unlovelies

Have you ever noticed that the person everyone wants to be friends with doesn’t need (or want) more friends?

Have you ever noticed the person who really needs friends seemingly does everything to push people away from him?

In school, it might just look silly or reinforce the cast system displayed in Saved by the Bell or Can’t Buy Me Love.  For most of us, we use people’s oddities or personality or sin or hygiene as an excuse not to love them.  And often it seems that the people who are so hard to love are hard to love on purpose.  “The degree of one’s power to estrange will increase in direct proportion to the depth of need for others,” writes Franz Wright.  {Yet another nugget from God’s Silence}

Of course I think of Chesterton:  “Love means to love that which is unlovable; or it is no virtue at all.”

Cinco de Mayo!

I found this in my drafts.  I offer you this today, even though it’s ocho de junio…which does not sound like a holiday at all. 

In honor of the Mexican independence, I give you a couple stories about David. (He is Costa Rican, so you pronounce his name Dah-veed.)

Episode #1: Linda
I met David one evening, and he asked for my phone number. I’m sure Theresa spurred me on to give it to him, and then he said, “I’m sorry, what is your name? I forget.”

Well, Theresa gave him a hard time about that one. So I didn’t have to. The next morning, I got a text message that read, “Buenos dias, Linda.” I was irrate. It is one thing to forget someone’s name when you first meet them. It is another to ask, get made fun of for forgetting, and then forget again and use the wrong name in a direct address. ooo I was hot.

I steamed all of this to my dear Lauren, and she did not seem steamed at all. I rephrased what happened. She said something to the effect of, “Well, he’s hispanic.” And I can’t see what that has to do with him calling me by the wrong name. Lauren responds, “Well, you’re pretty.” What does that have to do with anything? The point is my name is not LINDA! Lauren, as cool as a cucumber just informs me that linda means pretty in Spanish.

oh.

Episode #2: You like me.

David and I went to dinner at TGIFridays. We waded through Spanglish all night in order to communicate. And towards the end of the meal, he looks at me seriously and starts the following conversation (please read all the DAVID parts with a Latino accent in your head):

DAVID: I just want to know. …You like me.
ANNA: um. I think you are nice. I mean, I don’t really know you that well. But I think you are nice.
DAVID: No, eees not a question. You like me.
ANNA: Right. um. Yes, I like you, but like I said, I don’t know you all THAT well. But I do like you.
DAVID: No, no, no.  eees not a question.  You don’t have to say anytheeeng.  [Add the appropriate gesture, with an open handed point to you and me]  You like me.
ANNA:  yeah.  Like I said I know, I like.  But …  I’m just saying…
DAVID:  [exasperated] No.  Eeees not a question.
ANNA:  ok.  You are saying, [pedantically slowly, keeping the chosen gestures] “You like me.”   yes? 
DAVID:  YES!
ANNA:  [smiling] ok.  All I’m saying is that I–[suddenly realizing that Dahveed is making a declaration of like--only he has his subject and object transposed]

Episode #3:  Back off.

I had seen David twice, maybe three times.  And he was very affectionate.  I understand that culturally Latin Americans are more touchy than Northern Americans, but I couldn’t handle it.  Also, he would make extravagant love claims, either with a sweet name (mi amor) or in Spanish.  (saying he loved me in Spanish…or maybe I just had my subject and object mixed up)  So I tried to explain to him that those words mean something different to the both of us.  I mean, you just can’t go around saying you love someone when you very first meet them.  And he was trying to explain how I was the most amazing woman in America (Has he met most of the women in America?  How does he know?) and the differences of our cultures and how it wasn’t that big of a deal–whilst incessantly touching my right limbs.  Since he wasn’t taking my suggestions, I was clear and frank:

ANNA:  [removing his hand from my knee]  You can. not. touch. me all the time.
DAHVEED:  [looking wounded] I am not trying to make sex with you.  I just—

And I don’t know what else he said because I was trying not to laugh at his mixed up idiom.

Girl Disappointed in Love

by Karol Wojtyla

With mercury we measure pain
as we measure the heat of bodies and air;
but this is not how to discover our limits–
you think you are the center of things.
If you could only grasp that you are not:
the center is He,
and He, too, finds no love–
why don’t you see?
The human heart–what is it for?
Cosmic temperature.  Heart.  Mecury.

Guess who Karol Wojtyla is.

I have not outgrown faerie tales.

     

I know I am so passed the prime of writing about the Twilight series, but I must opinionize. 

