Plan B: Forget Plan A?
As I embark on the third month of my “If you build it, He will come” year, I have to take a moment to reflect on last month’s progress. Gotta say, compared to January, February was more than a little painful. In fact, I think I have a few battle wounds.
It started out fine; I began the month with three seemingly great men interested in me – and I was actually interested in them. They were courting me – I thought I was onto something. Was I finally getting it right? A natural progression happened, the one I was least interested in fell off the map and honestly, that was okay. Valentine’s Day came and went; I came out relatively unscathed, and even got a card. I know, I know – we’ve discussed this.
But then the “Dear [She Said]” text happened and for the second half of the month, it was all downhill from there. It was as if the clock had struck midnight and I was left standing in rags with my broken-down pumpkin and not a glass slipper in sight. There wasn’t even the token field mouse to stand and shrug his shoulders as if to sigh and say, “Oh well.” But, I guess that’s why God invented fairy tales. Er, I mean, Disney.
Things started looking up briefly when I met a tall drink of water out with his brothers for a birthday celebration. It was as if I had hit a 3 pointer with my eyes closed and the game went into overtime. A few nights later we went out, all five foot-three of me, and six foot-five of him. He had brains, he had looks, he had manners, a dry sense of humor – and we didn’t meet on the internet. I was overjoyed. And then: “Dear [She Said], I really enjoyed talking with you the other night… You are very cool, very hip, and very smart, yet modest at the same time. But to be honest, I’m not sure we have any real sexual chemistry. I just don’t feel the attraction. Please don’t take that as a slight in any way. I think you’re great and would love to be friends with you, but I’d understand if you’re not into that. I hope to talk to you soon, Best, [Tall Drink of Water].” Seriously, why is it that no one can pick up the phone? Or, how about just saying NOTHING at all? For someone who has a love affair with the written word, I have to admit that I’m definitely not digging all the rejection in print these days.
Okay, let’s move on to the other fallout from my new position as CEO of my global dating empire: My friends are pissed. It would seem that my attempts to be mated have disrupted their scheduling of having me to themselves at any given moment. See, here’s the thing… The ones who are complaining? Not the ones who are single. The single ones know the code: Penis has priority. They accept the code – because they too live by the code. I know I haven’t been as available. I know I have been swimming in the deep end for 60 straight days. But is it time to get out yet? I’m not sure. Part of me is getting weary. Part of me doesn’t know how much longer I can keep my head above water. I can only cover my bruises for so long before they start to show. Maybe I need to get out for a bit and spend time with my friends. Then I can always jump back in.
Or maybe I should stay in just a little longer…
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One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
Obviously you’ve never heard the old joke. Hard to believe, since I’ve been beating it to death since I was old enough to tell the difference between bad luck and no luck, but it goes something like this: “How do you make God laugh? Have a plan.”
I have no idea who invented these fairy tales that define the hopes and dreams of women everywhere. Maybe it was God, maybe it was Disney or maybe it was some short, bald guy with a really twisted sense of humor, but I’m afraid the joke is on you and your fellow females. There is no “plan” that will make romance happen. There is no “approach” that will bring the right guy to your door. As important as love is, it’s equally as random, internet dating and Grandma’s neighbor’s great-nephew notwithstanding. The thing is, you know this. You’ve always been one of the smart ones. So let’s get past all of this depressing fact and revisit the fantasy that causes bright, attractive women like you to even consider a game plan for meeting men to begin with.
Okay let’s evaluate your progress (?) so far, from my courtside seat. Let’s start with the texting. With all due respect to the fact that I could be labeled a pure dinosaur by asking, but is texting not one of the lamest forms of communication to come along since smoke signals? Especially when it comes to men. Breaking up with a woman via text is incredibly weak, but saying anythingvia text beyond, “Be there in ten minutes,” is equally as weak in my book. I get it – the year is 2010 and that’s how we roll these days. But I still say that a man who relies upon text to work his way into or out of a woman’s heart/pants is one giant pussy. Women are just as guilty, but for some reason, that doesn’t bother me nearly as much. My last girlfriend texted me to death, and I hated it – about 10% of the time. The other 90%, I loved it. So do us both a favor… The next time a guy asks you out, or in or all about via text, reach back to your blog of a few weeks ago, and just say no.
Now let’s skip to your friends – uh, they are friends, aren’t they? Friends can be funny sometimes. They are your biggest fans, as long as you remain in the exact box they picked out for you when you first met. Guess what? You just traded in the “always there for you” friend box for the “always there for you, but I have my own life, too,” box. Married people like having single friends. It enables a tiny part of each of them to always remain single; while also reassuring themselves that they made the right decision so many moons – and kids ago. I ask the same question I always ask about married people: How many of the married people you know would you trade places with? Exactly.
One step forward and two steps back… Not the greatest long-term plan, be it investing or dating, but it seems a little too early to scrap your 2010 approach just yet. It’s been a long, cold winter. Let’s clean the slate and look forward to spring.
