Why all ‘threesomes’ are not equal
Ah, Friday night at home.
Soundtrack: Horace Silver’s Song for My Father.
Drink of choice: vodka & OJ — ghetto, I know, but watcha gonna do on an unemployment budget?
I suppose theoretically there could have been date #3 with the Funny Man this weekend, but he returns to school on Sunday, his week was crazy-busy, and I’m not sure what he wanted anyway. When I told a girlfriend about him last weekend, she asked, “Have you talked to your sister about him yet? I think you just want to be friends with him.”
Which is maybe what he wanted too. But somehow (more so outside Christian circles, perhaps) most men don’t seem to be interested in friendship with women unless the sexual tension has been addressed first (this, I suppose, can range from having a go at making out to having a go, full stop). Honestly, I can’t think of a single friendship with a guy that didn’t at some point involve one or the other of us flirting with at least the idea of attraction.
If the classic When Harry Met Sally dilemma weren’t enough, recently my friend the Ringleader also raised another conundrum: what do I do about dates now I’m writing the blog? Funny Man’s introduction to me basically was the blog. While he didn’t, like Covert Romantic, lead with a stated intention of “getting in my blog,” this soapbox did undoubtedly add complexity to the equation. As Curious Reader recently posed:
But … still. The blog problem. Does this just turn into some bizarre e-reality writing venture? In the interest of male egos (which I hear can be quite fragile), I have so far decided to take a cautious approach toward blogging those I know, and who know of the blog. Better to a) wait a long time until probably the guy’s stopped reading the blog anyway, or b) come up with general observations or musings based on the date, rather than giving the sort of blow-by-blow I’d offer gossip-hungry girlfriends. Who says my shtick always has to be colorful narrative? Besides, in story-telling mode I tend to run long-winded. I mean, really long-winded. It’s not for nothing high-school classmates used to time my answers in class. :-o
But I digress. (It’s this sort of tangent, you see, that adds such length to my stories.) So, the Ringleader proposes that possibly guys could feel hurt if I don’t mention them in my blog. Like, “It’s a blog about her love life, but she’s not writing about me, so I guess I’m not very important to her.”
But I said, It just seems so incestuous or something to immediately write up what I think of the guy. He wouldn’t know that normally, and probably he wouldn’t like to know every thought I had about him (would I want to know every thought he’s had about me?!!). I mean, even if the assessment’s not 100% positive, it’s not like I’m going to totally reject him. So there’s really no point in trotting out the little idiosyncrasies that may make for a better story, at the expense of ego.
The Ringleader still thinks a guy might rather have the flattery of being mentioned positively or otherwise than nothing said at all. Or I could just ask, she said: “Are you a blog boy or not?”
Sigh.
No wonder one character in my novel-in-progress breaks up with her boyfriend after learning he’s been proto-blogging their relationship. It’s too freakin’ messed up!
Expect this blog to turn to less-specific philosophizing (and lots of spooning forks) should I ever break the few-dates dating streak and actually get something approaching a boyfriend (I mean, a Relationship). Of course, that would also require me finding a man who’s actually as serious about God as I am (gasp — sorry, but that’s the crux of this blog, when you really get down to it; that’s why I don’t get down to it, in fact ;)).
If one adopts the (probably fallacious) reasoning that what could be follows directly from what has been, clearly there’s no hope on the man-who-loves-Jesus score. But I won’t be buying cats anytime soon! There’s a reason I sold that soundtrack long ago. ;) Instead I think I’m going to brush up a line I vowed to implement next time I’m about among the madding Manhattanites:
Time to swap in Hank Mobley … Sorry it’s been a fork-less week, but somehow jazz-of-the-wordless-kind is harder to analyze. And it’s probably not popular enough to really influence our phi-love-sophy.
By-the-Buy
Media ♣
Song for My Father ♣ 
When Harry Met Sally
Far from the Madding Crowd
Soundtrack: Horace Silver’s Song for My Father.
Drink of choice: vodka & OJ — ghetto, I know, but watcha gonna do on an unemployment budget?
I suppose theoretically there could have been date #3 with the Funny Man this weekend, but he returns to school on Sunday, his week was crazy-busy, and I’m not sure what he wanted anyway. When I told a girlfriend about him last weekend, she asked, “Have you talked to your sister about him yet? I think you just want to be friends with him.”
Which is maybe what he wanted too. But somehow (more so outside Christian circles, perhaps) most men don’t seem to be interested in friendship with women unless the sexual tension has been addressed first (this, I suppose, can range from having a go at making out to having a go, full stop). Honestly, I can’t think of a single friendship with a guy that didn’t at some point involve one or the other of us flirting with at least the idea of attraction.