Stephanie Meyer sucked me in from the beginning; she pushed and twisted the plot so that I could not put down my book.  I had to keep reading.  And I have to say, it is quite an accomplishment to make vampires and werewolves not just palatable, but desirable.  I wanted to be a part of this crazy, supernatural world. 

However, when I put the books down and forced myself back to the real world, there was nothing for me here that compared.  There is no Edward.  I don’t get to change myself into a goddess on earth.  The Twilight world offers escape, but no substantive commentary on my world.

Stephanie Meyer’s immortal characters prove insipid and weak–though they are virtually unable to be harmed.  Particularly Edward.  He is strong and protects and provides for Bella.  He unceasingly and increasingly loves her.  She becomes his goddess, since he has no soul and answers to no other god.  The thing he loves most about Bella is her love for him.  She is his reason for being; and without her, he could not go on.   

Where is his flaw?  What does he have to overcome to get her?  Nothing!  She selfishly “gives up” her humanity in exchange for eternal existence as a vampire.  There is not conflict outside of her humanity. 

Ok.  I’m this normal girl who somehow the universe has ordered this amazing, unattainable guy to be attracted to me (or the smell of my blood, whatever).  All I have to do to get him is become a vampire?  …I’ve made a note.

So if I come to terms with the too-perfect man loving the selfish girl (If you think that’s harsh, review all the choices Bella makes.), I still was unsatisfied with the ending.  I need justice.  The Volturi deserve desolation.  They kill Irina for no good reason.  And they are obviously power mongers who manipulate and use vampires.  I’m proud of Carlisle trying to win with words, but the Volturi do not concede and turn from their ways.  At the end of 2 or 300 pages of build up to this terrible battle, and the reader is preparing for the dear vampires to be burned, for terror and desolation to ruin the century, for Nessie to be left without a mother and to be raised by wolves…

The Volturi walk away. 

And the Cullens know that they will have to deal with the Volturi some other day.  This is not over.  There is still danger.  The Cullens and all of those witnesses are left to die another day. 

I realize that I just went on about what these books lack, but they are entertaining.  They might verge on supersoap operatic, but I sure did read all four.  They were fun.

Going the Rounds: a sort of love poem

I took a compilation of poetry with me to read while I got my oil changed.  I like this one: 

Some people cannot endure
Looking down from the parapet atop the Empire State
Or the Statue of Liberty–they go limp, insecure,
The vertiginous height hums to their numbered bones
Some homily on Fate;
Neither virtue past nor vow to be good atones

To the queasy stomach, the quick,
Involuntary softening of the bowels.
“What goes up must come down,” it hums: the ultimate, sick
Joke of Fortuna. The spine, the world vibrates
With terse, ruthless avowals
From “The Life of More”, “A Mirror For Magistrates.”

And there are heights of spirit.
And one of these is love. From way up here,
I observe the puny view, without much merit,
Of all my days. High on the house are nailed
Banners of pride and fear.
And that small wood to the west, the girls I have failed.

It is, on the whole, rather glum:
The cyclone fence, the tar-stained railroad ties,
With, now and again, surprising the viewer, some
Garden of selflessness or effort. And, as I must,
I acknowledge on this high rise
The ancient metaphysical distrust.

But candor is not enough,
Nor is it enough to say that I don’t deserve
Your gentle, dazzling love, or to be in love.
That goddess is remorseless, watching us rise
In all our ignorant nerve,
And when we have reached the top, putting us wise.

My dear, in spite of this,
And the moralized landscape down there below,
Neither of which might seem the ground for bliss,
Know that I love you, know that you are most dear
To one who seeks to know
How, for your sake, to confront his pride and fear.

                                by Anthony Hecht

Am I on Candid Camera?

A quick note about one of the characters before you begin:  TOPHER is 85% deaf in his left ear. 

Scene ~ in a car, on the way home from a movie.  TOPHER has just brought up ”the conversation from earlier this week.” 

TOPHER:  I just want to know your thoughts.

ME: Right, well I was pretty forthright the other night.

TOPHER:  What do you expect from this relationship?

a long uncomfortable pause – maybe for TOPHER, but not for ME

ME:  Quite frankly, I expect you to go back to your exgirlfriend.

TOPHER:  I’m not going to go back to her. 

ME:  Really?

TOPHER:  I mean, if she calls and wants to go to dinner, like an idiot, I’ll probably go.

ME:  That’s comforting.

TOPHER:  I’m sorry.

silence

ME:  You’ll need to be in the right lane.

TOPHER:  I’m trying to do the right thing.  I hope I’ll do the right thing.

ME:  No, you need to be in the right LANE.

TOPHER:  Oh.  What are you thinking?

