The Grand Gesture
Girls expect romance more than guys. This is true. Which, in turn, means that a guy has a duty that girls are freed of. (Mark the date of this entry, I believe I am in rescue for the fellas).
I was talking to a guy the other day and we were discussing creative, romantic gestures, including marriage proposals. Some sweet tales were exchanged. Days later, I realize that all the stories were things that a GUY has done/could do. *Scratch forehead* Why there were no stories of how a woman has proposed is understandable- traditionally, it hasn’t happened much. Okay, so be it. But why?
When a guy performs the grand gesture, it is considered romantic, when a girl does it, it is often looked upon as foolishly audacious. This doesn’t have to apply to only marriage proposals, it can include other grand gestures such as professing one’s love, demonstrating desire, initiating a reconciliation, et al. A woman says “I love you” and sometimes, it is uneasily received. A woman initiates sex and often, she is labeled easy. A woman asks for a guy back and, she may be considered needy.
So, is this worse for the guy, being stuck with plentiful duties in the romance department or, for the girl, restricted from acting upon thoughts/feeling?
Well, if guys were obliged to a little less and girls initiated a little more, then maybe a shift in balance will occur, leading people to be able to act in accordance to their wishes. How nice would it be for a guy to get chocolates on Valentines and for a girl to be able to call a in the middle of the night (with no judgment ;)
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Thanksgiving with the Sopranos
This was my first Thanksgiving away from home. Granted, Thanksgiving in my family doesn't depict a traditional one, if we want turkey, we go to Boston Market. My family is not big on holidays, that's been the case all my life thus, it's what I know and it's what I'm fine with. But, this year I was in for a holiday treat, a traditional east coast Thanksgiving with the Sopranos meets the Romanos.
A friend from school, Jaime (this girl is crazy, she's one of those who you thought must have been a cheerleader/president of her sorority, but she's even cooler than that, she was the one roll her eyes at 'em) extends a gracious warm invite.
We approach the home and easily I spot the house. Christmas lights drape every pane and roof tile. We walk up the steps, I smell the enticing aroma, yum. We enter and turkey decor ubiquitous in this Queens suburb home. The greetings begin. The family is Italian, which means kisses on both cheeks for every hello, goodbye and a few extra in passing. Soon, appetizers are served: stuffed mushrooms, stuffed tomatoes, stuffed artichokes, Italians really know how to stuff, including guests. As soon as a plate clears, more food is on its way. Some food, then the Turkey Bowl. Yep, a family football game. Soon to follow, THE MEAL. All the fixings, two to three versions of all the fixings, "Candy, this is vegetarian stuffing, I know you're from California. Now, there are some low-cal foods, which I don't think you should eat, because it's not good and you don't need to be concerned but you're from California, so who knows?" I love it. Thus far, it's like what I see in the movies, except the characters names are Uncle Ray, Uncle Jimmy, Cousin Tony and a few juniors, there's even an Uncle Carmine. And the women, they're cooks, moms of 3-4 children, and they call you "honey" and "sweetie" with total naturalness. They also ask the family to go around and say grace.
My turn comes. I'm red and it's not from the wine, which they didn't stop pouring...I wonder if that was grape juice in the baby bottles. I creatively say, "I'm thankful for being able to spend Thanksgiving with this family." Everyone cheers, toasts and sips. This goes on for every person's grace. More energy is exerted in the after dinner activity, Charades. I don't recall the last time paying games with my family...no, I take that back, we play a lot of phone tag.
And on those messages, we do tell each other what's going on in our lives, occasionally even that we miss each other and my mom is always telling me to wait to cross streets one foot away from the curb. So, when I was thinking about how jovially-spirited the Jordans are (for safety reasons, they don't go by Soprano), and wishing that I had a family that like that to go home to on the Holidays, I realized that I did wish I could go home to my family. We eat whatever delivers on a holiday, go to Starbucks for dessert, fight, yell, laugh, only to re-fuel to fight a little more...see, now that's the traditional Thanksgiving, isn't it? Although, the Jordans were a great substitute.
