Wednesday, October 28, 2009

psycho

psycho
nutcase

wackdoodle

batty

freak

crazy

insane

barmy

nuts

out of one’s tree

screwy

unhinged

loony

mental

erratic

cracked

beyond all reason

nonsensical

wild

bats in the belfry

schizo

unglued

etc.....

there are countless adjectives men use to describe women in that frenzied state, when the feel misunderstood. nothing made my blood boil more fervently than when my now ex-husband would call me psycho. he'd do it deliberately in the heat of a disagreement, to rile me more. with the use of this one little word, he would upset the order of my mental state and instantaneously prove he was right.

what is it with us girls? why do we get so bent out of shape in the company of lovers? we are brilliant multi-tasking cool as a cucumber pillars of strength in any other situation.

when the universe is colliding with my dimension and everything seems to be going wrong, a switch goes off inside me and I go into “taking care of business” mode. I go into a calm state of awake. tackling tasks and problem solving become my mode of operandi, as I take care of any business at hand.

in the heat of disaster, I can breathe and manage a myriad of things without a hint of emotion. when my car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, or my son begins freaking out over something that seems gigantic to a seven year old, or a fire breaks out in the kitchen or any other crazy thing happens, I just breathe and deal.

none of it bugs me, it’s all just life.

but as soon as my heart is invested in a man, my sense of cool goes on hiatus. my focus turns, and all the events of the day seem a little less manageable. emotions surge. I feel things. the ice queen melts.

I’d love to try and take credit for being the only Ms. Jeckel and Hyde I know, but sadly, I confess, all the women I know suffer this way. The other night, one of my mentors said, “Love is the Opiate of Women.” perhaps we really all are Love Junkies at heart. when love is new and present, we float in a state of love induced high, impervious to troubles and zoned out in fantasy. At the first signs of rejection, we feel withdrawal, pain, the shakes, the sweats and all of our self-centered fears emerge.

there are many “rules” chicks are taught to follow in order to hide the fact that women are love-crazed lunatics from their men. books and books have been crafted on the subject of how women can quell their inner psycho, to portray a cool calm collected savvy hip chick with nothing better to do than be gorgeous. trust me, this portrayal that woman are like this is false!

I fancy myself the chill, laid back type. and compared to most, I really am. but like every girl out there, I’ve got my triggers… memories of abandonment imprinted from daddy to the men of my present all flood back at the signs of any sort of rejection. hey, this isn’t something unique to me, all girls suffer this torture.

one of the things I absolutely find endearing about my lesbian friends is their ability to hone in and craft entire relationships around this girl obsessed estrogen based brand of love crazy. They feed on each other’s wacky love thing, and parlay it into passion, no we’re just friends, and sex and no we’re just friends and we’re partners and passion and ….. etc….. roller coaster of two women at the controls. Yowwwwwsa. talk about highs and lows and a lust for drama.

I usually end my blog entries with a solution. But unfortunately, until my boobs fall off and I grow a penis, there is no cure.

so the only thing I figure I can do at this juncture is end the seeking and do nothing. not sure how long this stint will last, but if I focus on all the stuff I tackle well, my writing, my profession, my school work, being super mom and my spiritual practice, the other romance stuff can’t cloud my ability to get “life” done.

today I set a new intention to myself. I’m in a relationship with me, at least I know I’m gonna call myself back! and I’m a great listener, good cook and I am really really good in bed, lol.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Zman & Telula

the first time I got called into school to have a chat about my son's naughty behavior was a few years ago. the headmistress of my son's preschool contacted me to alert me to the fact that my 3 year old son was caught in the little tykes clubhouse kissing one of his little girl school mates. it didn't stop there. from then on, I've cought my little player man in action, flirting with my friends, kissing girls while playing Littlest Pet Shop behind the couch, and so on.

like other little boys his age, he's put on a show, pretending to hate girls, when he secretly adores them.

at the grocery check out line, he'll point the latest issue of Cosmo and exclaim, "she's got really nice boobies!"

so, I was sort of surprised the other night, while snuggling up to read our night time story, when Zman asked, "at what age am I ready to have a girlfriend?"

he continues to share with me about his girl troubles. over the past few days, he's been heartbroken that his little friend Telula has been harassing him on the bus. taking his Bakugans and throwing them, hitting him and the other usual tell-tale signs that 2nd grade love is in the air.

"So do you know why Telula is harassing you on the bus? it's because she like likes you," I ask him.

there was a long pause, while he pretended to be grossed out, an incurable smirky smile brewed on his face. his skin turned slightly pink, and his eyebrows raised ever so slightly. had he not realized this? of course not! he's seven.

so I get to the heart of the matter, "do you like like Telula?"

in a grown up and quite matter of factly voice, he responded, "well mommy, she's not really the girl for me, we don't have the same things in common. I need to be with a girl who likes the same things as Me, you know....punk rock music, skateboarding, and cool stuff like that. she doesn't even like Green Day, the best band like ever, so it would't work out."

his superficial quick to judge response made me think a lot about my romantic choices.

as I've matured, suffered the end of a marriage, and conquered a host of baaaaaaaaaaaaaad darkly comical dating experiences over the past few years, I too have become quick to judge what will work or not based on surface commonalities.

with the internet presenting us and our likenesses on dating sites and community sites like Facebook, who needs to dip into the getting to know you process. with a click of a mouse, I can plow through your cultural interests, favorite albums, pictures of you and your friends and determine if you're right for me. am I any different than my son in this regard?

it's easy to look at some pictures online and read well-thought out profile pages and make a judgment call about what I think. perhaps the problem in the online dating thing really begins and ends here.

the few times I've been out with men I've met online, the same thing happens. I project what I think they are like, create personalities, and allow my fantasy to craft the person I'll be meeting before I meet him.

most likely, he has done the same thing.

for example, the last fellow I went out with... I met on a "dating" site, that I actually tried out for a month. he was the Only prospect of interest, and came off weird, cute and creative. just like I like a guy to be. electronically, we were a wonderful match, in person... total disaster. I fantasized him in to this virile man capable of taking charge and enjoying similar creative interests. in reality, he was NONE of the things I projected onto him as being.

Zman sparked a curious point. does it matter that he agrees with me that OK Computer is the pinnacle of musical genius? maybe not.

as I began to describe the beginning of my relationship with my now-ex-husband to Zman, I talked about chemistry, about the sharing and exchanging of interests, that it didn't matter that Daddy loved PJ Harvey and Mommy loved Orbital. looking back to a time when dating was simpler, and when electronic hooking up didn't exist, I realize we've become desensitized to true chemistry and the work involved in making an effort to get to know someone.

I had forgotten all about that in-person chemistry experience. it has been years since I've enjoyed that type of exchange.

so to Zman, I suggest, perhaps it doesn't matter if Telula doesn't like punk rock music, if you enjoy the exchange of punches and laughter on the school bus, that could be the fledgling of true love after all. ask her out on a playdate, she might just surprise you and have something greater to offer than you anticipated.