when a man loves a woman...

on the ride into work this morning, that song was playing on k-earth 101. not the michael bolton version. the authentic percy sledge version.

when a man loves a woman
spend his very last dime
tryin' to hold on to what he needs
he'd give up all his comfort
sleep out in the rain
if she said that's the way it ought to be

percy's unbridled emotion and heart-on-a-sleeve honesty was the perfect song to conclude a weekend that left me wondering, "when DOES a man love a woman?" and better yet, "when does a man love THIS woman?"

and i don't really mean love in its truest since. not how percy certainly meant it. not for the sake of this discussion. but love as in: when is a man really, really into his woman? when is the idea of spending his last dime, his last ounce of energy to be with her, not so far-fetched?

in my twisted world, i believe such sentiments should develop immediately...like gas. within a matter of weeks...who am i kidding...within a matter of DAYS, if you both parties are into each other, then yes, i believe a guy should be willing to do all he can to spend time with his lady. it's probably wrong, i know. the problem is 1) i'm a romantic; 2) i PERSONALLY would do anything i could to see a guy that i like; and 3) i'm swimming in couples for whom this is precisely the case.

you remember that show hart to hart? jonathan, the millionaire (which meant a hell of a lot more in '79 than it does today) and jennifer, his beautiful writer wife. they always got sucked into some investigation involving murder or thievery. they'd run around, dressed to the nines, waving silver plated pistols, escaping from their captors in zippy little two-seaters. and at the end of the day, they would snuggle in bed, tell each other how much they meant to the other, and the scene would fade on what was certainly about to be a night of sweet, sweet lovin'. you knew that the harts were in love. you wanted to be the harts (well, i did). i mean, any couple that could experience that much danger, excitement, adventure and still know that the only thing that truly mattered was their love for one another...that's an awesome couple. jonathan would do anything for his woman, and jennifer was down for her man without question.

now think about max, their butler/chauffeur. max had a front row seat to the hart show. he witnessed everything that went on between them--the good and the better. he knew how amazing their relationship was. in fact, he couldn't escape it. max might have had a lil' tenderoni on the side, but no relationship he was in compared to what the harts had. max (if he thought like a woman, which for the sake of this argument, he shall) would have second-guessed every relationship he was in because it was not like the harts. i, ladies and gentlemen, am max the butler/chauffeur.

lately, and this weekend once again, i found myself comparing my "relationship" to those of my friends. i happen to know a bunch of fucking prince charmings. i'm just not dating any of them. the men i know are totally into their women, and some have been dating for a lengthy bit of time (a few years) while others have not (a few months). regardless, their level of commitment, of total immersion into the relationship was immediate. they want to see their women all the time, talk to them all the time (that's if they're not living together, in which case, that's a given). they want to spend weekends and holidays with their women. they want to introduce them to their families and their friends. they want to celebrate accomplishments and sulk over disasters with them. they want them rain or shine. messy hair, yuck mouth, unshaved legs and all. i would say, they are consumed by their ladies in a way that falls short of annoying or obsessive, but is simply genuine.

so, if this is the paradigm i am most familiar with, how can i possibly think that my relationship, which is nothing like the aforementioned, is legit? or going anywhere? i see this guy twice a week (usually...), have yet to meet a local friend or relative and don't talk to him on the phone unless we're about to meet up (generally we just boy-talk). and i'm certainly not the person or place he seeks comfort in when things are awry. take this weekend for example. i figured we would see each other at some point, being that we last saw each other wednesday night/thursday morning and, as i said, we've been on a twice a week kick.

so i boy-talked him and asked when he'd like to get together. his reply was "soon." followed by 640 characters (or 4 texts) detailing what was going on with him...with a "how are you?" thrown in there. some of what he told me, i knew about. some i did not. selfishly, i didn't understand what anything had to do with his ability to see me. after all, shouldn't he want someone to cheer him up? to take his mind off things for a bit? but maybe i'm just projecting. maybe that's just what i would want. someone to hold my hand, rub my back and kiss me softly on the forehead, allowing me to forget, for a while, what it was that i was so worried about. or maybe i think that's the norm because that's what jonathan hart and my local prince charmings would want. so i wondered what it said about me, about us that he chose to keep his distance. and i let him. i told him that i was sorry and that i hope everything works out. i'm sure that somewhere in the world his behavior would be seen as normal behavior after three months, yes? not a reason to wonder or question or doubt. but again, my paradigm led me to doubt everything and to wonder why this hasn't happened or that hasn't happened and if i should be worried or just pack my bags. obviously, if he really liked me, i thought, he would have done all this stuff by now because that's what the other boys did...