This was my first Thanksgiving away from home. Granted, Thanksgiving in my family doesn't depict a traditional one, if we want turkey, we go to Boston Market. My family is not big on holidays, that's been the case all my life thus, it's what I know and it's what I'm fine with. But, this year I was in for a holiday treat, a traditional east coast Thanksgiving with the Sopranos meets the Romanos.
A friend from school, Jaime (this girl is crazy, she's one of those who you thought must have been a cheerleader/president of her sorority, but she's even cooler than that, she was the one roll her eyes at 'em) extends a gracious warm invite.
We approach the home and easily I spot the house. Christmas lights drape every pane and roof tile. We walk up the steps, I smell the enticing aroma, yum. We enter and turkey decor ubiquitous in this Queens suburb home. The greetings begin. The family is Italian, which means kisses on both cheeks for every hello, goodbye and a few extra in passing. Soon, appetizers are served: stuffed mushrooms, stuffed tomatoes, stuffed artichokes, Italians really know how to stuff, including guests. As soon as a plate clears, more food is on its way. Some food, then the Turkey Bowl. Yep, a family football game. Soon to follow, THE MEAL. All the fixings, two to three versions of all the fixings, "Candy, this is vegetarian stuffing, I know you're from California. Now, there are some low-cal foods, which I don't think you should eat, because it's not good and you don't need to be concerned but you're from California, so who knows?" I love it. Thus far, it's like what I see in the movies, except the characters names are Uncle Ray, Uncle Jimmy, Cousin Tony and a few juniors, there's even an Uncle Carmine. And the women, they're cooks, moms of 3-4 children, and they call you "honey" and "sweetie" with total naturalness. They also ask the family to go around and say grace.
My turn comes. I'm red and it's not from the wine, which they didn't stop pouring...I wonder if that was grape juice in the baby bottles. I creatively say, "I'm thankful for being able to spend Thanksgiving with this family." Everyone cheers, toasts and sips. This goes on for every person's grace. More energy is exerted in the after dinner activity, Charades. I don't recall the last time paying games with my family...no, I take that back, we play a lot of phone tag.
And on those messages, we do tell each other what's going on in our lives, occasionally even that we miss each other and my mom is always telling me to wait to cross streets one foot away from the curb. So, when I was thinking about how jovially-spirited the Jordans are (for safety reasons, they don't go by Soprano), and wishing that I had a family that like that to go home to on the Holidays, I realized that I did wish I could go home to my family. We eat whatever delivers on a holiday, go to Starbucks for dessert, fight, yell, laugh, only to re-fuel to fight a little more...see, now that's the traditional Thanksgiving, isn't it? Although, the Jordans were a great substitute.
Monday, November 24, 2003
Separate-Togetherness
I got to thinking (I do give it a whirl sometimes) and thought how it's funny how when you're dating multiple people simultaneously there's not much to talk about with your girlfriends. "How's Jim, Bob, and Smith?" Reply: "It's cool, they're fun, you know, everything's cool." Succinct yet, vague. This is not intentional but, it is the inevitable when there is not one focus. But, if you're actually in that elusive one-on-one situation, there's a plethora of topics to discuss i.e., he's a bastard because (fill in the blank), or he did the sweetest thing, he (fill in the blank). Or, better yet, when there is no one, endless rants persist on the gripe of the lack thereofs.
I suppose this is because when you're multi-dating, no one particular really means anything. If there is just the one, the others would be a mere disruption. Now, the real question is, does that prevent anything from developing into anything serious, or do we practice such a juggle as a measure of caution? I know, I know this is not a new lament from me but it is reiterated because seemingly, this is an issue that prevails from college to marriage, girl to guy, guy to girl and coast to coast.
Words like "serious," "exclusive," and, of course, "commitment" have become words of taboo in the realm of dating. Fine. It's perfectly okay to desire other things in lieu of a relationship. There are notions that suggest that a lot must be sacrificed if not, at least compromised to engage in a steady relationship and that's just too much work. It is a separate-togetherness that is sought. Then, as a result, has independence become an easier trait to acquire than co-dependence?
