In which we shall see: a TMI non sequitur, a couple of dating theories, imaginary dialogue, and a wiggins. Oh, and Happy Fourth-of-July Eve! (Otherwise known as July 3rd.)
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Have you ever had a patch of skin that you could actually FEEL drying up and peeling off? Mine's on the back of my neck from a pretty intense sunburn I got a week ago (damn that new haircut, anyway) and it is making me CRAZY. I will probably have to stop typing every few minutes to see, once again, if I can possibly contort myself in some different way to be able to get at the scaly lizard hide just below my hairline. Did you know you can't see the back of your neck, and that even with three-way mirrors it is BEYOND frustrating to try to get to it? It's a lot like trying to lick your elbow. Go ahead, try it.
This has absolutely nothing to to with today's post. I just wondered.
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A few years ago (and when I was 17, and last week) my mother gave me this advice: "You know, you really should play hard to get." My stock response: "Phbbblgttt." I've been hearing this for years, and it just doesn't sink in - I don't play. I'm not hard to get. If I like a guy and he likes me, I'm all for going out and doing something about it, not lurking coyly and pretending to be all mysterious and lofty and otherwise occupied.
However - if my mother, who has a degree in Childhood Development, had ever bothered to tell me HOW and WHY to "play hard to get", I might have listened and done something about it. Here's the thing: I cannot seem to get away from guys who will say one thing, and then immediately forget those words ever left their mouths, like, "We really should go play raquetball sometime!" or "When can I take you out to dinner?" I've learned, for the most part, to let those kinds of remarks slide and fade away as though they really do have no more substance than the air that carries them, because no matter how positively I respond (although not over-enthusiastically, since that evidently reads as "desperate") the invitation just never morphs into an actual event. I don't know why this is, but I finally have a theory.
I blame my mother.
If she had told me years ago that I had to apply Childhood Development principles as well as "playing hard to get" to my dealings with males, my entire dating "history" (hah) could have been radically different. You know how when talking to small children, in general you will be required to repeat yourself at least three times? I figure that this has to do with the short attention span, and with the lack of impulse control - if something is confirmed to a child often enough it becomes an actuality, not just a passing whim or unconnected thought. Go with me on this: "Playing Hard to Get" + Child's Rule of 3 might look something like...
Him: "When can I take you out to dinner?"
Me: "Well, let me see... I don't know... You want to..."
Him: "Take you out, yes. If you want to go, I mean."
Me: "Oh, well, sure, I'd like to, but I'm really busy... Dinner, huh?"
Him: "Yeah. Dinner. Or a movie. Or something."
Me: "Did you have a particular day in mind? For this dinner?"
Him: "How about next Friday?"
(*
cue Me hemming and hawing and mentally double-checking the date, and getting him to set up not only a day, but also the time*)
So, theoretically, if I make a guy confirm an invitation at least three times, then he might get around to setting a date. And if he sets a date (not me) then he feels like he's in charge and will actually follow through. If I just say "Sure. Next week? Call me" then I am too easily pleased and not worth the effort it will take him to follow up. If I make him pull an acceptance out of me, however, I become worth his time AND he will remember he issued the invitation because he repeated it several times. I wonder if schools could start offering combined Childhood Development/Dating classes: "Get your man and practice your parenting skills at the same time!" Seems like a solid idea.
Honestly, though, this whole theory gives me the creeps. I was hoping I could talk myself into trying it out the next time a guy makes a suggestion, but... no. I'd still rather devote my energy to the conversation or the activity or a good book - it just seems like such a waste of time. I apparently still have a little spark of cock-eyed optimism down deep inside that there are men (a man?) out there who do not need me to treat them like five-year-olds, guys who say things because they mean them and will do something about them. There's got to be a different/better way out there - I think I'll just keep looking for that, instead. (Sorry, Mom.)
In the meantime, I've got to go peel my neck.
Watch out for falling turtles (and amateur psychology),
Cyd
