Most Women Are, In Fact, Women

Her name is Emmanuelle Vaugier. I can't pronounce her name. And that doesn't really bother me that much at this stage of the relationship.




Daisy left me the following message on myspace yesterday:

thursday, january 12, 2006. it is now monday, january 23, 2006. that is eleven days.

Rev. Rob replied to Daisy:

I know it's been a while and I know I need to write. But first I have to get the knot in my head un-tied.

The question of the week from the vast majority of my friends and enemies who know and love/secretly loathe me:

So how are things going with Candy Girl?

So on my Oreo-colored stallion, your hero/possible bastard arrives in time to answer your question:

Good. Or at least, it's possible it's good. Don't know now.

There really isn't much more to tell than that. Nor should there be. It's been a week.

I have felt the bad urges to enjoy things too much and fall prey to that sickness called premature optimism. But for the most part, I've stuck to my superhappygoodstrong philosophy characterized by just enjoying each time we see one another. And I believed that we were on the same page. And maybe we are. But she said something.

Something. Sigh. Why does "something" always have to fuck up "good"?

"I just want you to know that I've been amazed at how good all of this has been," she said. "But sometimes when I feel like things are going really well, I have a tendency to run."

"Run?"

"Not like end things. Just consciously distance myself. I start to act distant. I don't want to lose myself in someone."

"Uh huh."

I once again reiterated a few key things to Candy Girl:

1. We've only been seeing each other for a week.
2. I don't want to put you in a position to feel like you need to "run".
3. I'm really just looking for someone to hang out with, make out with, watch movies with, talk music with.
4.

Number four is what I left blank. She seemed reassured enough, so I didn't say number four. But just because I didn't say it, doesn't mean it's not there. Oh, number four is certainly in fucking attendance.

4. Things have been going really great and we've just been enjoying each other's company. Why did you have to fucking say something like that which causes me and you to have to think and acknowledge an "end"? It was what it was and "it" was really fucking "good". Shit!

But I kept all this in. To say number four would have merely created a more complicated situation than a week-long thing merits. And then I'd be a huge fucking hypocrite. Of course, this didn't stop us from leaving the IHOP we were at and going back to my place and making out--you know, so we could just ignore everything that had been said and unsaid. Ah yes an enjoyable, if only a temporary, solution.

There are shades of the infamous Granite popping up here. I was hoping she was a girl and I could be a boy and it could all be easy--at least for a little while. But most women are, in fact, women.

And just as I began writing this, a text message from Candy Girl arrived like clockwork:

"Hope your day wasn't too grueling...I have a hectic week ahead so I may be M.I.A for a bit. Safe travels this week."

Let the distance begin. I called her after receiving this message and she let me know that she'd call in a few days. Whatever. I think she's a prophet! This girl has a tremendous amount of potential to be something special. But she also has an equally galling potential to be everything I've sworn off in terms of the women I want in my life.

Vince Vaughn, one of my most poignant moral compasses, may have said it best in his comic masterpiece, "Wedding Crashers":

I apologize to you if I don't seem real eager to jump into a forced awkward intimate situation that people like to call dating. I don't like the feeling. You're sitting there, you're wondering do I have food on my face, am I eating, am I talking too much, are they talking enough, am I interested, I'm not really interested, should I play like I'm interested but I'm not that interested but I think she might be interested but do I want to be interested but now she's not interested? So all of the sudden I'm getting, I'm starting to get interested... And when am I supposed to kiss her? Do I have to wait for the door cause then it's awkward, it's like well goodnight. Do you do like that ass-out hug? Where you like, you hug each other like this and your ass sticks out cause you're trying not to get too close or do you just go right in and kiss them on the lips or don't kiss them at all? It's very difficult trying to read the situation. And all the while you're just really wondering, "Are we gonna get hopped up enough to make some bad decisions? Perhaps play a little game called "just the tip". Just for a second, just to see how it feels?" Or "Ouch, ouch you're on my hair."

Look kids, I haven't totally given up on this girl. But if therapy and the piles of money I've spent to get it have taught me anything, it's how to spot "red flags". The first one is up. That feeling I get when a girl I've only known for a short time does shit to cause me to think about things I shouldn't think about that DON'T have to do with sexual bliss is a feeling that is SO 2005. 2006 is my year. While I'm open to the idea of dating, I'm not open to the idea of having to work for another girl with one foot out the door--especially when after a week there isn't even a door to have one foot out of. And to think, her foot is edging toward the exit BECAUSE she's afraid it's going well. I always wanted a smart girl. But can I have one that isn't such a thinker?



Album of the Week: "First Impressions of Earth"

Artist: The Strokes

Song Highlights: "You Only Live Once", "Juicebox", "Razorblade", "Vision of Division", "Ize of the World"








Song of the Day: "Oh Comely"

Artist: Neutral Milk Hotel

Album: "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea"

Lyric of Possible Relevance:

"And will she remember me 50 years later?
I wished I could save her in some sort of time machine.
Know all your enemies.
We know who our enemies are."