A practical debate
18 February 2009
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: boundaries, home, love, marriage, realistic, trust
Now that you are privy to my inner-most feelings for Jon, I have to admit that the practical side of me is just itching to cause some kind of conflict.
It began to gather troops when he said, “When we live in the same city, would we be living together or separately?”
My immediate answer was separately. His was the opposite.
My live-in rule is simple: I’d like to live by myself at some point, and I will only live with a man I’m dating if we both intend to marry each other.
Of course it would be great to see him every day, snuggle up next to him as I fall asleep, go grocery shopping and pet hunting together.
But it’s a bit of a drastic step to go from seeing each other on weekends to living with each other. And all those statistics about how most people who live together don’t end up marrying…well that’s a downer.
Then again, how many people who date in general end up marrying each other? How many people last through a long-distance relationship? The rent would be cheaper, especially in either of our high cost-of-living cities. And it would be nice to come home to someone I cared about, as opposed to two strangers I happen to live with.
So you can see how my practicalities are arguing with my sensibilities (in the olde sense of the word). In the end, I think it all comes down to one question.
If we were to live together, do I lose my bargaining tool for marriage?
A fair, practical question. But then again, do I need a bargaining tool? I’m 100 percent sure he wants to marry me and intends to propose at some point down the line. And I’m 100 percent sure that I intend to say yes when he does.
I think I just agreed with idea of living together. Please tell me I’m not crazy.
A Woman Distracted
4 February 2009
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: feminism, love, Mr. Right, realistic, relationships, trust, work, writing
“If you don’t have anything bad to say about a relationship, you shouldn’t say anything at all.”
- George on Seinfeld
OK, so that’s only part of the reason I haven’t been updating this blog. Because who wants to read about how nervous I was to say I love you, and then overjoyed when he said it back? Or how excited I am about the Valentines Day gift that I bought him?
But aside from my lovely distraction, who unfortunately lives in Boston, I have been absorbed in other things lately, and these things I’m going to share.
1. I’m writing. Well obviously, you’re thinking. But really, I submitted an essay to Skirt! magazine and I plan to submit at least one piece each month. Essays, memoirs, short stories, who knows — You might read a novel of mine someday. It all has to start somewhere.
(http://www.skirt.com/ “Women’s online resource for opinion, poetry, fashion, resources, fun and irreverence.”)
2. I’m reading. Did you know that there are magazines out there for young women whose cover stories have nothing to do with how to please your man or how much weight Jessica Simpson has gained? Check these out ladies:
My new favorite magazines: Bust, Pink, and a couple writers mags
BUST – “For women with something to get off their chests” I picked up thismagazine thinking that it would cater to extreme fringe feminists who are on the brink of rejecting gender altogether (From an outside standpoint, I admire those women, but if this mag was targeted at them, I wouldn’t fit the audience.)
Instead, I found trendy craft and fashion ideas, a news piece on why women are paying more for health care, feature stories on Cowgirls — the first American feminists, and great reviews on newly released CDs and books. Basically, your typical women’s mag without all the stories that make you feel like crap. And do you honestly need to read another article about 69 ways to make your man gasp in bed? Although BUST does have a One-Handed Read in the back, a nice touch to complete the frank and honest publication.
PINK - “a beautiful career, a beautiful life” is a business mag for women with style. With articles on how to handle your hefty bank account when you get married, how to get the most out of your heels without killing your feet, and a feature on the similarities between online job hunting and online dating for those women who are feeling a little out of touch with their flirtatious bar-crawling days.
This one is heading in the right direction, but it’s small. And by that I mean thin. The story ideas are huge — my fav was the highlight on the 13 women who are leading countries right now. And despite the stories on shoes, the suggested designer bags for laptops and the pink font everywhere, PINK keeps a business voice. It’s a nice blend of serious talk with a fun attitude.
3. I’m planning. I’ve got a file cabinet now and I’m trying to decide what should go in it besides my W-2 form. If I keep reading and writing, I might be able to actually put it to use. So, off I go to write something brilliant. I’ve got to be fast tonight because that boy I mentioned will call in about an hour…
p.s. I’m not sharing him
I lost before the game began
11 January 2008
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: dating, kiss, realistic, waiting game
I played this game in sixth grade after I slowdanced with Matt to LeAnn Rimes’ “How do I live.” I played again in eighth grade after I had a friend of mine call Ryan, asking him if he liked me. And I continued to play in high school as I strategically left class at the same time as Chris in the direction of my locker.
I think I’ve lost the waiting game every time I’ve played it. Yet here I go, playing it again.
I throw out hints, sometimes tragically blatant hints, and then I sit around and wait for the boy to respond.
Almost two weeks later, I’m making up excuses for him…he’s been working every night, he went out of town for a day, he has bronchitis… In my warped and biased mind, all of these sound like perfectly viable reasons why he hasn’t called or responded to my message.
Except that I’ve played this game before. Technically I still have a piece on the checkerboard, but it might as well be backed into a corner. I can move back and forth between his excuses and my possible mistakes, but I’m not going anywhere.
But I pine over the way he pulled me in, wrapped his arm around my neck, the taste of his lips; I ponder over each dance step, each grin, each subtle joke followed by laughter, and wonder why I’m playing this game.
Certainly if he was there with me on that night he would respond to my hints as quickly as I responded to his dance steps.
I think back on the waiting games I’ve played in the past, and I know that I’ll lose this one too. That’s the thing about the waiting game; if you’re waiting, you’ve already lost.
