Why are men are always baffled by our mood shifts? Do they think they are EVA the cause? I mean how often do we get "shifty" with our girlfriends?
Like never.
Personally I guess the lethal combination of PMS, no chocolate in the house, and forging for clients during the worst economic depression since men wore hats, sends my emotions on spin cycle. But add my boyfriends "schedule" changes (after the fact) and you get a really upset girl.
As he says .. "I always get in trouble if I don't follow protocol."
Yep, that's pretty much it. Stick to the plan and follow all the rules.
For example, holidays, anniversary's and birthdays. All women LOVE gift giving holidays (and if they say they don't they are lying beyatches to fiend disappointment) we all sorta expect something ( card, dinner reservations, .....OK,diamonds?) and to top it all off, what they DON'T know is that we see the timing and selection of gifts as a secret message.
Yes, secret messages. For example, a poorly chosen gift, (Costco membership, a spatula, ant killer, Dust Buster, slippers or a blender) is just plain bad juju. Personally I drop hints 17 weeks before any gift-giving holiday and wonder if he gets it.( Linda got a Coach purse from Andy and a surprise trip to 5 European countries......) I think all men should wear a wire so they can review these suggestions later and start saving and planning. ( Disclaimer: In that department I have seen vintage jewelry, Star Gazer Lillys, and stained glass windows appear that I had drooled over months earlier.)
Reading into gifts is an art. For example, if a guy gives me a cappuccino maker for two. I immediately would read into it as... "He wants to marry me because this is for two people and we will be living together. Oh and maybe there is a ring tucked inside the grinder thingy." (until I remember he hates cappuccino and rings...)
Reality man translation: "now I don't have to wait in the Starbucks parking lot on weekends so you can run in and spend $3.95 with my debit card."
Hypathetically, if a guy buys me an iron. Our interpretation is that he is clearly wanting to save dry cleaning money, and I am now expected to iron his crinkled shirts that he insists on blasting in the dryer in the same load as the mop head and dog bed cover.
Like no.
Men need to understand that this dance began ages ago and is timeless. I read this next example in a fantastically funny book my BF bought me called (of all things) A Practical Handbook To The Boyfriend. Think of the first boyfriend, Adam. You think he wasn't baffled by his girlfriend? You bet he was. Now, there's a guy who could have used a manual, a girlfriend road map and a GPS. You may not think he needed it, after all, he was alone in paradise, had some snacks, and Eve was already naked.
But I beg to differ.
Their problems weren't over money, getting out of dinner with her parents, or his addiction to online poker or America's Funniest Videos. No, their issues revolved around a small piece of red fruit.
God said, "Don't eat it." Eve said, "If you love me you'll bite!!" The poor guy had God on one side and Eve on the other; talk about a rock and a hard place. Adam tried to reason with his girl, warning her of the dangers of breaking the one rule God had made, but she wouldn't listen. From her point of view it wasn't about the apple or God (she wasn't hungry and had never even met this God guy..) it was about whether her boyfriend took her seriously and understood her feelings.
Sound familiar?
But maybe Adam was just a regular guy, trying to toe the line with The Man while trying to keep his HM girlfriend happy. It couldn't have been easy. We girlfriends can be a lot to handle yes, we demand consistent intimacy, and special day remembrances. We ask a lot of questions: "What are you thinking about?" "Do you love me the same now or more then before?" "What's wrong today?.... you sound funny." "Are you mad at me because you haven't called me for 36.2 hours but you have watched 12 TV shows." or "Am I fat to you?.... like more then last summer or do I look the same or thinner?" and my personal fav's... "Were there any hot girls at that conference in Sweden? Did anyone hit on you? Did you do your hair with product, or is that just for me? Are you in that dark suit? Which tie?.... not the red one right, because you look so hot in the red one..."
And the transitions are murder. One minute we're lying around happy and naked (think Eve), and the next minute we're dressed to kill, goose-stepping all over your heart (think Eva Braun) being cold and purposely not answering your calls. (This never lasts, we call back in 10 minutes and claim we were vacuuming. Not.)
We girls are easy with a few rules. Make us feel like a princess ALL the time. Don't yell at us and make us cry, put our relationship first, (at least sometimes) stick to your word, buy the cards, touch our hair, tell us we smell good,and that we don't have back fat.
....Just follow protocol.
He's right :)
Girl Interrupted
After a morning of the typical Saturday grind of laundry, sheets, toilets and floors, feeling a little frumpy and overwhelmed, I decided to take a break and go shopping, something I seldom do. The hours of writing and running are taking their toll this week.
I take an extra long hot shower, shave my legs, sport my best bra and panties, slather on my favorite body lotion from head to toe, throw on my new tall leather boots and jeans that I have never put on beyond a dressing room weeks ago. Next, my lucky Banana Republic jacket and scarf. I take extra time with my make-up, hair and say "what the hell" out loud while painting on a rare set of crimson red lips.
I grabbed my sunglasses and took off in my car with Nora Jones "Turn Me On" cranked on the CD player.
Once in the mall, I return some shoes, stroll through some shops and buy myself a "Starbies" when I feel a slight touch on my arm which startles me. Looking up I stare into the clear blue eyes of a very old man.
"Are you Miss America he asks"? smiling....
"What"? I asked confused..
"Are you Miss America...because if you aren't you should be. I watched you walk through here glowing like a shining star...your beautiful young lady..absolutely stunning shining like that..."
He stood smiling. From ear to ear in the sweetest most genuine way.
"Are you married? Or just happy"? He asked with a wink.
Before I could answer, he put a knobby finger gently on my lips and said "Shhhh don't answer...because whatever fellow is lucky enough to have your heart, has a lucky horse shoe in his back pocket....."
He picked up my hand, kissed it and walked away. When I turned to say thank you he was gone.
I don't know why it hit me, one simple comment from a stranger, but I cried in my car because it touched me so. This man wasn't hitting on me, had no ulterior motive, wasn't buying me a drink to pick me up, hell he didn't even have a bad combover.
He just said it because he had to.
No strings attached, no expectations. He said I was pretty because he thought so. He owed me nothing and could have just walked on by never saying a word.
I imagined him as a young man sliding a tiny silver box across the table of a beautiful woman, smiling... telling her how beautiful she was tonight in the glow of holiday lights.
He tells her because he had to.
I imagine him as my own father as a young man, throwing me in the air while I squeal with laughter hugging his neck. He smiles at me and brushes a blonde lock of hair away from my eyes and says "your beautiful..."
The power of a strangers words made me remember that chivalry is not dead.
He is at the mall in a red shirt, smiling simply because he has to.
