(I met Richard Armitage last week, in Robin Hood - but didn't really notice him,
because, hello? Robin Hood is about Robin. And I am a one-man woman. So last week it was Robin.)
This week it's Mr. Thorton.
Oh, yes. I'm aware.
I DO need a life.
Living in this fantasy land is not only unhealthy, it's also silly for someone my age.
At Christmas, the kids, probably worried about whose job it would be to care for me if I didn't snap out of whatever was making me robotic soon, suggested that I get a dog to live with.
When I didn't hop all over that completely asinine idea, they cautiously brought up the idea that maybe I should look into getting married again.
As if it's just that easy; those two options: Get a dog, or get a husband.
The more I watch romantic comedies, or whatever Robin Hood and North and South are labelled, the harder it's going to be to:
1. Swoon over an age-appropriate real-life male that thinks up his own sentences to say.
2. Not have completely unrealistic expectations about chivalry, grand romantic gestures and the need for them to be excellent with bows n quivers.
Speaking of romance, TODAY is the 200th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice.
And my writer friend, Jenn, is collecting real romantic stories from her friends on Facebook. I told her I'd collect some from my friends too, and pass them along.
She's always looking for fodder for inspiration.
So if your guy has done something special that made your heart smile, share it in the comments section, or post it on my wall on Facebook.
Seeing I'm wading in anyways, I might as well ask the question that's been on my mind for awhile.
Does hand-holding mean anything these days?
I've been told it doesn't.
Like, a young man I know was seen walking through the mall, holding hands with a girl and I assumed that they were probably dating, and was told, "Holding hands is nothing. Doesn't mean anything."
That's kinda sad, no?
Back in the ancient, medieval days of the mid-70's, I was being pursued by like, a guy. Actually, truth be told, there were two of them. At the same time. Sending me notes, and being all flirty. (Grade 10 was a good year for my self-esteem.)
After a season of simmering, smouldering desire, one wrote out, in fancy calligraphic script on parchment paper, the words of this Supertramp song for me,
Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
Give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my love to you
There's so much that we need to share
So send a smile and show you care
I'll give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my life for you
So give a little bit
Give a little bit of your time to me
See the man with the lonely eyes
Take his hand, you'll be surprised
And the other one followed me one evening upstairs to my bedroom (which, was so not cool, but he didn't know that) and pinned me against the wall on the long, very private, back hallway. Poor guy. He was hoping for a kiss. He got a crazy woman who struggled, fought and then ran. And never spoke to him again.One year of flirting, over in a second.
(Looking back, in his defence, I know that he had no idea that I had some issues about being pinned. During the years when I was 11 - 14, a family friend (?), who was two years older than me, was a little bit obsessed and had too many surging hormones. And he would use every opportunity he could to get me alone. Often he would hold me down and zoom his face in for a kiss. Sometimes his dad would watch and egg him on. I would struggle and yell, and in the end everyone always thought it was a joke. I made it through those years, never getting that kiss he was so desperate to plant on me. But it sure messed me up for anyone after that who may have though it was cool to kiss against a wall.)
I went out with the guy who wanted me to give a little bit, to look into his lonely eyes, and who wanted to hold my hand.
And hold hands we did.
We rocked the Holding of Hands.
SO much was communicated through that connection.
In my grade 12 year-book, he wrote about our epic ability to excel at the ancient art of hand-holding.
(For those who don' know the story, he and I did kiss on our very first date, which was the Christmas Dance in grade 10. He was the student council president and had organized the event with a live band. He? Was popular. I? Was the shy girl who had never heard a rock n roll song up til this point. He leaned in for a kiss during the band's extended version of Stairway to Heaven and didn't remove his lips til well after the song had ended and the band had left the stage for their break.
It was too much too soon for me, so when, at the end of the evening, he asked me to 'go around' with him, I had to say no. For a number of reasons, but mostly because I could not do 12 minute kisses like that again. He wasn't a Christian. And I wasn't mature enough to handle any of it. And it was at that point, that he chose, instead of walking away, to re-woo me, slowly, with lots of talking on the phone, lots of silly notes and warm smiles, and many hours spent walking around the mall. And when he asked me, via Supertramp, to hold his hand, I did.)
And seven years later I married him.
ANYWAY, it's sad for me, that kids these days are flippant about the whole holding hands thing. They are missing out on something intimate.
See that poll over there, on the side bar near the top, on the right? (Under the ABOUT ME section.) Please tell me your thoughts on hand-holding. It's all anonymous, so don't worry about anyone finding out how YOU really feel. :) I'm also wondering if it's an age thing?
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. This weekend, as I was sharing with a friend some of the ways in which I felt I had done a good job at work this week, she said, "You do know that I always believed you could do this, right? Even when you were doubting yourself, I knew you'd be great."
MAN, how lucky am I in the whole friends department? Very lucky I tell. Very.
2. Her and I spent 24 hours at the lake watching movies. How blessed am I? I have a happy place, and I get to go there. Often.
3. On Sunday afternoon, I baked cookies with my girls. Hahaha. I know. I don't have girls. But I kinda do.
4. Eight days ago, I went off the meds I'd been taking since Nov 26. Cold turkey. Holy Hannah, talk about head-aches. But the upside is, I feel a variety of emotions again. And anxiety is not one of them. So yay.