Yay! The weekend is here! Although, I don't really do a whole lot on weekdays, so there's no difference. My days are just a blur of massive procrastination. It takes real work, you know. If I could find a job where all I'd have to do would be to waste time, I'd be damn good at it. And I'm good at convincing people that whatever tasks they have to do are really worthless, to get them to join me in my wasting of time.
Awhile back, I did a handwriting analysis, using this very handy website which I'd link to, but I forget what it was called. In essence, you write a paragraph down, and then compare it to samples on the website, clicking on similar characteristics (ie, are your 'I's bigger than other letters in your sentence? Do you cross your 't's? Where do you cross them? What kind of cross is it? etcetc). And part of my analysis was this:
How true that is. Scarily true. Here I am, I've been in this relationship for .. oh my, approaching a year and a half (which is an eternity for me, usually it was 2 weeks, you're out.. or, we'd never actually date, per se, but rather just hook up for several years - non-exclusively, of course), and I'm still acting as if we had just gotten together.
The funny thing is that this "power struggle" (or game playing, depending on who you talk to) is all entirely in my head. I'm sure stinkyhead (which is how I affectionately refer to him behind his back.. either that, or stupidhead, or crankypants, because I am *that mature) has no idea that this is going on, and is acting like the oblivious male that he is. We talk, about 2-3 times a week, which is quite enough for me because nothing exciting ever really happens to me, and I don't think I could listen to him talk about how much reading he has to do for law school every day.
But he's always been much more secure in the relationship than I've been. He started calling me his girlfriend about a month after we started dating.. and I just freaked out - behind his back, of course. It took me another eight months before I would refer to him as my boyfriend to anyone. He was just always, "the guy I'm dating," "the guy I'm currently seeing," "the guy I fly to visit" (since our relationship yes, is long-distance.). And I am absolutely convinced that some day, he'll run off with his trampy blonde paralegal, like Joe sort of did to Sally on When Harry Met Sally. (I should stop applying that movie, and also Sex and the City to my life. It's not very healthy. )
And he's been nothing but great to me. We've only really had two arguments, and generally get along marvelously. We have just enough of the same interests to be compatible, but aren't exact clones so it doesn't get boring. He challenges me like nobody has, and indulges me just enough. He even knows when I'm being sarcastic (95% of the time) and finds it amusing, and eventually gets it when I'm being serious. And he can banter right back (though he's just not that good with sarcasm, but he tries..). There is no reason for me to be this paranoid and insecure. Who knows what's wrong with me. It's not that I've ever even really been burned in the past - but perhaps, I've never let anyone get close enough to me to be burned.
Anyway, why is this all coming up? I just got off the phone with him, having spent an hour just blabbing about stuff. Sounds rather normal - except for the fact that we *never spent that much time on the phone ever. Usually getting 20 minutes out of him is a feat. So rather than thinking that he just wants to talk - I mean, the last time we had a phone conversation this long, it was him freaking out about stuff and wanting to take a break, the bastard, just because I talk about marriage doesn't mean that I want to get hitched right this moment - obviously, he's sick and feverish.
Sometimes I just give him too little credit. Because I can. And because it makes me feel more secure, in some twisted, most likely unhealthy, way.
On another, completely unrelated, note, It Must Have Been Something I Ate: The Return of the Man who Ate Everything, by Jeffrey Steingarten, whom I simply adore, is finally out in paperback! (Don't like hardbacks, they take up too much room and are too heavy to hold up in bed.) First stop tomorrow: the bookstore, so I can pick it up.
Awhile back, I did a handwriting analysis, using this very handy website which I'd link to, but I forget what it was called. In essence, you write a paragraph down, and then compare it to samples on the website, clicking on similar characteristics (ie, are your 'I's bigger than other letters in your sentence? Do you cross your 't's? Where do you cross them? What kind of cross is it? etcetc). And part of my analysis was this:
Interesting... You checked that your writing has "noticeable, pointy-like hooks in the lower case letters c, d, or a. This "stinger" indicates a love-hate relationship with strong members of the opposite sex.
It's funny, even though you have a compelling attraction towards these strong individuals, you often create little challenges throughout the relationship to test their strength. In dating, you love the chase, but often get bored once you capture your prey.
How true that is. Scarily true. Here I am, I've been in this relationship for .. oh my, approaching a year and a half (which is an eternity for me, usually it was 2 weeks, you're out.. or, we'd never actually date, per se, but rather just hook up for several years - non-exclusively, of course), and I'm still acting as if we had just gotten together.
Why hasn't he called me yet?
Why hasn't he sent a response to my email in two entire days?
I'm not calling him, I'm waiting for him to call me first.
He'll call me when he wants to talk to me.
We'll see who can hold out longer.
The funny thing is that this "power struggle" (or game playing, depending on who you talk to) is all entirely in my head. I'm sure stinkyhead (which is how I affectionately refer to him behind his back.. either that, or stupidhead, or crankypants, because I am *that mature) has no idea that this is going on, and is acting like the oblivious male that he is. We talk, about 2-3 times a week, which is quite enough for me because nothing exciting ever really happens to me, and I don't think I could listen to him talk about how much reading he has to do for law school every day.
But he's always been much more secure in the relationship than I've been. He started calling me his girlfriend about a month after we started dating.. and I just freaked out - behind his back, of course. It took me another eight months before I would refer to him as my boyfriend to anyone. He was just always, "the guy I'm dating," "the guy I'm currently seeing," "the guy I fly to visit" (since our relationship yes, is long-distance.). And I am absolutely convinced that some day, he'll run off with his trampy blonde paralegal, like Joe sort of did to Sally on When Harry Met Sally. (I should stop applying that movie, and also Sex and the City to my life. It's not very healthy. )
And he's been nothing but great to me. We've only really had two arguments, and generally get along marvelously. We have just enough of the same interests to be compatible, but aren't exact clones so it doesn't get boring. He challenges me like nobody has, and indulges me just enough. He even knows when I'm being sarcastic (95% of the time) and finds it amusing, and eventually gets it when I'm being serious. And he can banter right back (though he's just not that good with sarcasm, but he tries..). There is no reason for me to be this paranoid and insecure. Who knows what's wrong with me. It's not that I've ever even really been burned in the past - but perhaps, I've never let anyone get close enough to me to be burned.
Anyway, why is this all coming up? I just got off the phone with him, having spent an hour just blabbing about stuff. Sounds rather normal - except for the fact that we *never spent that much time on the phone ever. Usually getting 20 minutes out of him is a feat. So rather than thinking that he just wants to talk - I mean, the last time we had a phone conversation this long, it was him freaking out about stuff and wanting to take a break, the bastard, just because I talk about marriage doesn't mean that I want to get hitched right this moment - obviously, he's sick and feverish.
Sometimes I just give him too little credit. Because I can. And because it makes me feel more secure, in some twisted, most likely unhealthy, way.
On another, completely unrelated, note, It Must Have Been Something I Ate: The Return of the Man who Ate Everything, by Jeffrey Steingarten, whom I simply adore, is finally out in paperback! (Don't like hardbacks, they take up too much room and are too heavy to hold up in bed.) First stop tomorrow: the bookstore, so I can pick it up.
posted at 18:20
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