The Backup Plan...

I had an interesting conversation with Bestie the other day.  We were discussing backup plans.  She thought perhaps a girl we knew was sad because her backup plan was getting married.  Interesting, I thought.  She went on to tell me that she had had a backup plan years ago.  Really interesting.

"I don't think I've ever had a backup plan," I stated, a little shocked that I, Planning personified, had never had a backup plan.  And apparently I'm the one who needs one, as Bestie certainly didn't need hers.

See, a backup plan, for those of you who are male or uninformed, is that guy you have always known from way back-- the one who may or may not have had a crush on you, and you may or may not have had a crush on him.  In the back of your mind, he was always the backup in case you couldn't find somebody else-- he'd be decent marriage material.  Maybe he's not your ideal, but he'd be stable, friendly, and true.  And he'd be that peace of mind when your relationships failed, because you knew you wouldn't end up an old maid.  He's the backup plan.

But I didn't/don't have one of those.  Probably because I didn't have guy friends until high school, and even then they were always dating others, so I never really thought about them as potential.  And in college, there were several who had potential, but we were never close enough or... foolish enough to make that kind of pact.  I always wanted a backup plan, because in my twisted, rom-com mind I thought it would be romantic to make a spoken or unspoken pact with a guy friend that if you're not married by a certain age, you'd marry each other.  You know, like if My Best Friend's Wedding had turned out completely differently.  Suddenly you realize your backup plan is the one you've wanted all along.  How romantic.  *gag*

But now I realize, I don't want that at all.  It's settling for second best, and it kind of treats that guy like crap.  I'd rather have nothing if my other option is second best, I think.  I mean, how awkward to think, well, I didn't really want you, but you're all that's left, and I guess you're better than nothing at all.  And if it's more of a "we're best friends who love each other but not that way, and we've made a pact that if we're not married by thirty, we're getting married to each other" kind of pact, then why not just get married before you get to be thirty, since your minds are obviously inclined in that direction, and yes, you do love each other that way?  I don't know, just a thought. 

Don't get me wrong-- I'm not looking down on those who have had/ have backup plans.  Sometimes they're a little unconscious and that guy is just always in the back of your mind as a security blanket.  I get it.  I know Bestie wouldn't have ever really married her backup plan-- she's too wise for that.  And I probably would have made a mental backup plan if I had had that particular guy in my past to fall back on.  But since I didn't and don't, I won't.

I don't want a backup plan because I don't need one.  My life is the life God ordained for me-- not a second-best scenario that I'll need to settle for.  Whether or not my life includes a husband, that will be my life, plain and simple.  No backup plan needed.

Just remind me of this when I turn thirty, okay?

I Just Know What I *Don't* Want...

Is it so wrong that I just don't want to put as much effort into the online dating thing as others do?  I am not a lazy person, I guess I just don't feel the same time crunch or whatever that many of the singles on the sites seem to feel (Single Friend excluded, of course).

Take New Zealand, for example.  Despite my discomfort in the idea of talking on the phone with a complete stranger, he would rather do that than email.  Most people tell me to go for it, what do I have to lose?  Just do it, his accent is cute!  Maybe they're right, but I can't shake the feeling that this is not for me.  The forced, strained, awkward phone calls that could occur-- no thanks.  The vague emails that are uncomfortably mysterious-- hmmm.  Nope.

Is it too much to ask that I will date a real man, face to face?  That we will have real conversation and real chemistry and not have to play the email/phone games?  How will a man ever break down the walls around my heart without looking into my eyes?

I don't think it's too much to ask.  I think if anything, this experiment has solidified my belief that while it may work for some, this whole online singles thing is not for me.  So as funny as this experiment has been, I don't think it will last too much longer.  Too much longer would mean I'm playing games, and that's not what I'm about.

Maybe I'm being stubborn, but that's me.  Say goodbye to New Zealand and the others, because I'll be signing off unreality and entering back into reality-- where I'm sure I'll have just as much to write about.

"You Look Preeeetty..."

Last Saturday, I put on a sundress and went to Walmart.  Classy, I know.  But a girl's got to shop for gum and shorts somewhere she can afford, so why not dress so as not to end up on that creepy Walmart-white-trash website?

So I was moseying (well, that's not the right word, because I rarely mosey.  I often zip) zipping through Walmart pushing a cart full of odds and ends, when I pass a thirtysomething man loitering at an endcap.  Nothing was odd about him; he was just some customer in a t-shirt and shorts, loitering at an endcap.  As I passed, he stared at me fixedly with a smile and said, though well past noon, "Good morning."  I smiled a strained, closed-lipped smile and went on my way. 

He may have just been acting neighborly, or he could have been doing something I just don't understand about guys.  A girl knows the difference, and I believe he was doing something I just don't understand about guys, and that is this: getting the attention of a complete stranger in an I-want-to-pick-you-up kind of way.  What irrational thoughts go through the brains of men to make them talk to/shout at/whistle at/make gestures at/touch a girl they've never seen before and will never see again in their life?

Do they feel they can't let the opportunity pass?  Is it just sport-- "let's see how many women we can embarrass"?  Do they honestly believe if they acknowledge this stranger, she will stop in her tracks, turn in slow motion as the music swells and run into his arms, never to part?  How many hookups have started with a whistle?  I would think more often  than not, these outbursts end badly, or at least with the cold shoulder.  And yet some men persist.

Let me share some stories to illustrate my point:
Scene: Gulf-to-Bay during rush hour, driving a middle school girl to youth group.  I'm chilling in the turning lane when the car to my right honks.  Assuming the passengers of that car need directions, I roll down my window and look past middle school girl at a middle aged man.
"You look preeeetty," he says in an accent, leering creepily through the window.  I pursed my lips and rolled up the window.  Really?  What was the point?

Scene: Sitting in the back seat of Thor/Ladybug, a friend's red pickup in which I often hitch a ride.  Windows are down,  and I am enjoying the ride.  A muscle car approaches to my left and the passenger turns my way and stares.  We speed up.  They speed up. 
"Hey, girl!" I hear him shout above the roar of the engines, just before we speed up enough to lose them.  Did he think I'd jump out of the truck and join him in his muscle car? 

I could go on.  You ladies know what I'm talking about.  I mean, I appreciate a guy who is brave enough to start a conversation, but these outbursts are just... pointless.  So my question to guys is (whether or not you've ever been guilty of this, you at least can understand the male psyche), WHY?  Why do men do this?  And do they really think anything will come of it?  And ladies, do you have a trademark line or move to put these men in their place?  I think I should have one.  Not that this happens to me all the time, but when it does I would love to be prepared with something spitfire enough to inspire a little shame.

Because few things make my skin crawl like ogling creeps who verbalize their inanity.