A case in point....

So what class am I speaking of, you ask?  The class that teaches women how to play "the game"...how to use their feminine wiles....and most importantly how to translate the language and behavior of people with penises--and persuade them in your direction.  You know...the class where they show episodes of a program (a la the deer watching show on the outdoor network) where some women are whispering (so not as to frighten) while deciphering the behavior of some men in the wild...and going after the kill....


Actually, that class probably started in Junior High....it seems to nowadays....but...even if I knew it existed, at the time I wouldn't have signed up based on the reason that I find it hard to get past the ridiculousness of not being yourself, playing games and conniving your way into "getting a guy" when he should have had the balls to go after you....because isn't that the the law of nature?  Men are peacocks...the peahen chooses the worthiest....not the other way around....but as I have aged, I have realized...the peahen has her part in the mating ritual too....I have been so femi-nazi that I didn't learn how to play my part....


I have learned some things from my experiences, but the application of this education has been hit or miss....  At the beginning of this year I made a commitment to myself to become more positive....not to assume that people are attacking me....as part of this process I evaluated many things.  I have always found it difficult to balance my values with my needs....and sometimes I vascilate between feminist and doormat...and I wanted to try to find the middle-ground that makes me happy.  I have learned that is difficult for people with penises to understand that a strong woman can most certainly take care of herself, but still wants comfort, safety and a hero at the end of the day.  And this is the bane of my current femi-nazi soul:   Having a spine makes you undesirable as men want softer women...but if you show your softer side via the methods learned in class, you feel like a doormat!  And while I am perfectly capable of living without a man...I find that I would prefer not to... (and while I am loathe to admit it...I do need the help of a big, strong man).  For all of the complication and headache that they are....they still excite me!


So...the biggest issue with missing that class is that I am expected to behave in the manner taught... as it is assumed that I have graduated from "charm school".  While I am grappling with my throwing out the baby with the bathwater...I am trying to take remedial classes.  To illustrate my point, I will give my current favorite example of  interaction with the confounding sex.  


To start with some background:  I met "the Lumberjack" (I will use nicknames to protect the innocent) because he was a friend of one of my friends' husband (what a mouthful--"that's what she said" comes to mind...eek!).  She had mentioned the lumberjack two years previous....but I was not interested in meeting any of her husband's friends because I was not particularly fond of him (the husband).  We met at a bar during one of my visits to set up the bookstore.  I will save full first impressions for later...but it is worth mentioning that he blew me away.  We became Facebook friends and e-mailed regularly.  Through e-mail I got the impression from several statements that he was only interested in being just friends.  I have been down this road many, many times.  I know how it goes--so I prepared myself.  When I moved back to my hometown to open the store he asked me to join his volleyball team.  After our first practice some of the team went to the bar to celebrate our pathetic playing abilities.  


While at the bar, another volleyball player decided that she wanted some action and put her foot in the lumberjack's crotch!  I am sitting next to him and he texts me to tell me what is happening.  My first thought is:  "what am I supposed to do about it?  I am pretty sure that if he didn't want it there...it wouldn't be there!"  I shrug my shoulders and the night goes on....with two more texts about it.  Again, I keep thinking to myself:  "What does he want me to do about this? He keeps mentioning it....am I missing something?....he seems like a man who can handle himself!"  At the end of the night, it is just he and I left....and we stand outside the bar to chat.  He AGAIN brings up the foot-in-the-crotch incident...I am completely confused at this point, so he draws me a picture (on my arm--who brings a pen to the bar??) to show me that she was mad because I was being a cock-blocker!  I am appalled at this!  (My understanding of cock-blocker, at the time, is a woman who teases at the bar (or wherever) and after she gets what she wants (free drinks, whatnot), she leaves the guy hanging with no intention of following through what she alluded to).   This is not something that I aspire to!  So at this point ...I tell him "I wasn't trying to be one!" 


The next day I was talking to one of my married friends and I relayed the previous nights events... and my vexation.  I had come to the conclusion that I had to figure out how to check my behavior....I wanted to at minimum maintain my friendship with the lumberjack and I was afraid that I had done something to harm that friendship--he told me I was blocking him, after all!  


What she told me blew my mind!  Her take on the whole evening was that he was hitting on me!  I said "WHAT?!?  how is that possible?  how can being considered a cock-blocker be a come-on?"  THEN she explains it to me:  He was trying to tell me that I was blocking the other girl's advances because he and I were engrossed in conversation--interested.  He told me about her foot for me to react to it--maybe with jealousy or territoriality or something. I am even more confounded by this...sure I was jealous that he didn't stop her (he must have been enjoying it)...but what is the point of acting on it?  First, it wasn't my place--we were not involved.  Second, what is the point of being jealous? ....I am not going to beg and plead and I am not going to compete. If you don't want me...you don't want me, end of story.


As I attempted to wrap my brain around this particular explanation, I decide to get some other opinions.  After all, not everyone translates things the same way....and is this REALLY how it is?...being called something so vile as a means to show interest?  What ever happened to asking me out on a date?  The two other friends that I confided in, said basically the same thing!  I was in the twilight zone!  ...and I asked how do you KNOW that is what he was trying to do?  they told me that is how guys are....huh?  I just totally misread it!  Huh?!?  


I have no idea what he was really thinking, nor would I imagine I will ever know....or even if my friends were right...but by the power of the majority of my (successfully dating/married) friends...I was deemed yet again totally clueless....because I missed that class in high school!


...so this is my journey...I will explore the past to understand the present....and maybe, just maybe... this femi-nazi will get her fairy tale ending, chivalrous prince and all!