The spring vacation is well under-way, I'm being (over)fed quite well indeed and what's more- I'm sleeping again! Let the Kingdom rejoice! After my last little post, I underwent an extensive googling of "the meaning of dreams, >bath tub, linen, windows, bed<" etc, and found in general my subconscious was telling me to get laid. And travel. Go figure. I poo-poo'd the most of it, I'm always very suspiscious of fortune-telling/introspection which seems to tell you whatever you want to hear- it's like cosmic brown-nosing. But it turned out that fleeing from a hive of tension and a little lover's tryst later, I felt all better!
What always helps with stress relief, better than sedate "Rest and Relaxation", is of course a real belly-aching fit of laughter, which I got a huge dosage of at the Desert Rose social evening a few weeks ago. With copious amounts of mojito and sangria, and a bolshy round of "Never have I ever.." we all found ourselves struggling to carry ourselves with any kind of grace- but you know what we did do? We figured out a helluva lot of "lost truths". This is no radical thing, after a certain amount of alcohol, people become really philosophical or politically charged and all of a sudden you realise that under your rule, the country- nay, the world- would run with unknown levels of efficiency and amicability. Let's review some of the "theories of life" that I can more or less remember.
1. The guy always pays for the first date.
This was a complete revelation to me. I've always taken pride on "going dutch" when the bill arrives at the end of the first date, theres a little shuffle of "oh no, that's fine, let's just split the bill" meaning I'm always paying for whatever I ordered, or if he got the more expensive dish, then yes I'm paying a little of his way too- BUT apparently, that little shuffle is supposed to end with him puffing up his chest, and insisting that the treat was on him. My first reaction? " For 21 years, I've been jipped!" which lead to me then wallowing in my terrible taste for cheap-skate men and a little rendition of TLC's "No Scrubs".
Ladies of the blogosphere, if you too, like I, have been asserting your quasi-feminist independence, arretez-vous immediately. As I understand it, if a guy asks you out on a date, as recompense for the time you lost which you would have otherwise had to yourself to carry out a home styled mani-pedi or to sit in huge pants watching some sitcom marathon, that man will PAY YOUR WAY. This isn't him paying for your time like some sort of escort, but this is supposedly him meant to be peacocking "Look, if you stick with me, I can take care of you, and treat you, treat you like a princess of Buy-one-get-one-free-burger Land". And if he doesn't, he is either
1. Cheap and unchivalrous or
2. Cheap because he's seeing a million other girls at the same and can't afford to pay for you all and
2b. Unchivalrous because he's dating a million other girls or just
3. Not having good enough a time to think it was worth the hassle.
I had a load of other girls giving me the "oh you poor dear look" as I half-heartedly tried to convince them that there was something refreshing about paying your own way as a single lady, but c'mon- I didn't like being single and broke. So, take heed: dance around the bill as long as you have to, but no man worth his salt will let you pay. You fragile little dear you.
2. Men aren't as unromantic as you think.
On the contrary, we found our little group full of romance-killers and clutzes. From the ones who'd accidentally foiled proposal attempts, to those who'd just fluffed the magic of a first kiss- as examples of women-kind, we warmly accept the label of "Romantic Hazard".
Yes, men may not fully appreciate the "simplest" gestures of romance, like a bunch of flowers or trying to win a stuffed animal at the fairground (Addendum to the above theory of life: him paying for you is not romance, it's just common courtesy apparently, no more astounding than blinking or breathing, and therefore should not be recognised, lest it becomes a "grand gesture") but I'm thinking their idea of romance is a lot more like an onion. It has many complex layers and is a lot less aesthetically pleasing. And Alex, cher, you don't need to go thinking you're unromantic, you're plenty good in my opinion, so you just sit tight mmkay? *Cheek pinch*
It appears from my fuzzy-headed sources, that men express their romance in 5 year plans, mentally working out how to incorporate you into his family life, when you should be joining the housing market, weighing the pros and cons of cash ISAs and bonds to reinvest money to pay off debts, investigating what kind of surround sound system you could feasibly install as to not piss off your neighbours and yet not compromising on the movie-watching experience the two of you will have on your ROMANTIC nights in. It's very convoluted and clever, I was quietly impressed at some of the things I'd heard men getting up to to look after their darlings, like booking dinner for nights when she was too tired to cook, because it seemed like a good way to unwind. Good way to throw away a good dinner reservation too. Ooops!
3. Just 'cos we like tripartite lists.
This isn't so much of a theory, as it is an unresolved mystery. We still can't figure out if endowment is related to height. There does indeed seem to be a good mix of results, and err, as long as "it's not size that counts, it's what you DO with it!" we are more than happy to go about our business in a care-free and jovial manner. We then used many food related analogies, e.g. "I'd rather have a very satisfying main meal than a drawn out 3 course affair of tiny portions, or you'd never be quite sure how much you actually had!" and then things got very drunk and hazy, and before we knew it we were singing..something.. on our way to...somewhere.
Darn those cocktails.
aaaaand adding to my good mood: I FINALLY GOT A NEW PHONE! I was squealing like a pig in mud when it was delivered this morning, I've had more than enough grief from my crapberry, and it has since been resigned to position as Luke's teether. Unless his sister can make it behave, in which case she can have it to bbm her classmates during first period maths.
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| Isn't he getting big now? |
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| He's learned to pull this face when people are laughing, it only makes us laugh harder and smushhislittlechubbycheeksinyoucutie!! |