but as a wise man resembling jesus said on saturday night, "all men are different." and i'm trying to remind myself of that...and include this man as someone who is not quite like the jonathan harts and other prince charmings out there. but lovely (and interested) in his own way. i try to remember the flowers he bought a couple of weeks ago (which are still alive), and the candy, and the taco he put in my fridge while i was at work. i remember that he boy-talked me as soon as he landed and makes the bed before he leaves my house. i remember that he didn't try to pressure me into sex even after two or three months and that he's cooked for me quite a few times. i try to focus on these things so that i don't feel like i am wasting my time if my relationship doesn't fit the mold i'm familiar with. so that i'm not so worried about why he hasn't asked me what my holiday plans are or introduced my to his brother. so i'm just going to relax and wait...and hopefully...maybe one day it will happen at the right time.

i am doing the smart thing, right L.A.?

well, ain't that a bitch?

i just found out that one of those guys i was dating with mild interest a year ago (in the hopes that continued dating might lead to sustainable interest...but did not) now has a girlfriend. i'm not mad about it or anything of the sort. he should have a girlfriend. he's smart, he's nice, he's successful, and maybe this new girl doesn't mind dating someone who has nothing to talk about...or maybe she doesn't have anything to talk about either. in any case, he's a good person, well-deserving of a lady. however, i couldn't help but think "ain't that a bitch?" when i heard about it because yet another male from my past has moved on and found a solid mate. and i tend to be the last stop before eternity-ville. so i guess my hang up is that i want it to be my turn. i want to be the one whose status is "in a relationship". i want to be the one whose exes are stalking her facebook page to see how attractive the "new guy" is. put me on the receiving end, please.

but i have no room for complaints right now. things are currently going well in the romance department. any guy who cooks salmon and asparagus for me while i watch the games on sunday is A-OK in my book. and then sits there and yells at the TV with me...ahh, now that's romance. he has been brimming with sweet gestures lately, so i am content. food and thoughtfulness are all you need to win me over. so i will count my blessings and say my thank yous this week. i will now officially unpack my luggage from my trip to Crazy Bitch City and relax...

i am currently sane, L.A.

i never said i wasn't a little crazy

so yes, i MAY have overreacted earlier this week. okay, scratch the "may have". however, i'm sure i would do it all over again, given the same circumstances, but i can admit, in hindsight, that i was a little hasty and irrational. of course, i'm only saying this because i got what i wanted...

my somewhat sassy text message about my late grandmothers' texting abilities garnered a response. it went something like: sorry. (insert joke about grandmas.) i had a shitty day after i landed. i'm over it now. when do you want to get together?

i decided to be direct in my reply: sorry you had a bad day. i hope today is better. considering i haven't seen you in 39 days, i can be free whenever. prioritizing is a specialty of mine.

and THAT got me the response i wanted, which was: how about tonight?

sooooo...i ended up seeing him on the second day, which isn't the first, but certainly isn't worth complaining about. afterall, i'm not his girlfriend... and the second day was the one i'd envisioned all along. ahh, The Secret, you tricky devil.

i must say that the evening was......deeeelightful. he had flowers for me. beautiful flloooowers. and candy (candy which referenced an inside joke of sorts...double points for that). i was very, very surprised. i haven't been given flowers by a guy since...high school, i think. and of course, i found some way to ruin the moment. he picked up the flowers and said, "these are for you." i said, "yeah, right. who are they really for?" why? because i really didn't think they could possibly be for me, and no way was i going to think they were only to have him be like "sike! hell naw, these ain't for you." but why would i even think something like that? that's a whole nother issue...

once i realized these nice things really were for me, i expressed my sincerest gratitude. i said something like, "thank you for my flowers. they are lovely." and i THINK he said something like, "not as lovely as you." i feel like that happened, but i could have been fading into sleepytown at that point.

so, we talked and played nintendo (including duck hunt and techmobowl) and eventually went to sleep. it was simple and fantastic. and i felt like he honestly did/does like me.

that's where it stands. i will try to maintain this level of calm in the weeks to come.
and to c. anthoney...i appreciate any cents, particularly when it comes from a male. so gratzi.

i am back from crazy town, L.A.

letter to the editor

dear MD,

okay lady friend....
i think you should cut bait with this dude... because you're waaaaay to sucked into him and he clearly is on a completely different plane of existence.
i'm sure that none of his actions were malicious or even thought out at all. in fact, i'd be willing to bet hes completely unaware.
but i dont think that time is going to heal these wounds... you're already so upset by him and you aren't even completely together yet.

i dunno... you're not crazy. i think you just reaaaaaaally want a relationship, and rightfully so. .. but this boy is not the one i don't think.
you need someone attentive and hes clearly on another planet.

