Yet, if he said he loved me...

All weekend I kept thinking of things that I thought needed to be blogged about. This is pretty sad, if you think about it, because I am living my life and then while living it I am thinking it needs to go onto the Internet? Oh, Moira, you've really reached that point in your life. Even sadder is that very few of my brilliant ideas make it into this sacred little white box.

Mostly I just get distracted. My Mary Magdalene thing could, if I actually wrote it down, probably be a ten page paper. It's just this massive amount of passion and thought all mixed together, like a Blizzard at Dairy Queen, except that if you were to flip it upside down, instead of staying in the cup, it'd all fall out and then buzz around your head for as long as it wanted to until you took a Benadryl and went to sleep. But, do I write that in my blog? Absolutely not. Instead I post notices about my Thanksgiving get-together and then rant at bugs! Of course I do. Why on earth would I put down all the things I want to talk about when I could, instead, do an off-the-cuff blog that makes me late to work and bemoans a common household pest?

Anyway, I actually am going to blog about something I've been thinking about. Not because it is immensely important, mostly just because it keeps. coming. up. I can't get rid of it. And that's dang annoying. So here goes.

I'm ready for a relationship. I've been thinking I was ready for a relationship for a long time, but I think that for a long time I wasn't. I still carry a pretty hefty amount of baggage with me from past failures. But before, that baggage was the kind that got you stopped at airport security. There really was no way that I could move forward into... anything with it. But I couldn't let it go. Now that baggage has been checked. Look at all these tired cliches, I may have moved on emotionally, but you know I can't resist a really embarrassingly bad pun.

I've attempted to act on this relationship thing in a way that apparently isn't very intelligent. I wrote a note (originally to Chris) along the lines of, "Hey, I am ready for a relationship. Will you find me somebody? It would be really nice. Yeah, they'd have to deal with me, but I'm sure somebody must be up for it." Chris's reaction was so disheartening that I passed the letter along to whoever I could snag. Here are the answers I got, starting with the indomitable Mr. York.

Chris: (Laughing wildly, by the way. Loud laughter. Loud, loud laughter. Right in my face.) I'm sure there's somebody out in the world who would adore you. They're just not anywhere around here. [editor's note: thanks a bunch.]

Dave: I don't believe in dating. To set you up with somebody would be, in my opinion, a disservice. I would never do that to you. [editor's note: thank you, sincerely, for being more tactful than Christopher.]

Aaron: Yeah, I could probably find you somebody. I mean, I don't want to date you, but I'm sure somebody will want to. Give me some time.

Laura: Actually, there is this one guy... [editor's note: you get my biggest thanks, Red. You gave my petition thought and even came up with somebody. You rock.]

Then I realized that this is not the way to find a boyfriend. Begging your friends to find somebody who can tolerate you? Oh no, oh no, that just isn't love. Anna was telling Kelly this weekend that unless she wants to spend time with somebody, that she ought not make herself. That is to say, don't make yourself like somebody (or even pursue a relationship with them) just because they like you. It shouldn't need to be said, but to be quite honest, I think that's how it works in most cases.

My problem is that I am the pusher, not the pushed. I go after people, hard. It is neither subtle nor romantic nor any of the things it should be. And I shouldn't be doing it! I should be the one being pursued. I should hold out for somebody who actually wants to be my boyfriend. But what fun is that? I hate waiting. But it makes so much sense. Why, when somebody isn't jumping to date you, do we find it necessary to convince them to date us? They are not jumping. You will not be jumping later. It will be a big debacle. Don't go there, sister (or brother).

It sounds so sad to say "I have to wait for somebody who wants to date me..." but it isn't. Because there are a ton of people who I absolutely adore but don't want to date. And I know that there are plenty of people in this world who enjoy my company but wouldn't want to date me. And that's really cool and okay and normal. This whole waiting thing is just really starting to put me out.

Not only that, but then I realize that just because I'm not being a pusher doesn't mean I should be pushed. Say Mr. Wants-to-Date comes up to me and he tells me I am just the bees knees. Should I jump? Well, not unless I'm jumping. If I don't want it, I've gotta turn it down, and when I'm sitting here waiting for somebody to want me, I need to realize that I actually have some pretty high standards.

All the romantic prospects I've had lately have caveats. "He's a really great guy, but..." "No, I swear he's great, it's just..." "Most of the time we're totally happy!"

No more buts, boys (men?). Little Miss Moira will sit on her porch-a, smoking a cigarette. And she'll not be "waiting" on a single one of you. She'll be enjoying herself. Knowing that at some point somebody will walk by and jump. And she'll jump, too.

Sounds good, huh?