i mean, it's The Crazy where you* tell yourself you're not waiting by the phone. you tell yourself you are checking email only occassionally, despite that you're sitting at your desk with your gmail/hotmail/yahoo inbox permanently open. and while you're telling yourself these various lies, you're also envisioning all the things he might be doing instead of calling you, and you maybe also think of the 183 things you might possibly say if** he calls, including but not limited to places you might off-handedly suggest you could meet up later, maybe.
while pretending to work.
right. we all know this -- The Crazy -- that women experience when trying to figure out if he's "just not that into" us or if he's just not that good at calling.
see, i forgot. i forgot that there's another lie -- the biggest lie of all, actually -- that you tell yourself during The Crazy times.
which is that you are really really (obviously) completely normal and SANE and cool and calm and collected and not a psycho girl but totally a put-together woman, and really, all he has to do is call. and when he does call, regularly enough that you don't have to worry about IF he's going to call, you tell yourself that you will OF COURSE return to being your most fabulous, NORMAL self because The Crazy is temporary.
(and you are such a liar.)
the actual TRUTH of the matter is that once you get to the point where you're making plans regularly and it's been established that he WILL actually call you, two things happen:
1. you don't totally believe it, really. (because deep down, despite the fact that you have NO evidence supporting your theory, you are secretly ready at any time to believe you will never hear from him again.)
(i know it's crazy. hi.)
2. you meet Crazy's Twin Sister, YM.
who is YM, you ask?
why, don't tell me you don't you remember. you know, from back a hundred years ago? when we were, like, young and YM was a magazine otherwise known as "Young Miss" and not "Young & Modern"?
well, i do. and not only do i remember it, but somehow, for some reason, when i decide that i'm Officially Interested in a guy, i revert to being about 11 years old and all my junior high school boy tendencies kick in and i may as well be dancing around my room listening to cyndi lauper wearing bonnie bell lip gloss and colored mousse in my hair.
because this is what i do:
you know exactly what i'm talking about here. this ranges from writing my initials and his initials (along with TLA and TLF) to just writing his name in various scripts and lengths (first name, last name; first name, middle initial, last name; just initials; mr. last name; mr. first name last name), to of COURSE writing out the variations of my name and his, in case we were ever to marry. because even though the 30-year-old in me is never going to change her name again, the 11-year-old in me needs to know what my name looks like with his last name with a Mrs. in front. just in case.
that's the YM for ya.
- consult the stars...
i think astrology is a lot of fun and i really don't care if it's silly because hello, have you met me? and so the second i start seeing a guy i spend an inordinate amount of time online looking up my horoscope (to see if i am supposed to have met someone new), his horoscope (for the same reason), and then checking nine hundred million websites to see if our signs are compatible.
the trick to this is, of course, ignoring everything that does not pertain to me and him being absolutely perfect together and/or using the vague descriptions to confirm that you are absolutely perfect together.
for example, yesterday? he was supposed to "enjoy good times with "good people."" which obviously means he was supposed to spend time with me. whereas my stupid horoscope said that my "feelings are strongly associated with [my] community status" and that clearly means i am looking at the wrong website.
also? to the stupid website that says Cancers and Leos are "not a match made in heaven" i say i don't have to listen to a website that uses graphic templates circa '94.
- ...and anyone and anything else.
i will go online and search on our compatibility beyond the stars. i will consider numerology, tarot readings, even how the letters in our names might indicate eternal compatible bliss.
and i will talk about these factors (along with every single detail i have managed to learn about the guy i'm Officially Interested in) to anyone and everyone who will listen. oh yes. i become THAT kind of YM. and suddenly my entire range of conversation involves either something he said that was funny or something he said that was nice or something he said that could have meant A but maybe implied B and what if he was really getting at C and what do you think about what he said that time he said that thing***?
and you know, there's even more Crazy/YM stuff going on that's utterly embarrassing to admit (but that i totally would anyway) if i didn't have to go see a certain comedian perform in an hour.
and it's not that it takes an hour to get there, it's that it'll take me 45 minutes to figure out what to wear....
** and when -- ohgodpleaseletitbewhen! --
*** seriously, be grateful you do not ride to work with me every day. (love you, Risey!)