Start and stop. Start and stop. Start and stop.

This is the staccato pattern of my Blog. Is it tacky that I am self-referential to my Blog within my Blog? Is it gauche? Will I be jettisoned from this corner of cyberspace for my utter lack of hipness? Probably not, as I have yet to be jettisoned from the corner of reality that I inhabit while committing the very same crime.

Steady inspiration. Inspired joy. Joyous Happiness. Happy laughter. Laughter and love.

Love. Love. Love.

I really like that idea. Love. I have spent a lot of time attempting to define love. I have invested words, time, tears, angst and worry into uncovering what it means. If I can define love, then it shall be mine. Love may conquer all, but I, in turn, can conquer it. Why? Because I can control everything. Yes, of course, because I am so good at that. Control of others. Control of things. Control of myself. Sure.

I cannot control anything.

Once again, for those in the cheap seats: (Louder, and with more feeling) I cannot control anything.

And....

That is okay.

Really.

No fooling.

Well, okay, it still eats away at my corners. The worry, the need for perfection, the driving desire for control. Those things are me. There is no divorcing myself from my realities. However, if I can manage them in such a way that they remain relegated to fraying my edges, but leaving my core center intact, well, let's just say I can live with that. Hell, I will have a party for that. Those palpable shadows of mine have been living far too close to my heart for far too long. Hard to let love in when there are already so many unsavory characters living in that neighborhood. Really, worry and stress and unyielding Type-A ambitions for control do not belong in the high rent district of one's self. Really, one's soul should be surrounded by beautiful topiary and rolling hills, not urban blight and drive by shootings.

My heart is South Central L.A.

Wow. That's not good.

Time for some inner gentrification. Realization of one's own inner property values.

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So I saw these folks on the Today show. They were selling a book. Turns out they had also been on Oprah. Selling this book. They had been writers for Sex and the City. Upon which they based said book. The book: "He's Just Not That Into You." (Which I referenced previously in an entry with an article re. said book).

The book - HJNTIY - was a revelation. I had, in fact, been trying to put my finger on a similar sentiment in the several weeks prior. My general lament of "Why isn't' anything easy?" had lately taken the form of "I have a sneaking suspicion that relationships can be easy. People must have easy relationships. At least relationships that that require effort, but not work. Because let's face it - "work" is never a good thing. In any context." When you want to do something, you put forth effort. When you do something for some other reason than your own inner desire (e.g. to pay to bills, to make your parents happy, to fulfill an obligation) then it is work. Plain and simple.

My last relationship was work. Four years of work. For both of us. He was in the relationship because of some sense of societal propriety of having a girlfriend, and, eventually, out of a sense of obligation to me. I was in the relationship due to societal pressure to be involved and just not to be alone.

Note: Neither of us were in the relationship in order to be with the other. At least not primarily. The result: Tears, angst and misery on my part. Indifference on his.

Relationship - over. Good news for all.

But back to HJNTIY. Though the book itself is about 100 pages long (and yet still $20 a pop) the message could be delivered (if its target audience were not women in desperate need of being deprogrammed of certain inherent core beliefs) in a couple of lines:

If a guy is really interested in you, he will pursue you. This pursuit, while varying from guy to guy, will not require you to be making excuses for him at every turn. If you are having to make excuses for him, HJNTIY.

HJNTIY opened my eyes. Seems sort of silly to say, because it is intuitive, I suppose. But the idea here being that if a guy likes me, then he will pretty much do the same things I do when I like him. He will call when he says he will. He will make efforts to do things. He will want to spend time with me. He will want to introduce me to his friends. He will want to hang out. He will want to go out. He will want to, ahem, stay in. He will want to be with me. The way I want to be with him.

I didn't know that was possible.

I have never had that.

Not with someone I liked. (This references a whole topic for another day - i.e. my chicken/egg problem: Why do guys not like me when I like them or is it that I only like guys who don't like me?)

So all due props being given to HJNTIY - I have some problems with it, at least in the execution. HJNTIY says never to ask a man out. He likes to be in pursuit. He likes what he cannot have. I understand this. We all like this. But what if you are dealing with a shy guy? What if you are dealing with other stumbling blocks - like different backgrounds? What if you are trying to be cool and coy and are sending mixed signals?

HJNTIY - like "The Rules" (that book from the mid-90's that told women they needed to play by certain rules if they wanted to get a man and keep him) before it - plays in black-and-white absolutes. Seems to me you can't always be that way.

And I get disturbed when I am trying to figure out how to deal with something in my life and I start every sentence about that topic out with, "Yes, but the Book says...." That is completely insane. The book is not living my life. The book doesn't know me. The book cannot possible cover every situation.

The New York Times Wedding Page (yes, I read it. I admit it. Though for reasons different now, than when I first started. Now it is not out of envy for the marrieds, but rather, I like to look for people I know, and I especially like the profiles that talk about how people met.) is instructive in this way. Though not wholly representative of a diverse cross-section of relationships, I am sure. The NYT Wedding Page does represent a lot of smart, talented, different people. So how do they meet? Anecdotally, it seems, most often, through friends, or being brought back together through some common activity (e.g. reunions, dinner parties etc.). A lot of times the courtships begin very slowly, almost unawaredly (is that a word?). They build. One pursues. Then the other. Oftentimes it is the man. A good number of times it is the woman. Eventually it ends up in the Sunday Times. Where it goes from there, I am not sure. Point is, there is no science to it.

As some friends pointed out to me recently, as I continued to angst over how to approach a current situation (see below): "If you like the person, then everything they do is cute, adorable, and wonderful. If you don't like them, then the very same action is deemed psychotic, weird or dorky."

True.

So really, if you made a connection, then nothing you do is wrong. If you didn't, then keep your eyes peeled for that person not being into you and just walk away before wasting any time.

So this is all how I came to asking a guy out. The Book said I shouldn't. The NYT was indifferent. I wanted to do it. Granted, the track record of my judgment, especially in areas concerning matters of the heart, has not been so stellar, but I feel good about this one. I think I could really like this one. I think it really has potential, and well, I got tired of waiting. We went out once. I thought it went well. There were references to going out again. There was a call the next morning saying he had a good time. There were e-mails exchanged back and forth. But no second date has been proposed. Why? I don't know. Maybe he is not that into me. I just can't tell. I guess I just need to be hit over the head with a brick about it one way or another in order for me to know what it going on. It has been 2 weeks. 2 weeks is enough to wait. Isn't it?

Well, if he likes me, it doesn't matter. If he doesn't, then assuredly, I won't hear from him again. But at least I will know.

It was an e-mail invitation to dinner. Hardly intrusive. Hopefully tempting, and not completely divesting me of my leverage. But see, here is the thing, I do not want to be concerned with leverage. I just want to date someone I like who likes me. Simple. Really. Life is complicated enough without dating people who don't like you.

I believe myself to be a nice looking girl (some days being particularly better than others). I make a nice living. I work too much - but I can work on that. I dress nicely. I have cool friends. I have diverse interests - I can talk sports, rail on about J.Lo or Lindsay Lohan, discuss what I am reading, address trash TV, sing Duran Duran's greatest hits, eulogize my iPod. I can be funny, or at least I am fun to laugh at, because, let's face it, I do some pretty silly things. My family is crazy, but not always in a bad way. I like to go out, but I also enjoy hanging on my couch. I can drink you under the table (okay, well maybe not quite, but I have been told that I am "all liver from neck to knees" on a couple of occasions - oops). I am geographically knowledgeable - at least in the domestic U.S. And, I am working on being less high maintenance.

That can't be all bad, right?