Counterpoint: Don't Tell Me You Love Me -- Show Me.

I know that when we all think of The Grand Gesture, we're met with various Hollywood images that have been imprinted in our brains over the years -- since adolescence, we've thought about Lloyd Dobler holding up the In Your Eyes boombox; Richard Gere in his white limo, posing as the White Knight that "rescues" Julia Roberts*, or most recently, Mr. Big hopping a flight to Paris to rescue Carrie from a life with that Russian assclown artist.

It typically goes like this:

Step 1: Introduce male and female leads

Step 2: Outline problem that needs solving (usually, singledom coupled with a sad state of affairs, be it hookerdom, nerddom, or a sub-par relationship)
Step 3: "Meet Cute"
Step 4: Fallout
Step 5: The Grand Gesture
Step 6: Happily Ever After

The Grand Gesture has been around for AGES -- dating all the way back to Shakespeare, or some would argue the crucifixion**. A quick consult to my Handbook of Literature talks about The Grand Style, "a concept traceable back as far as classical antiquity . . . involving a host of lofty elements: nobility of character, sublimity of conception, dignified simplicity or severity of utterance, and grandeur of scope***."

My oh my... how this concept has changed over the years! Because these days? Rarely is it about "nobility of character" or "sublimity of conception," but more like this:

"WOW -- I just woke up from whatever dreamworld I was living in and realized that (Vivian Ward, Diane Court, Carrie Bradshaw) is pretty frickin' awesome -- and PROBABLY the best thing that will ever happen to me. I also realized that when I (called her a hooker in public, ditched her to marry a stick figure with no soul after jerking her around for four years), I was a MAJOR douchebag, yet I don't have the balls to simply admit I was wrong and TALK about it, so I think I'll (show up in a limo, get out the boombox****, fly to Paris), and knock her socks off and win her back! BRILLIANT."

Guys, here's the deal - if you don't act like an ass, The Grand Gesture isn't necessary. Sure, like any girl, I like flowers and romance and the little things you do to make me know I'm special to you; the things that set me apart from A Girl Friend as opposed to a girlfriend. I love the picnic in the park with wine and the iPod, not because it's SOOOOO ROMANTIC, but because it tells me that you took the time to think of something special, albeit simple, where we're spending time alone, talking, with no distractions. I don't need you to make it grand with a string quartet and and catered food... that's not what hooks most women. Similarly, I don't need a dozen roses on Valentine's Day to make up for the 20 times you've fallen short in our relationship -- nothing makes up for the idea of being there, patiently and consistently, even when it's not convenient. As somebody very wise once told me, "When both people in a relationship put the other person first, everybody's needs get met." To that end -- it's not the grand gestures or the endless "I love you's" that make me sure of my place in your heart (and secures yours in mine), but the simple act of BEING there, and being there in the right way, time and time again.

I'd much rather you hold my hair when I've got the flu, bring me coffee at midnight when I've been working since dawn with no end in sight, and follow with a $4 bouquet of flowers from Super America than some huge, overblown, cliche act.

We don't need diamonds*****, we need dependability.

But most women (ahem, yes, myself included) have fallen sucker to The Grand Gesture, assuming that (he bought me a dog, he flew me to Italy, he punched out my ex-boyfriend) equates love. And while it certainly indicates a CERTAIN level of commitment on a man's part, I think it's more like a Get Out of Jail Free card for the 1,000,000 times that man has been lazy in the relationship.

Of course, when we turn the tables on The Grand Gesture, rarely does it work this well: men see a female grand gesture as slightly crazy. Women, I encourage you not to do this. When a guy is done, he's DONE... and no amount of begging, pleading, or grandiosity will change his mind. What WILL change his mind? If anything, it's time alone in his own head (and bed), after which it dawns on him, "oh... I goofed." And chances are, at that point, you'll be on the recieving end of a Grand Gesture of his. But rarely does a woman show up on her trusty steed (write 18 pages letters******, hire a minstrel to play at a romantic dinner in the park, throw rocks at his window in the middle of the night), and whisk the man away to live happily ever after. Noooo... usually that stuff ends up with a restraining order and, well, being written about on this blog. What we women might think of as Grand and Romantic is usually just enterpreted as "psycho," and happy hour mockery with the guys ensues.

