four weeks

Today was the day I told her.

I knew much earlier, but today, four weeks afterwards, I spoke the words.

I am taking care, lately, not to over-reach myself with words. With work, school, friends, or her.



But I am certain. And I told her so.

Three weeks in October

If you don't write it down, it never happened.

I learned this after undergrad, but before grad school, from Tom Clancy of all people.

In his book "Debt of Honor" Clancy paints a picture of a country in crisis; one of many looming problems is a broken market system. Bad guys attacked the servers that kept records of trades on the NYSE. All of them, including backups, for an entire afternoon.

The main character's wife, a surgeon, remarked off handedly during the crisis that as a doc she had far too many things to keep track of in her head. "If you don't write it down, it never happened," she states, regarding her own notes. The main character sees this as a way out of the huge financial crisis. Everyone just picks up from the last recorded trade as if nothing happened.

At this very moment, I am getting a strong vibe of art imitating life.

I've referred to Tammy here and there in various online venues ( as well as real life, of course ), and hinted at our relationship. That's over now, or rather, we're "back" to being what we were before, I guess. This happened last night, but I've known for a few days it was a conversation we were going to have.

I bounced by her blog today, and noticed something. She hadn't mentioned Her & I once, there. In and of itself this doesn't really mean a thing. But somethings she had mentioned, last night, bring the absence of her and I in written-down-form into sharp relief.

For my part, I am clearing up any ambiguity, on my end:

For three weeks in October, I was involved with a girl named Tammy, and happier than I have been in quite a while; this was despite reluctance on both of our parts to go "all in". She is many things a partner should be, and any man would be very lucky to have her.

Regardless of what she thinks or says.

three women

Not counting a few women who's attractiveness serve as signposts on my drive through life, there are three women shining as bright stars in the constellation of my life, right now.

Olympia
Strong, fragile, educated and very narrow of view at times. She is amazing, and has a powerful hold on me in some ways. She lives far away, and we don't talk much, yet I can see myself with her in the most fundamental and lasting ways. If she were a musical instrument, she'd be a harp. She is sad and tragic at the moment, and I miss her. She feels at once more part of my soul, and less, than the other two. I dated her, for a short time, and think about the day where it might be possible to do it again.

Sharess
Wild and a fellow wanderer, I've known her for the longest of the three. She's sensual, compassionate, and very good at board games. She's fit as hell, though nowhere near as fit as Olympia. She lives her life out of the mold, and I love that about her. She lives about a hundred dollars away; a long, nice weekend. She is a violin. About a year ago, after talking things through with her, I decided to pursue Olympia. Sharess has an untamed look, and though she has a very conservative type job, doesn't "do" conservative naturally. She and I are the most alike, out of the three. I also dated her for a short time, and as far as I know was the only guy to ever break up with her. We found each other again, after many years walking different paths.   

Chloe
The only blonde I've ever considered dating since my first college girlfriend. I've known her for almost ten years, though not as long as Sharess. During that time I've always felt as if we were circling one another, drawing close, but not together for various reasons. She lives close, and has always been exceedingly alluring to me for many reasons. She's a diamond, convinced she's not. If she were a musical instrument, she'd be a sensual saxophone. I interact with her regularly in a non-dating sort of way, and I am looking to change this. Chloe is very particular about how she dresses, and puts effort into her look. I am more different from her than the other two, but in ways that are all attractive to me.

All of them are stop-traffic attractive. None of them watch TV. They are for the most part apolitical, and they all probably trust more than they should. They all have problem forming long term relationships with men. All of them are sexually adventurous, and enjoy being touched. All three are amazingly different from one another. They might not get along, though they could be cordial to one another. I fell like I could be partners with all of them, that I would be extremely lucky to be partnered with any of them.   

Could you hit me over the head, please?

"Oh, so do you usually have women throw themselves at you?"

Someone recently asked me this. No, as it happens, women dont generally throw themselves at me. Because of how I am, how I grew up and all that, I look for signs. Body language, a reaching out, something said. Stuff like that. I generally do not make the "first move". I wait for women to throw themselves at me. Well, kind of.

When I was young, a sophomore in high school, I was much geekier then I am now, or even then I was back when you and I first met, whenever that was. I also didnt have an amazing amount of confidence when it came to girls. One time on the bus, I screwed up my geek-nerve, and asked a girl out. Dawn Baccini. She was hot in a 1984, big-hair kind of way, and she was a freshman, ripe for the plucking.

Id never asked anyone out before. I was terrified. Up to that point, the only real experience Id had with women was a long make-out session with a neighbor girl when we were in first grade, and then in third grade the sister of a friend who loved to show me her, well, you know.