If the classic When Harry Met Sally dilemma weren’t enough, recently my friend the Ringleader also raised another conundrum: what do I do about dates now I’m writing the blog? Funny Man’s introduction to me basically was the blog. While he didn’t, like Covert Romantic, lead with a stated intention of “getting in my blog,” this soapbox did undoubtedly add complexity to the equation. As Curious Reader recently posed:
Does The Captain, etc., know about your blog? What about your girlfriends, sister, etc.? Just curious since people tend to act a little differently when they know they're being observed.Generally speaking, no, the men in my blog do not know they’re being observed, other than in the sense we all take note of each other’s actions and silently size up the people we’re just getting to know romantically (or otherwise). At any rate, much of the content is still historical, some going as far back as five years ago or more!
Hope things are going well for you,
-A Curious Reader
But … still. The blog problem. Does this just turn into some bizarre e-reality writing venture? In the interest of male egos (which I hear can be quite fragile), I have so far decided to take a cautious approach toward blogging those I know, and who know of the blog. Better to a) wait a long time until probably the guy’s stopped reading the blog anyway, or b) come up with general observations or musings based on the date, rather than giving the sort of blow-by-blow I’d offer gossip-hungry girlfriends. Who says my shtick always has to be colorful narrative? Besides, in story-telling mode I tend to run long-winded. I mean, really long-winded. It’s not for nothing high-school classmates used to time my answers in class. :-o
But I digress. (It’s this sort of tangent, you see, that adds such length to my stories.) So, the Ringleader proposes that possibly guys could feel hurt if I don’t mention them in my blog. Like, “It’s a blog about her love life, but she’s not writing about me, so I guess I’m not very important to her.”
But I said, It just seems so incestuous or something to immediately write up what I think of the guy. He wouldn’t know that normally, and probably he wouldn’t like to know every thought I had about him (would I want to know every thought he’s had about me?!!). I mean, even if the assessment’s not 100% positive, it’s not like I’m going to totally reject him. So there’s really no point in trotting out the little idiosyncrasies that may make for a better story, at the expense of ego.
The Ringleader still thinks a guy might rather have the flattery of being mentioned positively or otherwise than nothing said at all. Or I could just ask, she said: “Are you a blog boy or not?”
Sigh.
No wonder one character in my novel-in-progress breaks up with her boyfriend after learning he’s been proto-blogging their relationship. It’s too freakin’ messed up!
Expect this blog to turn to less-specific philosophizing (and lots of spooning forks) should I ever break the few-dates dating streak and actually get something approaching a boyfriend (I mean, a Relationship). Of course, that would also require me finding a man who’s actually as serious about God as I am (gasp — sorry, but that’s the crux of this blog, when you really get down to it; that’s why I don’t get down to it, in fact ;)).
If one adopts the (probably fallacious) reasoning that what could be follows directly from what has been, clearly there’s no hope on the man-who-loves-Jesus score. But I won’t be buying cats anytime soon! There’s a reason I sold that soundtrack long ago. ;) Instead I think I’m going to brush up a line I vowed to implement next time I’m about among the madding Manhattanites:
Guy: “So, can I have your number?”But don’t look for this to be renamed Spinster in the City anytime soon. For one, it’s just not quite as catchy, and also hope springs cursedly anew (I guess my Indian friend the other night would call that the persistence of biology.)
AB: “You know, I’ve enjoyed talking to you, and it would really be fun to hang out sometime, but experience teaches me it really won’t lead anywhere. So I’d just as soon leave it at this.”
Guy: “Don’t you think that’s kind of judgmental/cynical?”
AB: “Well, again, experience teaches me that generally when guys learn certain details about me, they’re not very interested in continuing the pursuit. So why waste either of our time?”
Guy: “What kinds of things? Are you wanted by the government? Do you have a kid?”
AB: “Haha, no. But you see, I’m actually one of those weirdos who loves Jesus.”
Guy: “That’s fine.”
AB:“Well ... I mean, he’s really my main man — at least, that’s what I’m aimin’ for. Most guys ... they don’t take so well to playing second fiddle; having a third ‘person’ in the relationship.”
(Guy begins to look alternately confused and concerned.)
Time to swap in Hank Mobley … Sorry it’s been a fork-less week, but somehow jazz-of-the-wordless-kind is harder to analyze. And it’s probably not popular enough to really influence our phi-love-sophy.
By-the-Buy
Media ♣
Far from the Madding Crowd
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