Double-standard? You betcha. TRUE? Would I lie to you?

But like Kat said -- it's not Hollywood. There are very few "Meet Cute" scenarios these days, unless you count Match.com and 8 Minute Dating as supercute ways to meet a mate. Similarly, we're not in Fair Verona and you are not the Romeo to my Juliet*******

This brings me back to Kat's discussion of When Harry Met Sally. Did Harry NEED the grand gesture? No. He didn't. Because for decades, through thick and thin, he showed Sally that he was her guy. He did the time; he showed up for her tears and her cramps. He loved her, unconditionally, through sweatpants and ponytails, even though the definition of that love changed over time. And the main theme of the movie, that I love so much?

"When you meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start right away."

Sugar and spice,
~Jess


*I'm not sure how Vivian Ward got this gig -- just happens to be a hooker on Wilshire that gets picked up by a multi-millionare, and then he's such an assclown that SHE walks? And HE begs HER to come back? Clearly I'm in the wrong line of work. ALTHOUGH, you can only hear that Richard Gere / gerbil story so many times before you start wondering if it's true...
**If anybody out there has any stories about crazy chicks dying on a cross to profess their unrequired and unconditional love, I want it. NOW.
***Something tells me that back in classic times, dude was working a little harder at grandiosity than just blaring music below the fair maiden's window, thus waking up the entire neighborhood (Say nothing of her dad. Mine would be pissed. You couldn't even CALL after 10).
****I just realized that Lloyd Dobler is possibly the one exception to this "rule," because in Say Anything, it's Diane that acts like kind of an assclown and dumps HIM, giving him a PEN as a parting gift. WTG, Diana.
*****That said, a well timed 1 carat princess cut solitaire in white gold is always a nice touch. When the timing is right, of course.
******I mean really -- didn't we all learn from Ross and Rachael on Friends that the 18-pager is NEVER a good idea?
*******If you want to get technical, Romeo and Juliet were NOT, actually, a depiction of true love -- even though they downed poison and defied their families wishes. In the beginning of the play, Romeo is in love with another women -- he's fickle -- and the darkest interpretations of this work define it as a COMEDY. How's THAT for depressing?

Unrealistic Expectations of Love

Please note that due to a complete and utter lack of effort on your part, dear readers, I've resorted to recycling posts from my other blog that I have with my oh-so-brilliant friends. One posted a link to a story that claims that people who watch Romantic Comedies in turn have unrealistic expectations of relationships and lack communication skills...We then opened season on the hypothesis and this was my response:

Okay, so first off, I'll admit I've likely seen EVERY romantic comedy that has hit mainstream audiences in the past 10 years. I'm not proud of it, but in a way, I may be a pathetic expert on this topic.

Guess what? I'm so bad that I not only suffered through an entire novel (I grate my teeth to even call it that) comprised of 700 some pages of torturous writing - so committed was I to finish that book that I put myself through physical pain. Then do you know what I did? I watched the fucking movie in hopes that it would redeem the story and I would FOR ONCE be able to spew forth the words: The movie was better than the book!

To my, and Hilary Swank's, disgrace - I did not speak those seven words. I sighed and chalked up 2 more hours of my life wasted on "PS I Love You". I kid you not, even Denny from Grey's Anatomy couldn't save this horrific flick.

But that sad experience aside, I love me some chick flick. Do I especially love them during break ups? Hell yes! Do I own many on DVD and rewatch Hitch and French Kiss on a regular basis? You bet! But in my esteemed opinion, there really is one main Romantic Comedy by which to benchmark all others. This film is the be-all, end-all of Rom-Coms, if you will. And I set forth the example of "When Harry Met Sally".