After third grade, there was a bit of a dry spell. Until sophomore year high school. But there I was, a sophomore, in between 2nd period Typing and 3rd period Spanish. I have no idea what compelled me to do it, there in the hall, with witnesses.

I had no plan; no car, no license, no idea of what to do... just that I wanted to do it, with her. I was crazed with adolescent fervor. So I blurted it out, and she smiled, nervous, and said yes.

That next day, our relationship came to a spectacular, tragic end. We rode the bus together. Well, rather, we rode on the same bus. But given my bravado and display of raw nerve and manliness the previous day, I felt a change was in order. She got on the bus, and sat in the seat ahead of me, instead of next to me.

I was puzzled. Vexed. Why not sit next to me? Was I not A Man, a Colossus, striding the earth?

"Hi Dawn," I mumbled, feeling much more confident then I sounded. She turned around and said hi, and looked at me as if waiting for me to say something. I cant remember the exact words I used, but they were something to the effect of "since youre my girlfriend, why dont you sit next to me?"

An aside, here. Im not sure what part of the brain is responsible for this, but I think we all have an uncanny knack for sensing when a Record Needle Moment happens. Such a moment occurs when, if there were music playing in the background somewhere, as if in a movie, the action onscreen unfolds in such a way that a Record Needle Moment takes place. As if to accent the abrupt and heart-stopping shift of cosmic forces that just occurred, a sound of a record needle can be heard dragging across an album, the very album playing the music in the background of the scene. Now after that soul-distorting sound, a pervasive, heavy silence fills the area. Such a silence could be physically worn, as a blanket. Everyone in the scene ( or in my case, on the bus ) is looking at the main characters. Focused with intent so sharp, its as if they were all trying to melt my head with their heat vision.

I had such thoughts, as a high school sophomore.

Anyway, it was a Record Needle Moment. The music stopped, and despite her being a Freshman, and me being something akin to Pharaoh in my own mind, she said with perfect clarity so everyone on the bus could hear:

"Just because I said Id go out, doesnt mean Im your girlfriend."

There was some laughter, some pointing. Im sure my face turned as red as my hair, which was pretty red, at the time. I sat my no-longer-Pharaoh ass back down in my seat, and began working in earnest on my next dry spell.

One that would carry me to halfway through Junior year, when at last the pendulum would begin its swing, and I would Walk the Way and ascend to become the incarnation of Catcher Block, Ladies Man, Mans Man, Man about Town.

Or something like that. : )~

Anyway, Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked He's so mad, but he won't give up that Easy...

Sorry, Channeling Eminem there, for a moment. Back to the present, as I was shaped by such things in my past, I have a tendency to take a very subtle approach to getting close to women. This has developed into what a friend of mine calls the Logic Mac, another naming the same mojo the Jedi Mind Trick. Basically, I am as witty, charming, personable, compassionate and curious as I can be. This is normal for me, and requires no acting or posturing on my part. It is simply who I am.

As many, many men are idiots, over time ( sometimes an afternoon, sometimes a bit longer ) the Logic Mac overcomes my inherent nerdiness, chunkiness, paleness, or whatever, and I start getting signs that someone I am interested in is in fact interested in me as well. "We should go out some time," or "You should come over and see my new bikini," or "If you spanked me, would you tease me, or really whack me hard like my Daddy did?" being just a sampling of how things have gone, in the past.

I wait. I dont ask first, I dont press myself. I just act normal, show my interest, and wait for things to take their natural course. Not rocket science, and not exactly a foolproof plan, but its worked well enough for me over time, and I have very rarely been in a position where I mis-stepped. I don't generally take risks, I wait for things to become obvious, then I take a step or two.

The vision of the Bus Incident still looms in my unconscious somewhere, Im sure. Dont assume. Dont take flying risks. I do sleep, but still, the dreams come.

The lambs are still screaming.

Lately Ive undergone quite a change. It might not seem like much to some, but for me, its epic. The older I get, the less I care, and the more bold I get.

So far, this seems to be working out well. No Record Needle Moments, lately.

Nor have I had women throwing themselves at me, exactly, but I am getting a much better understanding of my position in the universe; as far as relationships and interaction and my personality go. They ( women, chicks, girls, and so on ) are not at the center of things. I myself am not at the center of things. But we seem to do a complex and elegant little dance.

And like orbital mechanics, if you take the time to pay attention and do a little math, certain wonders reveal themselves.


Did I just compare getting together with someone to studying orbital mechanics?


Jesus. : )

Look for a blog entry visioning the dance of the hookup through Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion.