all i'm certain of is the red sox. in life, i mean. in life and in regard to some semblance of kindness. and in moral clarity.
lately, i have been amazed by men. not amazed in the fluorescent goodness of chivalry kind of way. more like i'm standing here watching a man beat himself over the head with a frying pan. and even though i have been watching him do it all day, or for a few years, i'm surprised.
which is nothing special except--and hannah can attest to this--it's not a single person. it's a slew of you. it's like watching the graduating class of ridiculous beat themselves in unison over the head with a frying pan.
i tried not to do this. you know? i love men. i love their company, the whole air of mystery that comes with, you know, them not being women. but i feel like i'm living inside the carnival of bad decisions. to be fair, i'm a part of it. like, i recognize the roller coaster is going to hang upside down for a full minute and none of the seatbelts work but i'm waiting it out in line.
i'm trying to do this without specifics, and yet we all know you have to give the writing a house.
a man cheats on his girlfriend. they fix the problem by moving to, say, kansas, only so he can cheat on her there as well. with a girl who lives in alabama.
a man leaves his wife on her 4oth birthday, says, "i didn't want to look back one day and see that my life was a compromise. also i need to focus on my paddling, take it to the next level." (refers to canoe, i think)
a woman tells a man she's pregnant. the man, in turn, says "interesting" softly to himself, takes his baseball hat off and then puts it back on...backwards.
a man is not there for a woman the only time she has ever needed him. he also owes her money. he doesn't call for a couple days, then does, drunk and from a golf course.
all of these men regret whatever it is they've done that was supposed to be more fun or less compromising or whatever and attempt to get the women back by offering up mix cd's and the latest edition of paste magazine.
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interesting. very.
aaron has a habit of doing things that are wrong (he knows they're wrong), and then saying sorry like it'll fix everything.
he doesn't understand why he is still rebuked and/or punished. 'no ice cream,' i tell him. 'but i said sorry,' he'll say. 'that doesn't undo things,' i answer. but he doesn't get it. he is incapable of grasping the concept. in his mind, the action is undone, rewound, unhappened.
he did it just now. in the car. and then in the rearview i saw his lips moving soundlessly: isaidiwassorryisaidiwassorry.
Wow. Mamie. I didn't think it possible, but you summed up the reasons why I don't date. Like, perfectly. Poet and you know it.
I have to agree with jayslacks, i will never, ever be in another relationship again. Thanks, Mames. XOXO
i do what i can do, jerks.
I see men are moving up. They go from flowers and chocolates to mix cd's and the latest edition of paste magazine. how thoughtful.......
Mix cd's and the latest edition of paste magazine? Those are so impractical. It's more like flowers and chocolates to a 12 pack of toilet paper and deodorant.
how about a porky's dvd set and a can of mixed nuts? am i oversimplifying an entire gender yet again? awesome.
i read this years after it was written during a strange Googleing of something i have now forgotten and it hits me with a startling clarity that you must've been in the room when i told a Bartow i was pregnant. right now, i am very irritated.....a bruised ego is slow to heal afterall.
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