vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What a mess Sex is a drug. A mind-altering drug. It makes you hallucinate and become paranoid. It makes you think you're falling for someone. Dating in 2011 is...a real challenge. Now, you can't swing a cat without hitting a book about how the Internet and social media are changing the nature of social relations, our brains, etc. in these modern times. And, as cliche as it has become, this old "the Internet changes everything," trope, there is a kernel of truth there. It used to be that what made you anxious when you were dating someone new before the Internet, was waiting for that person to call. And the anxiety was simply temporal: the waiting. In 2011, we have multiple channels of communication: the good old telephone, of course (including mobiles); email; Facebook; Twitter; Foursquare. And now, the anxiety around "Will he or won't he call?" is compounded by the fact you can track that person's life online. You can see them doing all sorts of things online, except for respond to you. And so you ask, "Why is he changing his profile picture and not texting me back?" Or "Why is he retweeting that celebrity and not emailing me?" Of course, this is not new territory. I think Drew Barrymore's character said it best in "He's Just Not That Into You,": "I had this guy leave me a voicemail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies." And, to make matters worse, we make excuses for why these guys have not called or texted or emailed. This always makes me think of one of my favourite scenes from Amelie where the guy she is in love with is late to meet her and she imagines why: "Nino is late. Amelie can only see two explanations. 1 - he didn't get the photo. 2 - before he could assemble it, a gang of bank robbers took him hostage. The cops gave chase. They got away... but he caused a crash. When he came to, he'd lost his memory. An ex-con picked him up, mistook him for a fugitive, and shipped him to Istanbul. There he met some Afghan raiders who took him to steal some Russian warheads. But their truck hit a mine in Tajikistan. He survived, took to the hills, and became a Mujaheddin. Amelie refuses to get upset for a guy who'll eat borscht all his life in a hat like a tea cozy." He must be tired and sleeping. He said he was not feeling well the last time we texted two days ago. Right. That's it. As if he didn't just look at my text and say, 'Meh." It's been nothing but mixed messages with him. Everytime we see each other it's a wave graph of peaks and valleys. He'll say things that make me feel that he really likes me and that I am the only one. Then, he'll talk about the girl he met at the boutique in London who is coming to visit Toronto next week and who he might show around the city. And, I fall down into the valley of jealousy and despair. The thing is, I am not even sure I like him. I have this feeling deep down that this is not going to last. That we don't really have that much in common. It's the little things that have been popping up lately. I asked him if he was going to vote in the upcoming election and he said, "No. I don't like anybody." It's little, but it bothers me that he's not all that keen on politics. He doesn't drink for religious reasons, even though he's not very religious. He's not all that into food and has horrible eating habits. I think what happened is that I painted him as Mr. Right Now in my mind when I got rejected by the last guy I was seeing. In comparison to the last, he was the nice guy. The greener lawn. Now, he's just like the first. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I was spoiled in my last real relationship. My ex and I went on our first three dates in the course of one weekend and by Sunday, we were in a relationship, on Facebook, of course. It was fast and passionate and rash. It just worked. I remember thinking just after meeting him that he was someone special. The one thing I can always say about him is that I never questioned his love for me: I knew from day one that he was crazy about me. Is this how it is supposed to happen? Or is this the exception? Do we have to suffer through a period of ambivalence before we know where we stand? If so, why? What purpose does it serve? Or is this just the excuse we make when we're trying to make something that isn't supposed to work, work? I have a lot more questions than answers. 10:17 p.m. - ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||