Men

he's just not that into you? or he is, but he just happens to be a guy?


i have a girlfriend who makes me laugh all the time.

when in our first year of college we both fell in love with boys who were anything other than meant-to-be, her friends gave her the book He's Just Not that Into You and she was an immediate convert who then went on to proselytize the importance of recognizing when...

well, when... he's just not that into you.

but lately. said friend's he's just not that into you advice has stood in direct opposition to my mother's advice--my mother who tells me to be patient and to relax. that men think differently--see things differently.

and while neither has completely illuminated the male mind for me, they've both shed a little light on how a female's age and experience influences their opinion of said mind.

experience. i guess that's the point. i just have to have the experience.



ps: there was a great article in the ny times magazine (i think?) on the new book by neuropsychiatrist louann brizendine, The Male Brain detailing just exactly how different the male brain is from our own--why it is they can't not look at the big tits in the tight t-shirt. i can't find the article online (i'll keep working on it) but i did find a great interview she did with elle. i particularly love what she says at the very end:

The thing that is awesome to me—which I see in my office with couples who come to me—I’ll ask her, “How do you know he loves you?” and she’ll say, “Because he wants to talk to me.” But when I ask him, he’ll say, “Because she wants to have sex with me.” Women don’t understand that men feel loved when you want to have sex with them—and if you reject them, it means you don’t love them. And if a man can’t verbally empathize with a woman when she feels unloved—they’re like ships passing in the night. That, to me, speaks volumes. Remember Beauty and the Beast? It’s from the song—first she gives a little bit, then he gives a little bit. That’s how you can start to see things from the other person’s point of view. That captures what’s been going on in my office for 25 years.


just a little something to think about.

dear crush,






Dear Crush,


If you think I don't know your name. If I don't say hello or goodbye. If my eyes dart to the floor every time you look in my direction. If I scowl or pretend to ignore you. If I act like I'm much too good. If you wonder why I'm friendly and charming with everyone but you...it's because I like you. It's because my whole body gets warm when I see you. It's because I'm actually shy. It's because you've missed the countless sidelong glances I've thrown in your direction. And because I am completely terrified that if our eyes were to ever meet, it would all be over--that in that instant I would unwittingly confess to the thousands of little lies that kept you from knowing just how hard I might (and maybe want) to fall for you. 

signed,
the girl you think has a crush on your friend.


image found at ffffoun (of course).

I guess I should confess...

that I'm in need of a really good cry. It's not that I'm sad. Because I'm not. I just feel something welling up inside of me and I could use a little release.
that I even resorted watching to One Tree Hill in bed last night to try to get that "really good cry"...
...and then drinking a smirnoff (because I didn't have wine) and taking a hot shower (because I didnt' have time for a bath
that I started playing footsie with Ned about a few days ago thinking it would end there, but it didn't.
that I'm may never ever escape Ned.
that I discovered the exact location of that really good chlorine whiff on 5th ave. It's 54th street in case you want to know.
that I fell asleep in Sheep's meadow today and it was so good that I forgot where I was. In fact I started to get chilly so woke up to turn off my ceiling fan, only to realize it was the breeze and I was napping in a public park. And that I had no shame about that.

that I'm blogging right now from Rockefeller Plaza (thanks to someone's free wi-fi), while I kill time before my job starts at the Met. I should be preparing for my auditions. But I'm not. Or exercising. But I'm not.
that I've become addicted to blogging, most especially right now anything to do with the Nielsons. I go to Nie Nie and C Jane Enjoy It and wonder at their strength and faith and the glorious writing and then I stare at those gorgeous pictures of Stephanie and her children and wonder if I've ever met someone so beautiful. And I find myself praying for people I don't even know. And I don't pray much.
that I hate having to ask people for gifts (aka money) over the phone...even if it is for a good cause. I get it...no one likes the pushy phone calls, no one likes to give money away...but it's my job and I love the people I work with. So please...have patience with telemarketers and fundraisers...they're just trying to make a go of it like everyone else.
that I can't understand why not one man offered me his seat on the bus this morning. I stood there for an hour. Chances are I would have refused, but really--is chivalry actually dead?
that I just realized I actually have to do something other than this...oh damn, the real world beckons and I am forced to answer.