This movie and all others within the genre follow the same general composition and the inevitable and CONSTANT ending - The Grand Gesture.

What is with that? Why can a movie NOT end with The Grand Gesture? In my life this is the only thing that I think may have influenced my relationships. I mean, wasn't every relationship supposed to have its ups and downs always resolved by one member of the relationship providing The Grand Gesture and solving EVERYTHING?

Riiiiight....

No, I totally thought so! I swear! I always thought that after every scuffle, every fight, one of the many exes would race through the barren woods on a snowy winter day, screaming my name, risking twig and limb, only to come back to me standing on the side of a cliff with my hair blowing in the wind, tears steaming down my face and he would arrive, bloodied and breathless and proclaim his undying love. He would tell me everything would be all right, that as long as we had love, we could endure anything together.

Fuck me. Right. But really, I even picked fights in hopes of the grand gesture. God my 20s were awesome!

That said, what about parental influence? Did this study even look at what sorts of homes these people were raised in? In a society where more homes than ever before are headed up by a single parent, isn't it only natural that children would lack an understanding about communication between life partners? That they would lean on movies about relationships in order to gain better understanding about them? I think more than anything else, any delusions or visions I had about the way things "were supposed to be" in my relationships came from my parents and they way they interacted with each other. And that one time my dad raced through the forest to my mom standing on the white cliffs of Dover. Or something.

And I think that people in their 20's - romantic comedy viewers or not - spend much of their time trying to learn how to navigate relationships. What to say, what not to say, how to say it, when to say it, and we ALL crash and burn at some points. And this isn't just with significant others, it happens at work, with friends, with family. Your 20s are a huge time when you learn how best to work your way through relationships of all sorts as you're no longer protected by the umbrella of school or friends or parents. Its you, 20-something, versus the world.

Which I suppose ropes back in someways to the lessons we've brought forth to you, friends thus far:

Date people your own age - or date cougars as they're pretty cool too.

Don't date the crazy, don't be the crazy - and if you're measuring your relationship against that of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle - We may have a problem.

Tit for Tat

Dear Chicks,

I'm your average red-blooded male -- 36 years old, and I have a girlfriend I'm crazy about and VERY attracted to. The problem (you won't believe me, but here goes)? She wants sex ALL the time. And believe me, more often than not, I'm more than willing to oblige -- but sometimes, I just don't want to have sex. And she takes that verrrrrry personally. And then we get into an argument, or she starts crying, or something like that. I don't know how to make her understand that sometimes, I'm just not in the mood... it's been a long day, I have an early morning, etc. etc. Plus, sometimes when she pursues me so much, I feel a bit emasculated, like, "hey, I'm the guy, let me initiate." What do I do? She's crazy, right? HELP!

Signed,
RBM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since Kat and I are preparing for a girls weekend away in the north woods, I thought I'd leave you lovelies with something to ponder whilst we are away -- namely, YOUR wood.

AKA, why does this idiot not want to get laid?

Ha. I kid, I kid. But, RBM (is that code for Ridiculous Bonor Malfunction?), believe me when I say that this is an issue I'm ALL TOO FAMILIAR with, not only because of my own experiences, but that of most women in my social circle. And here's why:

Personally, I think it's mother nature's cruelest joke that just when women are ramping up, the men are slowing down -- from a sexual perspective (say that ten times fast). It's common knowledge that women hit their sexual peak in their early 30s, and men? You peak at like, 18. You spend the next decade trying to nail anything in a skirt, while most of us focus on being a moving target, and then when we're primed and ready to go, you kinda sorta can't be bothered.

Le Sigh.

Let me tell you what happens to a woman at 30 --

For one thing, biology is SCREAMING at us to have babies. So even if we're not necessarily terribly interested in having kids, our ovaries don't agree. Thus, the hormones that make us... how shall we say (um, kat would say "horny" here, but since I'm a delicate little flower*, I prefer to use a different word), amorous.

