So I'm blogging while waiting for the download of the Battlefield 2142 demo to finish.
Two events of note this week, relating to women and my association (or lack thereof) with women. Yeah I know, let the poor horse rest in peace but you know, I'm delirious from salsa poisoning.
So the first thing is a comment I read or heard or saw or something this past while. I can't remember the exact words, but it went something like: when a man reaches a certain age, he begins to see all women as beautiful.
I think that's happening to me.
Now I kind of pride myself on not being the kind of guy who bases his opinion of women solely on their looks. Directly opposed to that though is the fact that I am a very, very visual person. Not uncommon for guys, but just the same.
When guys are younger they assess a woman's looks based on the whole package: if there is a "flaw" of some kind, then their entire opinion of her looks goes down. Sort of like making a mistake on a written French exam. Remember those? You start at 100% and lost grades for you mistakes. And there was at least 4707% worth of possible errors per exam.
Now many guys before a certain age - I think I can say not the majority, but certainly a significant minority - are looking for that perfect look, and so any feature that does not match the template destroys the entire image. Or rather, destroys the entire fantasy of the image. For the rest, the situation is almost the same, but with just a higher tolerance level. I've been attracted to the unconventional beauties, but will fully admit to have done the whole French exam methodology.
Somewhere in recent history that completely reversed. Now I find when I'm looking at women, I can pick out those very attractive features and qualities which would be completely ignored by those younger than myself (get off my lawn!) and admire them in and of themselves. A graceful neck, a twinkle in the eye, the way she holds herself, a killer smile and many, many others too numerous to name here.
A part of me wonders though if that change prompts the whole mid-life crisis in guys. You notice all these beautiful women (most of whom you previously wouldn't give a second glance) around. Where the hell did they come from? Well, like I tell women (with no prompting) who think they can't meet a nice guy: you meet them every day! You;re just not attracted to them. So our balding 40-ish male realizes that he missed all this. And is probably not capable of getting their attention if he was single.
Well I am single which brings me to my next little anecdote.
I was sitting in a coffee shop at lunch the other day, reading my book, watching the people go by (and pondering the above) when I saw someone who, although not a conventional beauty, took my breath away. My instant thought was "Wow, I would love to introduce myself to her!".
Then I heard another voice. Not the usual racket going on from my personal Greek Chorus (see "My Name is Legion"). But a new voice. One that whispered from a dark corner.
"She would never talk to you."
"Who the hell is that?" The rest of the voices gave a silent shrug "No seriously, who said that?"
"Me," I could hear the malicious sneer in that one syllable.
"How the hell would you know," all on the defensive, "you've never been here before."
A laugh that sounded like dust being cleared from an old copper pipe made it's way from a dark corner, " Oh, but I have my friend. I've been with you... quite some time."
"Alright," I decided to play along, not because I thought this voice had no power, but because I knew this voice had a power I couldn't yet perceive, "Why do you think she wouldn't want to talk to me?"
That laugh again, except it was the bark of a clog being cleared, "Well, because it's you."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You. Women can tell when men lack confidence, and you, well, we both know your history don't we?" I could hear thin lips being pulled back over needle-like teeth.
"So you're saying women won't talk to me because I lack confidence?"
"Obviously."
"It was you wasn't it?"
"Why whatever do you mean?" that was delivered with the purr of an old and mangy mouser seeing the tail of a small rodent disappear behind a corner.
"I lack confidence, true. But it seems that comes into play after I think I'd like to talk to a girl. And actually decide to." The realization dawned quite suddenly, "You have been with me for a while."
Silence from that corner. The quiet before the pounce or the escape, I wasn't sure.
"The girl from band camp, Leah. The girl at the bus stop having problems with her luggage. Heather, Tracy, Linda, Jacee, Monique, Lee, Alexandra, all of them! Every time I thought I should take a chance but backed down! Every time it was time to take a small risk for the potential of a great reward it was you whispering in my ear, telling me I wasn't good enough. Or handsome enough or fun enough!" I could feel the heat rising behind my ears.
"I wasn't good enough because I thought I wasn't good enough. And I thought I wasn't good enough because of you!"
Silence. Then, "Of course, who am I if not yourself, and who if not me?"
I pondered that. And came to one inescapable conclusion. Some voices must be silenced.
Okay I am being over-dramatic here. But I gotta work on my dialogue skills for NaNoWriMo.
I am working to quiet that mother-fucker. And so far, even after a couple of days, it's working.
I'm saying "Hi, howya doin'?" to perfect strangers on the street. And getting good responses. Today I very cute blonde did a "Hi" back. I caught her checking me out in the reflection in the glass building.
At work, I think one admin assistant from the executive floor and one from the legal department are actually flirting with me. I'm trying to flirt back, but that ain't pretty.
But that's just a lack of experience. I'm a quick learner.
See ya!
Update: Well, looks like it's time for a new video card. I'm about 6 chipsets behind. At least have have Battlestar Galactica 2.5 to keep me company. Sci-fi with hot babes and good writing. How much better can it get?
Well, yeah, there's that. And that. Oh and some of those. Plenty of that....
Further Update: Apparently I am now officially a Dirty Old Man.
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