thats just my two cents.

dear reader,

sadly...maybe you are right...

letter to the editor

dear MD,

first, let me reply by saying where in the hell did you go where a wax requires you to be on all fours??? I think you got bamboozled on that one and some chick just liked looking at that angle of you. Of course I would know, I've been to several different locations and never would I have hopped off of a table to do that. Furthermore, I think you should chill the fuck out! I understand the emotions and all but damn! I read this and thought I might have seen horns coming out of your head! LOL. He will call...you will hang out...and feel better in the end. Just focus on that day :)

dear reader,

first, let ME reply by saying that since you are related to me, i will excuse your snappiness. secondly, i can't "chill out". if i could, there would be no blog. furthermore, i've already sabotaged myself (something i'm good at). i sent him a text right before i went to bed saying, "dude. your text message response time is worse than my grandmas'. and they're both dead." i'm now waiting to see how that one goes over.

ps. the horns imagery was appropriate. as i said, i've been watching a lot of true blood season 2.

i wish i was asexual

i was about to title this "i wish i was a lesbian", but i'm pretty sure i would be having the same problems i'm having now only with women, and that may very well be worse than having problems with men. so i'll stick with, "i wish i was asexual", so i wouldn't have to deal with either. and if i can't be asexual, then i wish i'd grown up surrounded by male figures who bestowed in me the male love and "fuck you very much" mentality that i so desperately need and so inherently lack. but alas, i am neither asexual nor built on a foundation of male love. if i was either of those, i would not be so pissed off that that boy has been back in this city for nearly 12 hours and he has made no arrangements to see me. motherfucker.
let me start from the beginning.

so today was the day. today was the day that he was set to return after his month long, godforsaken hiatus. today. 1 month and 4 days since he was last here. 1 month and 7 days since the last time i'd seen him. needless to say, i'd been eagerly anticipating this day, as only a naive bitch could. we boy-talked briefly on sunday (boy-talk is my new term for text messaging) about football. i took his boy-talking as a good sign..."ah, yes. he's about to come back. he's reaching out, communicating, getting back in the swing of things. well done, boy. well done." monday passed, and tuesday came, and i was...not ecstatic, but i was genuinely relieved and happy that the day had finally arrived. NOT that i expected to see him today, but at least, i thought, he will be in the same city and my wait will (just about) be over.

a little before 2 this afternoon, i received a text message from him. another good sign, i thought. he's arrived, AND he's letting me know that he's here...AND making arrangements to see me...i hope. the message read:

I'm baaaaack in l.a. Going to stay at my brother's for a few days while he is out of town and i look for a new joint...come on over one of these nights!

now, in theory, i should have been happy about this right? the part of me that reads about boys and their behavior insists that i should have been content with this outreach. but i wasn't. i found something horribly wrong with it. "come on over one of these nights"? "come on over
one of these nights"? what the fuck is that? i'm not trying to install your goddamn bootleg cable or play gin rummy asshole. or see your new fucking kitty cat. i'm trying to catch up on some of that quality time that i've lacked for the past 38 (and counting) days. the same quality time that YOU should have been missing too. "come on over one of these nights" is not a plan. it is some casual bullshit that suggests nonchalance. so as this anger started to bubble up on my insides, the rational side of me (the same one that reads about boys) wanted to know WHY i was so mad.

"why?" that bitch demanded. "why are you mad now? the boy contacted you when he arrived. it's not like he waited a day or two. he invited you to come over (in a general sense). he put an exclamation point at the end of his boy-talk. what the fuck do you want, snatch?"
truth be told, i wanted him to be eager and excited. i wanted him to excited to see me. i wanted him to be as eager to see me as he would be for a free sample of pussy-flavored lollipops. i wanted some goddmamn enthusiasm. i wanted it...and simultaneously knew i wouldn't get it and should never expect it. and maybe...maybe this is his version of enthusiasm. maybe...i told myself. and i was actually sort of willing to run with that idea...NINE HOURS AGO.

17 minutes after he sent his message, i responded with:
Oh, fiiiiiinally. Well, if you are inviting me then i guess you can let me know a day. As long as your brother wont mind.

