Romance in a vacuum
As I sit here with a 20+ page paper deadline looming 14 days hence and having done exactly 0 work for it, I am, of course, thinking about everything else. And what has The Roni, in all of her profound wisdom noticed? A disturbing trend in the way we woo.
It seems that, in yet another installment of Things The Roni Hates About Dating in the Modern Era, we've lost the ability to be wooed. Now, let's break that down a little. What I mean is that women just can't be wooed anymore. We, meaning ladykind, don't know how do be the woo-ees. What worries me is NOT the fact that men can't woo anymore. Maybe they can't. But I don't think the problem is that they can't woo! I think the problem is that we can't let them woo! Indeed, if ladykind were able to sit back and be wooed, maybe men would have a clue about being in the romance driver's seat. But since we are all up in the wooing business, we've obviated the need for men to do the wooing.
I think the problem is that we get too involved and too worried about things turning out how we want, that we can't be the passive recipients of any woo. We meet a boy we like, we can't stop thinking about his cute little dimples and the way he blushed when he asked for your number at that party, we can't work on, oh say a 20 page paper because we're too busy drawing little doodlie hearts with our initials in the middle, that we can't just be. We have to look up his email on LawWeb, we have to send him a witty email about taking him up on his offer to play golf together some time, we have to be the ones to pick a time to get together. We!
And maybe if we didn't take the effort, nothing would happen. Maybe it would fizzle - the thought that keeps us up at night and makes us wish we'd worn the pink strappy top that gives us hot cleave instead of the blue plain one, which, while cute, does not nearly do the justice it could to our sweet rack, or makes us mournfully regretful we'd made that terrible Anchorman reference - who knew he'd think you really meant he smelled like Big Foot's dick. But the point remains, if he wouldn't pursue us if we didn't take the effort, then is it worth trying to pursue him? Maybe by removing our wireless card and, oh, having our roommate hide our cellphones when we've had more than two glasses of pinot, we can really see what's up. We can really see romance in a vacuum. If we let him do what he wants, we can actually see what he wants.
Now, The Roni knows it's hard. Trust me, I'm the last person you'll see sitting on her hands (they're WAY too busy drawing doodlie hearts). But lately I've been looking around, and ALL I see are ladyfriends putting themselves out there. It's like the Pink Mafia is gaming the world. And great - you are lucky men out there who find yourselves the victims of Pink Mafia woo. It's probably the best you'll get. But it makes The Roni wonder, with all these fabulous chicas, why do we have to be the ones to woo?
I feel like the romance Nietzsche - did we kill wooing?
It seems that, in yet another installment of Things The Roni Hates About Dating in the Modern Era, we've lost the ability to be wooed. Now, let's break that down a little. What I mean is that women just can't be wooed anymore. We, meaning ladykind, don't know how do be the woo-ees. What worries me is NOT the fact that men can't woo anymore. Maybe they can't. But I don't think the problem is that they can't woo! I think the problem is that we can't let them woo! Indeed, if ladykind were able to sit back and be wooed, maybe men would have a clue about being in the romance driver's seat. But since we are all up in the wooing business, we've obviated the need for men to do the wooing.
I think the problem is that we get too involved and too worried about things turning out how we want, that we can't be the passive recipients of any woo. We meet a boy we like, we can't stop thinking about his cute little dimples and the way he blushed when he asked for your number at that party, we can't work on, oh say a 20 page paper because we're too busy drawing little doodlie hearts with our initials in the middle, that we can't just be. We have to look up his email on LawWeb, we have to send him a witty email about taking him up on his offer to play golf together some time, we have to be the ones to pick a time to get together. We!
And maybe if we didn't take the effort, nothing would happen. Maybe it would fizzle - the thought that keeps us up at night and makes us wish we'd worn the pink strappy top that gives us hot cleave instead of the blue plain one, which, while cute, does not nearly do the justice it could to our sweet rack, or makes us mournfully regretful we'd made that terrible Anchorman reference - who knew he'd think you really meant he smelled like Big Foot's dick. But the point remains, if he wouldn't pursue us if we didn't take the effort, then is it worth trying to pursue him? Maybe by removing our wireless card and, oh, having our roommate hide our cellphones when we've had more than two glasses of pinot, we can really see what's up. We can really see romance in a vacuum. If we let him do what he wants, we can actually see what he wants.
Now, The Roni knows it's hard. Trust me, I'm the last person you'll see sitting on her hands (they're WAY too busy drawing doodlie hearts). But lately I've been looking around, and ALL I see are ladyfriends putting themselves out there. It's like the Pink Mafia is gaming the world. And great - you are lucky men out there who find yourselves the victims of Pink Mafia woo. It's probably the best you'll get. But it makes The Roni wonder, with all these fabulous chicas, why do we have to be the ones to woo?
I feel like the romance Nietzsche - did we kill wooing?
posted by The Roni at 12:08 PM
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