Saturday 18 August 2012

What Women Really Want.

         
 
 


A pocket dictionary.

Don’t you sometimes wish you found a magical book containing all the dos and the don’ts to understanding your ladyship; a simple best-seller with a beginning and an end? Better yet, a Christmas present to your other with a love note that says: “Here darling, I’ve finally been translated into 47 languages.”

A user guide to every expression, every sigh, every possible double, triple and quadruple meaning of a woman’s witty, painful, sarcastic, dramatic, original, joyful remarks. Every eyelash on every cheek, every square in every hole, every you in every me.
Here’s an excerpt from A Very Easy Guide to Understanding Women For Good – an imaginary book I just started writing with invisible ink. I would upload the rest, but I don’t want to make the website crash.
I suggest you print this out (on recycled paper, mind you) and keep in your wallet (or purse) at all times. You never know when you might need it.
Because we’re everywhere!
And we can charm your life in every way, if you’ll just get us.

It’s really not that complicated…

1. We don’t want to be told what to do. And yet, we do want to be told, just a little bit of implied and soft truth, just enough so it doesn’t seem like you’re telling us.
Don’t be fooled by the “What should I do”, we’re not actually asking you. We need you to listen – be an active wall – so we can figure it out on our own. But don’t be too active and don’t be too wall. Find the right spot and don’t move.

2. We don’t really like shopping. We like how shopping makes us feel: a new outfit is just another chance to recycle our beauty, rephrase ourselves, to look at the old through newer glasses. We recreate the world by redressing.
Of course, we’d recreate it even better if we found another, more sustainable outlet for our creativity. (And no, as much as we like you, we don’t want you coming along. You’ll ruin our day with your questionable patience or impatient remarks.)

3. We don’t want to talk about sex if it was great. Stop asking. We may only tell if you if it’s sunny outside and you insist in having a mature conversation on the anatomy of pleasure over brunch.
Though you’ll notice it by the way we look at you throughout the day, or crawl into your chest at night or if we unexpectedly turn and kiss you like it’s 2012 and the world is ending and what-are-we-going-to-do-with-the-cat?
But if it wasn’t great, we won’t say it either, unless we’d like it to become so, with you.

4. It doesn’t matter how beautiful we could or may be. We’re never 100% happy with our bodies. We’re never perfectly OK with mirrors.
We may be generally OK, but real life has cellulite, dear. So when we ask you how we look, we want detail. Don’t say, fine or hot or sexy or not.
Say: Well, you definitely have that Audrey Hepburnish elegant innocence tonight that goes hand in hand with your usual, intelligent allure; but that doesn’t cancel the irresistible Marilyn Monroeism vividly present in the prudent, yet undomesticated way in which you carry yourself. The only thing that suits you even more perfectly than your beautiful wit is your dress, did-I-pay-for-those-shoes?
But if you say that, we’ll know you just memorized this paragraph. Don’t be sticky, take a poetry class.


5. We can be goddesses and we can be ants. Increasing your daily meditation will help you figure out which day we’re which, so you can lift us up or lift us higher. And when we get too mystical, don’t laugh. But if you get too serious, you’ll make us laugh.
If you can’t breathe us in, just pray for wisdom. And if, goodness forbid, we hit our head against a spiritual wall and start speaking in tongues, adopt a neutral, Mona Lisa smile and call a yoga ambulance.

6. Sometimes we eat because we’re hungry. Others, to quiet the Emotional Creature. Don’t bring us chocolate, you’re not doing our hips any favor. Unless it’s fair-trade and at least 70% cacao, in which case go ahead, we might be temporarily sweetened.
And when you see us cry:  let us, don’t leave us. When we say “Go,” don’t go, unless we say it twice, louder and louder. Third time comes with a glass. And if you go, wait by the door a little longer. Try coming back inside after two minutes.

7. We’re naturally undomesticated, adventurous and wild – unless it’s that time of the month (to be sure, you should keep your own calendar). We like the outdoors, even on heels. Hey, isn’t Earth also a Sexy Gaia?
Our make-up is anti-mosquito, that’s why we wear it on camping trips. Please understand that when we scream at spiders, it’s not because we’re scared, but concerned about the wellbeing of their children, after they’re orphaned by your foot. Be gentle.

8. And when the night comes, we are not afraid. We don’t need muscles to survive, we have our words. We don’t need lamps, because to pass the womanhood exam you have to memorize the darkness.
But if you do come in and light the candles with your fingers, we’ll happily exchange survival for revival.

9. So, let me put it this way: Marry us and you will regret it. Don’t marry us and you will regret it. Whatever you do, you will regret it.

Unless…

Unless…


10. You forget all the above and only remember to love us. 
Like the rock loves to roll; like it’s 2012 and the world is ending and the cat is nowhere to be found; like one sock needs the other; like when you have someone call your cell phone because you think you lost it and you’re so happy when it starts ringing in your pocket; or when you catch the last train by two seconds.

Love us more than you love work, money or sex. But don’t love us too tightly or we might suffocate. Don’t do it too generally, we might believe you and fly away.

Love us in that exact amount that can’t be measured; in that foreign language nobody can pronounce; in that serene, dark place of daylight between your heart and you; no more or less than you first love yourself.


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