A titsy-pootsy man

Tryland Court Headington,
Wednesday, November 9th

Malcom is a titsy-pootsy man...

I don't like kilts--unless men are big, strong, bronzed creatures that don't seem ashamed of their bare bits.

The inner workings of my mind and any computer station I can find

This is for my sister-cousin. Ü

Wednesday, November 9th
(Continued)

It appears [Malcom] has got into trouble over a horse called Angela Grey--Jean gathered this from Lady Katherine; she said her father was very angry about it, as he had spent so much money on it.
To me, it does not sound like a horse's name, and I told Jean so, but she was perfectly horrified, and said it must be a horse, because they were not acquainted with any Angel Grey, and did not even know any Greys at all. So it must be a horse!
I think that a ridiculous reason, as Mrs. Carruthers said all young men knew people one wouldn't want to; and it was silly to make a fuss about it, and that hey couldn't help it, and they would be very dull if they were as good as gold, like girls.

This is for all of those boys who wonder why good girls like bad boys--
I think it has very little to do with whether or not the guy is "good" or "bad," but how said boy makes them feel.

"You do surprise me about love,” I said. “I had no idea it was a violent kind of thing like that. I thought it began with grave reverence and respect, and after years of offering flowers and humble compliments, and bread-and-butter at tea-parties, the
gentleman went down upon one knee and made a declaration—“Clara Maria, I adore
you; be mine’—and then one put out a lily-white hand and, blushing, told him to rise; but that can’t be your sort, and you have not yet explained what temptation means.”

“It means more or less wanting to do what you ought not to.”

Women are human, too. Women want the reverence and respect, to be sure; however, we do also want to feel attractive, wanted, and (dare I say it?) sexy. *GASP* Especially when nobody has ever caused a woman to feel that way, when she finds someone that does, she does one of two things: Runs away or embraces it.

I'm becoming the kind that embraces.

I would like to point out the difference between feeling sexy and feeling like a sex object.

The third definition of the word "sexy" (thank you, dictionary.com) is

excitingly appealing; glamorous

"Excitingly appealing." Yes! That's precisely it! For a young woman who feels twice her age and is bracing for a 20-year-long mid-life crisis, feeling that someone thinks of me that way is something I welcome with open arms.

He did look such a teeny shrimp climbing after me! But it does not matter what is their size, the vanity of men is just the same.

The vanity and the self-satisfying nature of all humankind, but esepcially of the males in my romantic past, is terribly indiscriminate. "It don't matter what you look like..."

This is all totally cliché, and I apologize for that, but I guess I am just tired of being fooled by guys into thinking they are not the stereotypical commitment-phobes depicted on television and in films, but once again, art imitates life (or at least romantic comedies do...), then later finding out they really are. Or, another favorite, the guys who are the antithesis of said commitment-phobes, but the "eager beavers" (har har) of commitment-- the guys who want to get married so they can have the trophy wife to control and the picture-perfect, nuclear family life to flaunt as their own success.

What I'd like is a happy medium.

The man who offers flowers, humble compliments, and bread-and-butter that also makes me feel... well, who just makes me feel. I have tried sacrificing one for the other, and it simply does not work.

I know men who fit that happy medium exist. Two such men helped to raise me, and because of them I have incredibly high standards. I am so grateful for their presence in my life, even though they have ruined me. Ü
Now, I am just waiting for God to point me in the direction of a man who honestly meets those standards. Who knows? I may already be on that path. Probably not, but anything is possible. Even if I were listening my best, I still wouldn't know, and ya know, the more I think about it, I don't want to know. I have finally found, after 8 years of trying with all that I am to know for certain God's Will, that I would rather not know. It makes it much easier to trust and to follow what God has for me.

Think about it: You think you know what it is God wants for you, so you try with all of your might to make it happen. Who's in control now?

As a victim of failed planning and misconception, I choose to do what is right, dash the consequences, and go wherever the Spirit leads me. [LORD, please grant me wisdom.]

Not my will, but Thine.

...but Lord? It'd be nice to have a little fun along the way... :-}

Now I must stop and dress. I shall put on a black tea-frock I have. Mr. Carruthers shall see I have not caught frumpdom from my hosts.