NINE HOURS ago i said that. NINE HOURS AGO. and he has said what? nothing. now, looka-here. your ass ain't working. you JUST got back in town, so i know you ain't got a bunch of shit to do. you can only look at apartments during the daylight hours, so what THE FUCK are you doing? oh, oh, ohhhh. i get it. oh, you want to do that shit where you pretend that you're not that eager. oh, okay. i get it. OR BETTER YET, maybe you really aren't that interested. fine. either way, you can fuck yourself with that.

god, i sound so evil right now. and i'm sorry. i think it's because i've been watching all these women with claws and fangs fuck people up in my true blood marathon, and i'm experiencing a little life-imitating-art here. anyway, i'm just frustrated. i sort of feel foolish -- for being pissed that he hasn't made a plan but also for waiting all this time and wanting the reunion to be a gloriously anticipated, fantastically realized one for both of us. i wanted it to be more like the NKOTB reunion, not like the NEW EDITION reunion where bobby brown didn't even show up because he was in jail or on crack or just didn't give a shit. furthermore, i feel foolish because earlier this evening i was on all fours in front of this woman with my drawz off, getting hot wax spread down the crack of my ass and then SNATCHED off for the back-half of a brazilian. motherfucker, do you think i did that shit so i could sit on my baby smooth ass WAITING on you to get your shit together? NO! furthermore, the hair on my legs (also waxed) is going to start growing back any moment now, so you are my WASTING TIME AND MY MONEY!!!! fuck.

i know one thing. shit like this will NOT get you laid. so he can forget that. that is if we ever see each other. i'm guessing we will, but if he lets enough time go by, i'm going to be so pissed that i will undoubtedly have a stank attitude and say some shit that they boy books tell you you should never say and then he'll run the other way and the whole shit will be ruined.
i'm over this whole game bullshit. and if it's not a game, then he's just being dumb, and he should know that. i will say that i do feel better having gotten this all out...

IN CONCLUSION, this day that was supposed to be met with great joy and anticipation has actually stung...both emotionally and physically.

i am going to wash the wax remnants off my legs and ass, L.A.

but wait, there’s more

after my post yesterday, my friend and i went downtown to an alumni event for a very yuppie, east coast university we both attended. i was swimming in men wearing dockers and button-downs with Mai Tais in their hands. fortunately, i hadn’t banked on their being hot, eligible men there, but it was still disappointing nonetheless that there really weren’t any (save for one or two who could have been if i really needed them to be). i was in the midst of idle chatter with people i didn’t know when my phone rang. i looked at it, didn’t recognize the out-of-state number and figured it was (again) one of those crazy solicitors i get who call me from random states (to throw me off their scent, i suppose). so i answered and immediately hung up because i didn’t even want to bother having a voicemail from them.

but then…it hit me. missouri? wait. i know someone who is in missouri…could it be? did he just call me? maybe? holy shit. and i hung up on him! i excused myself and hurried outside where i would actually be able to hear. i redialed the number only to be greeted with a message from sprint about how they were “redirecting my call to customer service.” i hung up and tried again. again with the customer service shit. gotdamnit, sprint. i know there’s probably a bill due, and you want your money, but this shit is important. furthermore, i’m still on the family plan, so you need to direct your billing inquiries and scare tactics to my mom…that’s right, my mom.

i ran back inside, asked my friend for her phone and tried again, hoping that the jersey number that was about to appear on his caller id wouldn’t prevent him from answering. if it was in fact him…it totally just could have been the wrong number…
a woman answered. damn.

“hello?”
“hi. did someone just call me?”
“who is this?” (said in a tone that read, “skank, why are you calling my house? i will cut you.” personally, i hate when people call and ask “did someone just call me?”. obviously, if you don’t know the number and they didn’t leave a message, it was the wrong number or it wasn’t that important. however, in this situation, it WAS that important.)
i gave her my name in my most pleasant voice. after all, if this DID turn out to be his mother, i didn’t want to start out with her hating me. though, i had the feeling she already did. i checked the time and added two hours. it wasn’t THAT late. but maybe she goes to bed super early, i thought, and i just woke her up. i felt very high school and feared i was about to get in trouble. there was a dropping of the phone, some rustling, indecipherable speech, a clicking of lines…all the while, i’m just waiting for her to come back and declare, “hell no, nobody called you. and do you know what time it is, young lady?”

but that didn’t happen. instead, the boy appeared on the other end. like magic. and i was delighted. and we TALKED. i did do the right thing by mentioning that i was at an event downtown (you know the whole “sound busy” thing that everyone tells you to do), but then i stood on the sidewalk for the next half an hour and talked to him so clearly i wasn’t that damn busy. we talked about him, we talked about me, about fantasy football, and the weather, and food, and animals…

i can safely say, with no neuroses and no second guesses, that this conversation was normal. deliciously normal and fun, and i feel, truly feel, that everything might actually be okay. i know exactly when he’s returning, he mentioned seeing my new place and making dinner, blah blah…so everything really, really might be fine. and i might not have to be a spaz anymore (notice i inserted might into all these statements). but honestly, for the first time in a month, i feel like i can exhale and nothing is going to fall apart.

i am thankful for small miracles, L.A.