dead dads, and everything in between who experience this same need. Are we the ones objectifying women because we allow ourselves to be not only affected, but molded and shaped by what the male population thinks of us?

Now I'm not saying that we should be able to undo thousands of years of gender inequality, and in some cases oppression. However, Gloria Steinem once said, "Power can be taken, but not given. The process of the taking is empowerment in itself." So if we refuse to be objects, refuse to be molded at the molecular and spiritual levels based on what men think of us, would we then become subjects instead of objects? Could we turn away from the mirror which holds so many of our hearts and minds captive? And could we then come closer to breaking free of the demographic and sociological ties that bind us? Might we feel about ourselves exactly how we want to feel?

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" asks the Queen. Answers the man in the mirror, "……….

Ok, so that "word-meld" doesn't work quite as well as vali-dating, but hey, they can't all be winners.

Every heterosexual guy, ever: "Women are too complicated. Say what you mean and stop giving me shit when you ask me to say what I mean and then I actually do it.

Fair enough. But how about taking some of your own advice? In my inter-gender communication, i've certainly hit the language barier...head on...with no helmet...etc... However, when I say i'm gonna call, I call. When I say I want to hang out with someone, I want to hang out with them. And, when I say i'm going to show up somewhere....(that's right)....baring hell or high water, I show up. And if something happens and i'm going to be late (right again)......I call the person. Why? Because i'm just that desperate for a boyfriend? No. Because it's common human decency and courtesy, that's why.

So, why, why WHY is it, then, that men feel the need to play the "so...you wanna hang out tomorrow? (sure, when's good for you?) like around nine? I don't know...maybe we should just play it by ear. (what do you want to do?) Um, whatever....we'll figure it out...." pre-date game that is juvenile and stupid and frankly, weird.

Like, ok, so you want me to pencil you in for friday night...barring me from making other plans....but you want to be vague enough to escape out the back door should a better offer come along? I'm just speculating, because i'm entirely pissed off at the prevalence of this kind of behavior. In days of yore (or maybe just in fairytales) men treated time spent with lovely women as something to look forward to and maybe cherish a little....not something to run away screaming from at the last minute.

So the question is this: Why the fuck....if you're interested in someone enough to talk to them online/on the phone at great length and actually ask them out - why are you too much of a twatwaffle to solidify plans more than 2 hours in advance?

Is it too much of a commitment to potentially "give up" your friday night on someone with whom you might not click?

And here's the part that reeeeeeeeally pisses me off. So when i've decided to set aside that time slot to hang out with you and I want to know what the plans are (gasp!) more than the aforementioned 2 hours in advance, why is it i'm made to feel like a needy, clingy pathetic little girl?

Coming full circle....so you only want me to say what I mean when it suits you? And when it doesn't i should be complacent and just play your game? Fuck that. Listen, I love men. I love the way they look, the way the smell (usually), they way they can melt all my defenses with the right look. I love the witty, challenge banter that's usually just oratorical foreplay. But i'm sick to death of this tcfs bullshit.

Bottom Line: wanna get a great girl in bed? be upfront with her. show her you're willing to set aside a little time for her. show the fuck up. make her feel like an equal. with a mature girl who knows what she wants (and if she's spending time with you and has her shit figured out - you're probably what she wants), courtesy is the ultimate panty-dropper.

So not unlike Rod Stewart's misconception that he looked good on stage in black, lycra workout pants well into his fifties, i've been operating under the idea that i'm pretty good and "landing me a man."

Hmmm...not so much. Over the past six months, i've bar hopped, blind-dated, internet-dated, not-so-much-dated-as-hooked-up, and dated-with-reservations (no, not dinner reservations. hahaha!) And how did it turn out, you ask? Oh i'm about as alone as Tom Green's other testicle. So, i've decided to accept the fact that my being proactive in this area hasn't gotten me an inch. Thusly, I give up. Wholeheartedly. Henceforth, i'm going to make a concerted effort to embrace my singlehood. And, it feels really really good!

Anyway, not wanting my buffet of recent dating blunders to go to waste, i've decided (with PJ's suggestion) to write about them. There's a lot of effin' crazy people out there who deserve (for better or worse) to be written about.

So, Dear Readers, be looking forward to some anecdotes from my personal library of wacky dating experiences, embarked upon in the noble name of proactivity. I'll also be including some donated by my friends (changing the names to protect the innocent), so please if you've got any crazy dating stories you'd like to share (and don't want to blog about them yourself), send them along!

Thanks...and stay tuned!

So I was talking with a dear friend from college today about relationships (gee, Jess - that's a new one for you. Shut up, voice.) She's passionately in-love with a good man. He's kind to her, attentive and, despite coming from different backgrounds, they seem to really have a good time together. But here's the problem with Ben (pseudonym, of course): he drinks ALOT. It seems to be the default activity in his life.

Ben was raised in a culture where drinking was the main activity through which social bonding takes place. He's not a mean drunk, and he certainly isn't unkind to her. But, when he drinks, he's unavailable. It's like, the man she loves gets replaced with this filler person who is only 'holding Ben's place' while Ben is somewhere else. And the filler person is sleepy and disconnected.

My friend's predicament got me thinking about That One Thing. Sometimes it's something tangible like binge drinking. Sometimes it's a little more ambiguous. Regardless, it made me wonder if, in relationships, there isn't one thing that always bothers us about our partner. Something that nags at us saying: "what if this is the way it will always be?"

I'm in love with a great man. He's honorable and all the things I look for in a partner - when he's around. The trouble with him is that he works constantly. He goes to his 9 - 5 job, then, straight to his friend's apartment to work some more. I'd be lying if i said that this situation wasn't incredibly frustrating to me. It's like that episode of SATC when Big is all upset about the actress he's dating and her inaccessability. He says to Carrie and Aiden, "She can reach me, but I can't get her." Sometimes I feel that way with my boyfriend. His life seems very compartmentalized and when we're not together, it feels like i'm forgotten because he won't call for days at a time. And, I don't call because I either think he'll be busy or that I should be playing hard to get (thanks for instilling that one, Mom).

Anyway, i guess the question is: Is there always That One Thing? In love, do we pay the price of emotional and physical connectivity and euphoria by constantly coping with one aspect of our partner's being that really bothers us? Is it some kind of balancing act imposed upon us by the forces in the universe that serve to protect equilibrium? Or, are we meant to keep searching till we find someone with whom we can have a Thing-less relationship?