You're not the boss of me!

Text message sent to boyfriend: "I'm feeling the urge to get dressed up and be wooed. You should do something about that."
Text received from boyfriend: "How about an early showing of Speed Racer?"

*sigh*

In all fairness, this isn't exactly the way this exchange went down, but for the sake of simplicity I thought I would boil it down to its essence. Sweet D wants to wear a pretty dress and have a romantic dinner, drink a little wine, and have crazy sex. The Gipester wants to see a brightly-colored, seizure-inducing, vaguely homoerotic action flick based on a Japanese cartoon. (Ed. Note: It was actually pretty entertaining).
Since I have made the decision to become a Mrs. once again, I have been wondering about what causes this disconnect.

I thought that the rule with men was, if you want to do something, tell them. Don't expect them to read your mind. If you want to go to the movies, say, "I want to go to the movies." 6 guys out of 10 will say "Okay," simply because they are so relieved that they don't have to have the "I don't know, what do you want to do" conversation. I'm convinced this is how most straight men ended up at the Sex and the City movie...

But then, there's the last 4 guys. They are "the Divorced Guys" or "DGs" for short. DGs are fabulous for the most part. They have been in a committed relationship, they know how they work. They aren't squeamish when it comes time to talk about birth control or menstrual cramps. They have seen it all and for the most part a DG is a great catch. Plus, they make up a huge portion of the dating pool once you get to be about 27 years old.

But here's the thing, DGs don't like to be told what to do.
Ever.
They don't even like to think that you might possibly be telling them what to do.

So, when Sweet D thinks she's saying, "I love you and I want us to spend some romantic couple time together that doesn't involve eating dinner on the couch in my sweatpants." The Gipester hears, "Put on a tie and spend some of your hard-earned money on me. If you don't I will make you suffer. You hear me, bitch? SUFFER!"

So, Speed Racer it is...

Anyway, after the romance vs. action movie thing, I started to notice a very distinct pattern in our conversations. Three moments stick out in my head.

Moment 1: Dinner
G: So, where do you want to have dinner?
D: Give me a couple of options.
G: Chipotle or Noodles and Company.
D: Chipotle sounds good.
G: Let's go to Noodles and Company.
D: Okay.

Moment 2: Movies
G: Which one of the Netflix movies should we watch?
D: I've really been wanting to see movie A. (So sue me, I can't remember the movie titles. That isn't really the point is it?)
G: Let's watch movie B.
D: Okay.

Moment 3: Wedding rings (Ed. Note: He's making these rings, they are going to be fabulous, I have no problem with them whatsoever, but again, that isn't really the point.)
G: So, what do we think? White or yellow gold?
D: They're both beautiful. Hmm. I think I like the white gold better.
G: Let's go with the yellow gold.
D: Okay.

Now, the reason these moments stick out at all is because they all happened within a week or so of each other. Is this struggle of the recently engaged DG to hold on to his independence? Or is he simply a man who prefers pasta to burritos on any given night? I have no idea. That's why I'm asking you.

Have I mentioned this isn't a scientific study? I have pulled all of these theories right out of my ass. But I teach high school and it's summer vacation, what else am I going to do with my time? Sure, I said I was going to write all of my lesson plans, but really. Have you met me?

So, whatever it is, it comes and goes. We haven't had any of these kinds of conversations in the last three weeks or so, but that doesn't keep me from being curious about them, and really wanting to avoid them in the future.

I am a very laid back kind of girl. Where we eat dinner rarely matters to me, unless I'm really craving something (or not, whatever the case may be), if we have more than one Netflix movie, they will both get watched, the order doesn't matter.

Still, there are things I need from time to time. And they matter, even if they seem kind of trivial. How do you communicate your needs, or even just your wants to someone without them feeling dominated by your desires? Hmm.

Any ideas?

This Moment Is More Precious Than You Think

Over the last few days, I've been presented with a few reminders from the universe that life is short. That the days never stop coming. We are always moving forward, burying (sometimes literally) the scraps of our past.

The phrase, "live life to the fullest," is trite. I hate to use it. Mostly because I have seen more than one good person "live" themselves into an anxiety attack. There is this constant push to always be doing.

Join another community group, take on another project at work, mow the lawn, join a third book club, sign up for another committee at church, try to remember to have sex this month, mow the lawn, make sure the kids are signed up for that second day camp, paint the guest room, MOW THE EFFING LAWN!

I have never really been a joiner. I tried Young Life in high school. Didn't take. Key Club, FBLA, Student Counsel, none of these things appealed. According to my mother, it's because I just don't like people. Okay, in all fairness, what she said was just that I have never been "warm." Which is her way of saying I don't like people.

This isn't true. I like most people. There are people I don't like, but for the most part they're douchebags, so who gives a damn. There is only one person on the planet I don't like who everyone else I know seems to have zero problem with. And she happens to be a sterling example of the psychosis detailed above.

This woman just flat out gives me hives. She just must, must, MUST be in this or that club, or on a committee, or engaged in some kind of activity that reminds us all that we care less about poverty, or women's issues, or politics than she does.

She is the kind of person who will skip her 10-year-old son's soccer game to sit around discussing the issues facing women in wartime Iraq. Are those issues important? Hell, yes. But there are two things to consider: 1) Re-imagining gender roles in the Middle East amounts to little more than intellectual masturbation, especially when you are member of a women's group in northern Colorado and 2) Your son will never, EVER forget that Mommy's meetings are more important than he is. Really. He'll come leaping out of the closet when he's 18 in the hopes that you'll let him march in the gay pride parade with you and whatever committee you're affiliated with that day.

Hey, a gay son is the best possible accessory for a hip socially liberal mommy. Even better than that $200 Patagonia fleece and $300 Danskos you've got on.

Wait. I'm losing my train of thought. Oh, there it is.

My point is that I feel like, as a people, we are losing the ability to just be. To sit for two hours, drink a bottle of red wine with someone we love, and talk about the hypothetical future without constantly checking our cell phones for messages or looking at the clock. No, that kind of frivolity is not tolerated. If you're going to talk with a significant other, you better be arguing about money, or discussing the division of childcare duties. And put that wine away, slackers! How dare you linger over something as trivial as romance when there are meetings to attend!

All of us have some of this in us somewhere, and please don't think that the point of the post is to deride club membership. Joining groups and clubs is a great way to meet people with similar interests and keep our intellects in shape. We just need to also rediscover the beauty in everyday things. Things that don't require meeting attendance. Sitting on metal bleachers, watching 10-year-old boys playing soccer. The smell of blooming Russian Olive trees. The feel of familiar hands. The taste of our favorite foods. The sound of our favorite songs. Just being.

Because here's the thing. The next time you smell those flowers, taste that food, feel those hands, kiss those lips, could be the last time.

Because we are always moving into the future, and there are always things that can't keep up.