Women and Men: It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, No?
Jan 27th, 2008 by Renee Michaels
First off, I fell off the wagon with blogging. My life took one of those sudden 180 degree turns, unfortunately, right in the middle of the Week of Positive Blogging, which I couldn’t finish. I had to make some major life decisions, drop everything and turn my 100% focus on them. Ah, life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. Sometimes it’s “yay” and other times it’s “nay.” The nice thing is that eventually, even out of a “nay” situation you can come up with some “yays.”
A big hug and much love to all my fellow blogging friends who wrote and gave me inspiration to get back in gear and move forward again.
I just got a really funny email story (one of those famous “forwards”) from a friend that to me, summed up some of the crap that women and men go through. It all begins with spin:
HER DIARY
Tonight I thought he was acting weird. We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment.Conversation wasn’t flowing so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed but he kept quiet and absent. I asked him what was wrong; he said nothing. I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry. On the way home I told him that I loved him, he simply smiled and kept driving. I can’t explain his behavior; I don’t know why he didn’t say, “I love you too.”
When we got home I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there and watched TV. He seemed distant and absent. Finally, I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed, and to my surprise he responded to my caress and we made love, but I still felt that he was distracted and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep - I cried.
I don’t know what to do. I’m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.
HIS DIARY
Today the Eagles lost, but at least I got laid.
Sound familiar? If the woman isn’t into sports (which isn’t necessarily typical), the man probably felt “Why bother talking about this to her, she doesn’t have a clue and her eyes will glaze over in a heartbeat?” Of course, he probably stopped at “why frikkin’ bother?” (if even that much thought was put into it!) and he has no clue that his silence is stirring up a hornet’s nest of worry, anxiety and mistrust in her that will soon explode and splinter his peaceable kingdom. And he’s thinking, “Shit, I kept my mouth shut, didn’t bother her none with stuff she doesn’t give a damn about, gave her some good lovin’ and she’s pissed off? WTF?!”
Chris Rock has a classic bit about the second most feared question that men ask women, “How was your day, honey?” (The first is “Will you marry me?”):
Plus ça change, plus c’est la meme chose
Man or woman, it’s hard to laser beam that mirror on yourself and see how you’re driving your husband, wife or SO bonkers. I hate to admit it, but I could have won a Tony Award, even several, for my long-running (in all ways) performance in “How Was Your Day, Honey?“—it’s not the reason my husband and I divorced, I swear! I came of age in the wild and woolly ’60s, thought I was a liberated woman, yet found myself playing out stereotypical roles I never dreamed I would be playing. And ditto for the hubby—he played his part to the hilt with glee. We can laugh at it now, but I wouldn’t ever fall into that trap again in a relationship. You start to feel like hamsters on a wheel. Not a good thing.
What amazes me is that as technological innovations relentlessly propel civilization into the future, I still hear the same ‘ol, same ‘ol from both male and female friends, from 20-somethings to 80-somethings, from the devoutly religious to atheists and all those in between.
What really, really amazes me is that given all the communications and other issues between men and women, heterosexuality is as prevalent as it is. Which to me, is the ultimate proof that you are born with your sexual preference. What other explanation could there be?