miércoles, 2 de septiembre de 2009

Wisdom pearls: Boys are not THAT complicated

I’m reading this book, totally hilarious. Title: “He’s just not that into you”. I know, not precisely intellectual reading, but it was a present, so I decided to take a look at it. Couldn’t have made a wiser decision… it’s totally worth it. I’m having the time of my life reading it since it’s so funny, and so true…


Us girls seem a hell of a lot dumber than we really are. We sit around, talk with our girlfriends, and keep making out the craziest excuses for the guys we meet and date, transforming our meeting is some kind of workshops that could easily be named “Men: puzzled behaviour creatures”. We dissect, discuss, and ponder the significance of their dos and don’ts to mostly end up disappointed, crying and/or increasing our daily chocolate dose, all in search of the so called Prince Charming who, amazingly, just seems to be on vacation on Lalaland, way far away, out of reach. As my dearest Charlotte York would say “I’m exhausted, where is he?!”, hence all the drama.


Well, darlings, let me tell you something: this is the book we want to be reading to avoid all that excuse forming discussion with ourselves; And this should be our new motto ('cause it applies to all kinds of apparently normal boys who just end up not being so): Maybe he’s just not that into you.


What? Don’t believe me? I have some examples*…
* Ordered from
“Completely oblivious to the existence of this wonderful truth”
to “Looks like I’m learning after all”.




Exhibit A. The Lawyer
If he’s giving you just scraps of his time well, he’s just not that into you.


No matter how many excuses I made for him (and I could full the Atlantic with them), no matter how hard I tried to justify his behaviour, the truth was, he wasn’t into me. At all. I only got the time when he was not occupied, he didn’t like to call back, and even though we spent a lot of time together and all felt like it could evolute into something, it never really did. But I didn’t give up on my hopes, not even many disappointments. Like a good scientifically educated girl I had to see to believe. And trust me… I SAW: him kissing my friend, right on my face. Him holding hands with her… they didn’t consider necessary to spare me the image (even when she knew how I felt), God bless them.


I could have saved tons of tears and sobs if I had really let myself to believe that really, he wasn’t into me.


Exhibit B: The Older Guy
He’s not that into you if he never tries to touch you.


I was completely obsessed with this older friend of mine for a while. Thought he fancied me too (or so my friends kept telling me – damn mixed signals -). One day we were alone in a room and for a moment, it looked like we were about to kiss. We were son damn near. A second later, there was an interruption, the moment gone. He never tried again… not even when I gave him cues.


Greg, the book author, has a theory on this: When men like you, they want to touch you, always. And when they don’t, they’re just so coward that the don’t want to tell you and hurt your feelings.


So yeah, apparently, he wasn’t that into me either.


Exhibit C. The frien
The “I don’t date friends” excuse


So… liked this guy. Decided to be active this time, take the lead. I invited him over, armed myself with a huge Gin&Tonic and tons of friend encouragement, and asked him out.


Didn’t work. He flashed that lovely “I don’t date friends, it could make things uncomfortable and difficult” excuse.


Well… I don’t know if he does or not. What I do know is that he was just not that into me. Luckily, we’re still friends. And I’m not into him either.


Exhibit D: The Estranger
If he’s not calling you, he’s not that into you.


I met a really cute guy on a bar one week. We went waaaay past courtship. He gave me his number, I gave him mine. He promised to call.


He didn’t.


Only this time, I knew it, I knew the answer to the dilemma: he was not into me; he just wanted to have a one night stand. Now that I remember, he continuously let me know through all the way back home, with his hand way above my knee (when I was distracted and let him go). Didn’t want that, so I let him know.


I didn’t call him either.



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