The main theme of the magazine (it was a summer issue) was why men do weird stuff. Like why don't men do things around the house more to help out? Or what's up with not noticing things like hair cuts or putting kids' shoes on the wrong feet for them... and it was all explained from the point of view of men.
One of them touched home about a husband being given the silver medal and feeling like a third party in his own bed to his wife and their 3 year old son. Suddenly Dad's needs weren't anywhere on the radar and all the Mom could see was the tiny little person in her arms. He went and interviewed his best female friend about it and she knew exactly what he was talking about -- and basically told him that's just the way biology made it. It wasn't sexual or emotional for a woman -- it was animal. You fall in love with your offspring.
But another article made me laugh. The guy was trying to be so honest. He'd answer the question about why guys don't do more to help out around house and give suggestions like, put a list of things to do around the house but DON'T put his name on it. Guys like to do things. They like to get things done and feel useful. But they hate being told to do them. He dealt with all the common sense complaints, but then at the end he broke off into a very complimentary, almost seductive 200 words that just really did a bang up job of explaining why I love men. (I love women, too, but that's a different blog.) ;-)
He'd talk about how men are fascinated by everything about the person they choose to be with. They're just daft about being able to tell you what it is that you do that makes them crave you when you're half dressed on the way to bed, watching you sleep, seeing you take charge of a situation, watching you be vulnerable, seeing you twirl your hair as you think through an issue -- and they love your hair, no matter what it looks like.
I'm not married to the most verbal person in the world. He's got 10,000 words and all the time in the world to give a room full of geeks. But he's only got three of them for me, but they're the right words.
And although I wish that sometimes, he'd be able to flirt and tease and banter in a seductive way. I've come to understand over the last 16 years that a simple, "I love you," goes a long way. Especially when the one you love is 1,000 miles from home.
Since I was a kid, I considered myself to be broken and unloveable in one way or another. I always felt unable to connect enough to be anyone's soul mate or favorite, but what I realized when I met MacTroll was that I do connect. I connect like crazy, but I also tend to partition myself into pieces so no one gets the whole picture. I'm like a good hard drive that way... He knows this, because he partitions, too. It's a survival instinct for both of us.
So I go about living my life and exploring the world. If a part of me breaks down there are other parts to help carry me through. It makes the shit that hurt not hurt so much. It provides me solace. I know I can get through and mend and be stronger.
I'm full of faults. Some of them I'm more bothered by than others. But one thing I know of is that in order to feel like I'm living I need to feel like I'm in charge of my own destiny and not just following others around as they live their lives. I am smart. I am crazily independent. I am amazingly fun, but I have a strong sense of duty and a remarkable skill at organization that keeps me grounded. But what makes me feel like living is my imagination. It overcomes the ghosts from the past and creates adventures for the future.
So, hooray for living.
Tonight, I'm going to see a Kevin Smith movie at the Savoy 16 called Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Smith is 50/50 in my movie going experience. He's either extraordinary (Clerks, Dogma, Chasing Amy) or he sucks ass (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Jersey Girl).
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