When many women get together we talk about men, mainly how much men make us crazy. I’m sure the subject of kids, mean bosses, money woes, hair, problem periods and how much ‘unhappy’ weight our friend, Anna Lee has gained might creep in, but chances are, the conversation will begin and more than likely, will end with the fact that men make us crazy.
Now, why is that? And I’m not talking about the fact that we’re even talking about all this imposed lunacy, but that we actually feel we’re made total loons by dangly examples of male genetic coding. And why is this the subject of endless conversation?
While the Penis People perplex me, I’m also baffled by the things women suggest to other women to secure that elusive relationship.
CASE IN POINT: I was involved in a conversation recently where one women (in a fairly new relationship) was told that when HE calls, she should only occasionally answer her phone. In other words, don’t be there when He calls, even if she’s holding the damn phone in her hand. “Don’t be too available”, this one woman insists.
There’s a limit on the number of times a woman should answer her phone? Did I miss something somewhere? Was this mandate a part of the Helsinki Accords and I didn’t know it? The couple in question is mature; comprised of two people in their mid-50’s who’ve both been married before. Is this mind game of answer/don’t answer really relevant? And at their age, could NOT answering actually deal a more fatal blow to the relationship than answering it???? This was offered up as advice, as was acting cavalier; that she should send herself a bouquet of flowers, and pretend she had places to go and God knows what else.
Then, the woman in this now three month old relationship then asked if there were subtle cues that might indicate he really cares for her and that he is slowly but surely investing time and emotion in the relationship. She looked at me; I shook my head in the negative and made a slight sweeping gesture to a mutual friend sitting beside me. Ask her; not me. I am the WORST person to ask.
Here’s what she allowed: they’re in the midst of a long distance relationship that now in it’s third month. He is an attorney by trade but is a musician on the side. She told us that he sometime calls her to serenade her with a song. He plays the guitar and sometimes, he plays it for her.
We all went very chickish on that one; we all “awe’d” at the same time.
Sometimes, he even sings for her; just her…on the phone.
Again with the awes.
But wait…there’s more.
He recently changed his cell phone/long distance provider to hers so they could talk as long as they wanted. Love among the “Anytime Minutes”; it is indeed fiber awe-ptics.
At a restaurant he knew she’d be frequenting, he once called ahead and ordered her favorite bottle of wine be brought to her table. He timed it just right; the bottle arrived as he was boarding a plane to fly out of state to attend a legal conference.
He calls her in the morning to help her greet the day and then will call to say goodnight before she goes to bed.
He sends her beautiful Sterling roses, for no reason at all.
He calls to tell her about a beautiful sunset that hes’looking at from his West Texas vantage point or a strange cloud formation that made him laugh because it looks a lot like Ed Asner.
He learns to play the songs she likes and even calls her in the middle of a “gig” to allow her the chance to hear the song being performed. Her song. It makes her cry she says and she can’t help but feel this incredible warmth embrace her heart and soul.
He’s starting to use the Magic Pronouns on his own–and unprompted: we, ours and us.
And every once in a while, he calls her ‘Baby’…and yes, it’s in that way.
Now, I know how women are and we can be bitches. We know DAMN good and well that the men in our lives are in fact, the men in our lives, but we like to rub that point in. We know that they love us, but we want our girlfriends to know they love us, so we feign that we are clueless as to their real feelings. We tell anyone who’ll listen that these are his gestures, but what…WHAT do they mean???
We want to hear our friends tell us we’re lucky; that we’ve found our Prince Charming; the one that will always stay a prince and never morph into a frog even after repeated kissing.
Was this what that woman with her attorney/guitar player was doing? Maybe, but what the hell. I’ll indulge her. I think I’ll call her later to tell her that even though I have ruined more relationships than Herpes, it sounds to me that based on his actions, this man likes her—a lot—but I don’t for one minute think answering his phone calls or not will make a difference one way or the other.
I’ll also hammer home the point that as far as I can tell, love is something one ‘senses’.
I would tell her that I believe there are times when “I love you” sounds like music.
That it sometimes feels like incredible, all encompassing warmth.
That it often tastes like your favorite wine and smells like roses.
And that there are those times, when love looks like a beautiful West Texas sunset….or Ed Asner in a white, gaseous state hovering at about 6,500 feet in the sky.