All the frickin' time.

ALSO, at the same time, we're past that 20-something fear of "oh my god, what if I get pregnant?!" and have moved on a bit into the "oh my god, what if I NEVER get pregnant" phase of life -- no no, I don't mean we're all sitting around neurotically waxing*** on fertility, I just mean that instead of fearing pregnancy, it's more like "Well, I've got my shit straight, good job, enough money, responsible, weeded out the assclowns, I'm sexually confident, and I feel pretty good about myself -- if I want sex, God damnit, I'm going to go out and FIND it, pregnancy be damned!"

And if you aren't interested? I'll find somebody who is.

So in this sense, the roles are a bit reversed. AND there are the hormones.

Men, never underestimate the power of the hormones. You think PMS is a joke, or a scapegoat -- and sometimes it is -- but hormones are very real, and at times, very frustrating.

It's the female equivalent of you sprouting wood during the swimming semester of 7th grade gym class. Uncontrollable, uncomfortable, and leading to situations we didn't intend.

(ie, sniffling, sniveling, semi-drunk girl brain crying about why she must be so fat and ugly that her boyfriend doesn't want to have sex with her).

And then there's the other piece... ahhh, yes. Emasculation. My very favorite topic.

I hear ALL the time that men LOVE IT when we initiate sex. Um, okay, who are these men and where can I find them? Because for the past few years, it's been MY experience that while they might love it some of the time, they also don't really love it. Because, like most red-blooded males, they like to do the chasing. And when they can't chase, they get bored. Or worse, they are afraid the women can outrun them (outearn them, outperform them, outwhatever them), and just sort of shrink off into the corner. Guys, RELAX. Your woman taking the lead in the boudior is NOT code for "I don't value your manhood and I want to be in control," it simply means "I'm confident enough in our relationship -- and in myself -- that I can tell you when I want it, how I want it, and where I want it." DANCE, SUCKA!

(teehee).

Let me set the scene for you here:

Girl and guy are watching TV... they've been together a few years, they have a regular and satisfying sex life. The guy typically initiates, but there's no indication of that happening tonight, and girl is feeling... amorous (there's that word again!). So she starts sort of hinting that maybe... honey... dear... sexy.. it's kinda sorta time to turn off the TV... and come to bed... And then perhaps there's some touching... and hinting... and he's just not picking up on it. OR he's not interested (not sure which is more annoying, frankly). Finally, she thinks "for fuck's sake, I'm done hinting at it," and says "Honey, I want you, right now, let's have sex." He looks at her like she's crazy... and what's running through is head is one of the following:

1) "WHAT!? We were up doin' it all night last night, she cannot be serious. I'm exhausted."
2) "I can't believe she just SAID it like that -- she could have at least hinted!"
3) "I hate it when she intiates, I feel so emasculated"
4) "I had such a crappy day, I don't want to think about anything or do anything, I just want to lay here with my beer and the remote, and try to forget about it.
5) "I have to get up so early tomorrow."

VERY RARELY is it:

6) "God, I'm so turned off by her, she's not pretty, she missed a strip while shaving her leg and now I'm horrified, sex?!?! With that wildabeast!? She's gotta be kidding. Ew. Pass the fritos."

But here is what girlbrain hears, no matter WHAT the circumstances:

"I'm fat. I'm ugly. My boyfriend doesn't like having sex with me, and I might as well go adopt 12 cats and join a convent."

Again, let me explain:

Since from age 18-29, we've been basically conditioned to think that you will nail anything that moves, the INSTANT you DON'T want to nail us, we take it personally. We've heard all your gross stories of bar conquests... of being the wing man and taking one for the team. We've heard that sometimes you creatures are even guilty of having sex with girls you don't even LIKE -- let alone lust after -- simply because it's like eating ice cream -- what's bad ice cream, right!? So the instant you don't want to have sex with us, all reason goes out the window, and we are just... bad ice cream.