I got to thinking (I do give it a whirl sometimes) and thought how it's funny how when you're dating multiple people simultaneously there's not much to talk about with your girlfriends. "How's Jim, Bob, and Smith?" Reply: "It's cool, they're fun, you know, everything's cool." Succinct yet, vague. This is not intentional but, it is the inevitable when there is not one focus. But, if you're actually in that elusive one-on-one situation, there's a plethora of topics to discuss i.e., he's a bastard because (fill in the blank), or he did the sweetest thing, he (fill in the blank). Or, better yet, when there is no one, endless rants persist on the gripe of the lack thereofs.
I suppose this is because when you're multi-dating, no one particular really means anything. If there is just the one, the others would be a mere disruption. Now, the real question is, does that prevent anything from developing into anything serious, or do we practice such a juggle as a measure of caution? I know, I know this is not a new lament from me but it is reiterated because seemingly, this is an issue that prevails from college to marriage, girl to guy, guy to girl and coast to coast.
Words like "serious," "exclusive," and, of course, "commitment" have become words of taboo in the realm of dating. Fine. It's perfectly okay to desire other things in lieu of a relationship. There are notions that suggest that a lot must be sacrificed if not, at least compromised to engage in a steady relationship and that's just too much work. It is a separate-togetherness that is sought. Then, as a result, has independence become an easier trait to acquire than co-dependence?
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Wine and Whine
Buzzed. Again. I’ve had trouble sleeping. I’ve had to drink a little to get to sleep. This is nothing new for a former insomniac. Yet, it is new when you have to drunk dial friends back in California.
So, I have been sipping wine and sniffling tears. It’s been three months in NY and already so much has happened. So many hellos and almost as many goodbyes.
I have yet to establish a set group of trusted friends, correction, girl friends. I have been blessed to have had the same circle of the greatest girls for almost a decade now. I have often debated whether or not I was missing out for not belonging to a more balanced, coed group of friends. I now have the answer. No, I never felt a void for lacking platonic male companions. However, I DO feel the emptiness of not having a group of just the girls. Granted, any potential girl I meet will ever measure up to my girls back home; nonetheless, I'm a girl’s girl. I need girl friends.
I miss 7 girls wripping apart a closet to get ready for a night out. I miss drinking, dancing and dining with them. Particularly the latter, I miss the Jack in the Box drive thru’s. *sniffle* I miss them making fun of the guy I was talking to at the club. I miss giving them shit for spending the whole night talking to a gorgeous gay guy. I even miss the drama. Ahh, the drama. Moved 5000 miles to get away from it only to learn that it was that that made us last. How triumphant we have been given the tears and guys we have shed ;) Fortunately, I have also met people to appease the forlornness. People that have distracted the isolation with laughter, conversation, pearls and twirls at Suede, boy bashing at Cafeteria, walking over bridges, salsa and Salsa, great burgers a la Blue 9, and parties in your mouths.
Buzzed. Again. I’ve had trouble sleeping. I’ve had to drink a little to get to sleep. This is nothing new for a former insomniac. Yet, it is new when you have to drunk dial friends back in California.
So, I have been sipping wine and sniffling tears. It’s been three months in NY and already so much has happened. So many hellos and almost as many goodbyes.
I have yet to establish a set group of trusted friends, correction, girl friends. I have been blessed to have had the same circle of the greatest girls for almost a decade now. I have often debated whether or not I was missing out for not belonging to a more balanced, coed group of friends. I now have the answer. No, I never felt a void for lacking platonic male companions. However, I DO feel the emptiness of not having a group of just the girls. Granted, any potential girl I meet will ever measure up to my girls back home; nonetheless, I'm a girl’s girl. I need girl friends.
I miss 7 girls wripping apart a closet to get ready for a night out. I miss drinking, dancing and dining with them. Particularly the latter, I miss the Jack in the Box drive thru’s. *sniffle* I miss them making fun of the guy I was talking to at the club. I miss giving them shit for spending the whole night talking to a gorgeous gay guy. I even miss the drama. Ahh, the drama. Moved 5000 miles to get away from it only to learn that it was that that made us last. How triumphant we have been given the tears and guys we have shed ;) Fortunately, I have also met people to appease the forlornness. People that have distracted the isolation with laughter, conversation, pearls and twirls at Suede, boy bashing at Cafeteria, walking over bridges, salsa and Salsa, great burgers a la Blue 9, and parties in your mouths.
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