ME:  Turn right here at this next street.  Then left at the stop sign.  This is my house. 

they pull into the driveway, and TOPHER holds out his hand as if ME is supposed to hold it.

TOPHER:  I don’t want to lead you on.  I don’t know that I can give you everything.  I want hang out with you.  I want to date you.  I like being around you. 

ME:  I think we are to old to date for fun. 

TOPHER:  Anna, you are 25.

ME:  Yes I am.  And if you want to just date to have fun, don’t buy a girl flowers and be romantical and talk about a relationship on the 2nd date. 

TOPHER:  I thought things would be different.  I didn’t know my exgirlfriend would be an issue. 

ME:  I’m sorry she is.  I’m sorry for you.  I wish you could get over her.  I know it’s hard.  I think everyone’s fallen for someone else, and the feelings weren’t reciprocated.  But you have to get passed it.  I’m not the girl to help you get passed it. 

TOPHER:  I didn’t mean to get you involved in all this.  What are you thinking?

ME:  I’m thinking I should have known you were too good to be true. 

TOPHER:  What do you mean? 

ME:  I categorize most guys that try to date me as  jerks.  You aren’t necessarily a jerk, but you are in love with another woman.  That’s not cool.  Whether you mean to make me feel like this or not, it makes me feel like I’m your second choice.  I won’t be anyone’s second choice. 

TOPHER:  Have you ever run through a scenario in your head before it happens?  I thought you might bring that up.  I don’t really have a response to that.  I’m sorry I made you feel like that. 

ME:  Yeah, but it’s not okay.  I refuse to wonder if you are having dinner with her or talking to her on the phone or wishing you were kissing her instead of me.  I’ve never been the jealous type.  If you don’t want to be with me, don’t be.

TOPHER:  That was never the case.  I never wished I were with her when I was with you.

ME:  But what about when you aren’t in my presence?  I won’t fight for your attention. 

TOPHER:  I’m sorry I put you in this position.  I wish I were over her too. 

ME:  Does this story sound familiar?  …Once upon a time, there was this beautiful and multi-talented princess.  As she was walking through a field one day, a knight in shining armor rode up to her and asked for directions.  Finding that she was a princess, he said, “Fair princess, I have been on a quest to return with a princess bride.  The one I was sent after is locked in a high tower, and I am unable to reach her; so I’ll take you with me instead.  Hop on my trusty steed.”  And they rode into the sunset and lived happily ever after.

ME realized that this was a bit ridiculous and should have been kept at the gate of her mouth, but proceeded with

Since you can’t have her, you’ll take me?  …until she decides she wants you?  No thank you.  That is an offer I can refuse.  I know you aren’t over her.  I know you wish you were, but I just can’t be mixed up in all that. 

Again, TOPHER holds out his hand like ME is supposed to hold it, but instead she shakes his hand heartily and says

Nice to meet you Chris       tuffur.  Topher, nice to meet you. 

TOPHER:  Can I call you?  Can we at least just hang out. 

ME:  I don’t think that’s a good idea. 

TOPHER:  Sorry.

ME:  Goodnight.  Thank you for dinner and the movie. 

[CURTAIN]

A practical list of don’ts for you…

I recently went on this date, and remembered why I hate dating.  I wish it were a list like Laurey’s:  “Don’t throw bouquets at me …Don’t laugh at my jokes to much…” 

Instead of a short narrative of the evening (since that would probably embarass Nurl*), I will give a quick list of don’ts you should check before taking a girl –especially this girl– on a date. 

1.   Don’t ask me to dinner and not have a plan.  I appreciate the concideration of what I like.  But when I say, “I hate making those kinds of decisions,” I mean I really hate making those decisions.  Be a man.  Have a plan.

2.  Don’t ask me questions during dinner that should only appear on an FBI employment application.  Or any other whacky questions like, “What is the best compliment you ever received?” 

3.  Don’t think that the whole world is as interested in you as you are.  After an hour and a half of someone asking questions about you, it’s time to find out something about the other person.

4.  Don’t “check in” through out the date to see how you are doing.   If you have to ask if you are entertaining enough or cute enough or suave enough, you probably aren’t.

5.  Don’t assume there will be a second date.  You know what assuming does…  Don’t tell me you could help me get fit.  Don’t tell me I could discuss whatever I don’t want to discuss now on our next date.   Don’t order me to loosen up, and act like you know all my Annaisms and the depths of my soul. 

I’m pledging:  No more dates with strangers.

*Nurl is a fictionized name. 

PS – Adrienne, Nurl is from Auburn, AL.  Not Nebraska.