Sour, lumpy, and unappealing.

Most marriage / sex counselors would advise a woman to do it anyway, even if not in the mood, because ultimately, once things get heated up, she'll probably BE in the mood really fast (assuming her partner is an attentive lover). With men it doesn't work quite that way - because obviously, um, if things aren't working, they just aren't working and that leaves us with some harsh limitations... which then can lead to embarrassment... which can then lead to further problems. However, I've yet to meet a woman (or at least associate with one!) who would not handle this situation with delicacy and kindness -- if this is a one night stand, that's different... if this is a long term relatoinship?? Guys??! TALK about it.

You're supposed to trust us, after all.

And now, with all this talk of your wood, sprouting wood, and the north woods, it's time for me to go do laundry and pack for our girls weekend... where we'll talk about boys, laugh our asses off, drink wine & build cozy fires with... (wait for it), you guessed it... chopped wood (aaaaaaaaand scene)****.

Sugar and spice,
~jess

*actually, I just really hate the word "horny," because ever since Austin Powers, all I can see in my head is his gross snaggle-tooth and thorny pinkynail being drawn to his mouth. Ew. Or worse, his nipples.** Shudder.
**I hate that word too.
***I think we've made it very clear just what kind of waxing we're doing. And it's definitely not philosophical, although it could be called neurotic.
****Contrary to popular belief, there will not be semi-drunk pillow-fights in our bra and panties*****, but if that's what it takes to get you boys & your wood revved up for our return... fantisize away.
*****I hate this word more than any other word in the english language, other than "moist," so now that we've got that out of the way, I promise never to use any of them again. OH, and slacks. I hate that word. And blouse. Banish them immediately, okay?

Kthxbai!!!

The Hypocrite In Me

I'm currently stuck, stranded, marooned...ahem, snowed in at General Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee. I like to think that I do some of my best writing in airports since that's where I spend the majority of my time these days.

So, then, kiddies, we've nothing but time together, isn't that lovely?

Let's take a little trot back in time to one of my very first Chick Blog Entries when I got myself hiked up onto my soapbox and read you poor guys up one side and very succinctly down the other regarding spineless and unacceptable break up tactics.
Ay yei yei. Kat, you fucking hypocrite.

I realized the extent of my hypocrisy while having a chat with one of my dearest guy friends about the ways that his girlfriend is trying to get him to be more giving and invested in the relationship. I have to say, she's either not very well-versed with guy-brains or one very wily fox because I don't really understand what she's doing at all. Most recently she's cut him off from sex...(wait for it)... and she's in her 30s!!! How can she do it? I mean I'm horny like a teenage boy and we've seen the sorts of things they'll fuck. How can she can turn away a perfectly good boyfriend??

I digress...

This discussion of her tactics drove me from thinking she was trying to get him back into the swing of things to thinking she was trying to get him to end it with her to spare her the responsibility and the dirty work.

Aha!

And then I got to trot along memory lane of all the horrible things (conscious and sub-conscious) I'd done to get the hell out of a relationship.

1. I became a stark-raving bitch. He earned it, he wouldn't let me end it, kept on weaseling his way back in. Not my fault that I had to treat him like a miscreant.

2. I convinced him to go to a college VERY far away and then said we'd see each other when we could knowing full well that I was just trying to get rid of him. This culminated in a very unsavory Homecoming Dance incident.

3. I don't even know if I can say the last one but let's just say it wasn't very stand up but neither was telling him that being intimate with him was like "fucking my own thumb".

I'm a very bad person. Its a good thing I purge myself of these things via the blog so they don't taint my soul.

So I'm A Bitch, Dump Me Then.

Question for the ladies in the Hizzouse:

How many of you have acted like a complete bitch in hopes that your boyfriend will break up with you thus sparing you the ugly task of being the end-er of the relationship?

I've done it. I just heard about a girl doing it to one of my guy friends (note: she seemingly failed and thus went with the "No Sex For You" route which will likely prove effective in this case). I'm wondering if this is a widespread phenomenon worth exploring or if its just limited to the cowardly.

If its a phenomenon, I'll noodle on it and throw out thoughts/ideas/schemes to debunk the bitch.

-kat

Love Lockdown

This touches a bit on Kat's previous discussion of How To Tell If You're Her Holischmuck, but I feel it bears mentioning.

I have a male friend who went on a second date with a woman he likes -- but already, by the end of date #2, he's got an invitation to meet the friends and be her date at a holiday party.

Two. Dates.

Now, keep in mind, this friend of mine has an entire harem of women he's dating right now -- he basically has his pick of with whom he wants to fish, and whom he wants to cut bait (Okay, I butchered that expression, but I tried, give me some credit. I did so without ending my sentence with a preposition).

There are a few theories here --

1) You two have an honest connection, and you're both comfortable with moving forward. If that's the case, by all mean -- invite away!

2) You're trying to "lockdown" yer man. Bring him as deeply into your world as possible so that he won't want to -- or can't -- get away easily.

3) You like him so much that you want to show him off and impress your friends, family, co-workers, whatever. Understandable (until he dumps you for being A Loony and then you have to explain how you ruined things with The Awesome Guy).

4) It's your first holiday season single, post-breakup, and you're terrified and sad about attending holiday functions sans significant other. (Been there, done that, have the t-shirt -- and my best advice? Get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid, it's never as bad as you think it will be. In fact, my first holiday season I had post-serious-breakup, I was terrified at the notion of being single, even within my own family. Turns out, it was even better than it had been with my ex, because he just made things SO complicated.)

Here's the bottom line -- women have a tendency to bring a Uhaul to the first date -- we're nesters, by instinct and biology, and for the most part have spent our lives waiting for our partners "light to come on.*" It's said that women get married when they meet the right person, and men get married when the timing is right -- and not a moment before or after, regardless of the person or situation.

Guys, if you're READY for this, then go for it! Go to the holiday parties, meet the girlfriends**... and move forward with the relationship. But a word of advice? If you're NOT ready? Just SAY so... for fuck's sake, we are not as fragile as you all think we are. It's okay to say "Hey, I'm really enjoying getting to know you, and I want to get to know you better, but I don't think I'm quite ready for the "meet the friends" stuff just yet."

There's no need to fake it, make excuses, stop returning phone calls, or fall off planet earth. Just be honest.

(Personally, I don't wanna be doin' that with anybody until we've established exclusivity -- can you imagine how awkward it would be the following Friday, after they've all gaga'd about your guy, when ya'll run into him out on the town... with another woman on his arm? Yikes.)

Women.. make sure your attemps are coming from the right place. I think a lot of women instinctively try to force their way into relationships because they think they HAVE to, or they SHOULD -- it's less about feeling a genuine readiness or genuine interest in BUILDING something real, rather it's about forcing it. Locking it down. There's nothing natural about that, and don't we all really want these things to grow organically? Blossoming because you're both happy and at ease, confident, comfortable, and natural? Not because somebody has forced an ill-fitting object through a poorly-matched space, confining and conforming it into an unnatural setting.

Didn't Kanye say it best?

I’m not lovin' you
Way I wanted to
What I had to do
Had to run from you
I’m in love with you
But the vibe is wrong
And that haunted me all the way home

I'm not lovin' you
Way I wanted to
See I want to move
But can’t escape from you
So I keep it low
Keep a secret code
So everybody else don’t have to know

Sugar and Spice,
~Jess

*yeah, there are going to be lots of Sex and the City references here. Deal with it. I'm a single career gal in my 30s. You do the math.
**hey, if nothing else, you've just met a whole other pack of single women to pluck from if things don't work out with Lockdown Girl.