Wooing is as wooing does.

8/03/2012 The Lady 2 Comments

My love life (like life? infatuation life?) is quickly becoming increasingly more complicated. You see, it generally helps to compartmentalize the men you are interested in. For example, Colonel Brandon is the man I devote my energies to at work. He is not something I worry about outside that realm. Mr. Rival is my long-distance phone affair. His path will never become mixed up with any of the others'. If the men I'm interested in remain in their respected spheres, I generally do not have any issues. I can woo each at will. (Note: I am not a professional "woo-er". As you can tell by my inability to actually find a husband). However, things have become a bit messy on my end. I have inadvertently caught four men from my ward in my net (this does not mean that these men are head over heels in love with me, just simply intrigued...?!?). Three of whom are roommates, and the best of friends. A major error on my end. Not to mention the fact that I have spent significant amounts of time with each of them in the past week...

Let us dissect them one by one.

1. Dobby

For some inexplicable reason, this guy just reminds me of an over-enthusiastic house-elf. And in case you happened to be wondering, I am not interested in house-elves. Dobby is sweet and energetic, and not at all a bad person to be around, but just like Dobby in the HP books and movies, I tend to tune out completely the moment he shows up. When Dobby begins to talk to me (which he does incessantly) about whatever it is he talks about (because I really don't know what he talks about), I find myself daydreaming about what I will cook for dinner or how I should train to become an Olympic gymnast or swimmer or a team rower. The other interesting thing about Dobby in HP is that anytime he popped round, something dangerous/awkward happened to Harry. The same is true for this human form of Dobby. He just follows me about like a pet leaving a trail of awkward moments behind him.

2. The Preacher

I have only briefly mentioned The Preacher once because I thought that it was impossible for any issues to arise. As I mentioned before, The Preacher is a great great guy. Exceptional even. He has some quirks, but who doesn't? The problem is that I can sense his mounting attachment to me. And it is oh so flattering, but the problem is, I am not attracted to him. There is just something there that does not and cannot mesh. Although I did have the mother of all awkward moments with him just last Sunday at ward choir practice. You see, I have become accustomed to receiving hugs from guys quite frequently. It is just something that happens in my life. Whether I enjoy it or not is a different topic entirely. The most frequent of these hugs is the side hug. Ugh. I hate side hugs, but I suppose it would just be rude to reject them.

So there I was after choir, chatting with some fellow choir members when The Preacher came up to me. He extended his arm towards my shoulder and I thought to myself, "Ah, the dreaded side hug." So I lifted up my arm to return the hug, but just as I did so, The Preacher's hand stopped on my shoulder and gave it a gentle pat. He was giving me a pat on the back! That would have been just fine and dandy if I hadn't been expecting a side hug. So there we were, his hand on my shoulder and my hand awkwardly grasped on his elbow, as it had only made it that far before The Preacher began to pat. Only to continue to swim about in the pool of awkwardness that we had fallen into, The Preacher kept his hand on my shoulder the entire time we were talking, and so I (in a complete loss as to what I should do) kept my arm on his elbow in this horribly unrefined arm wrestle. How is that for elbow touching?

3. Lord Byron

At least once in every girl's life, she meets a man who creates utter chaos in her life. She finds herself to be attracted to this man for no reason at all other than the fact that she just wants to make out with him. (Pardon my French). That my friends, is Lord Byron. He's just that guy that is unattainable and forbidden. But the bad news for me is that Lord Byron and I are increasingly becoming better and better friends. He is excellent company and the more time I spend with him, the better he seems to become. Not only is he make out worthy, but he's just a remarkable human being. But in two weeks, his lordship will become even more unattainable as he is moving to a distant land to have adventures of all sorts. I would not be surprised if he became involved in some sort of revolutionary outrage and had a wonderfully tragic love affair with an exotic beauty and then somehow died of something surprisingly ordinary such as a violent cold.

4. Clive

Oh, Clive. To me, we are suited for each other so perfectly, I am still confused as to why we haven't already been married for several years. We're so similar in tastes, pursuits, and temperament that I am sure we could be one of those truly great couples that you admire because they are just that: great. But Clive sort of does what he will and cannot be forced into anything. He just does not date. (And yes, he likes girls). I am almost 96.3278% certain that I was his first and only date this entire year. What makes Clive confusing to me is his spontaneous bouts of flirtatious energy. Me being a fairly consistent flirt-er, I am always frustrated when men flirt with me one day and not the next. Shouldn't we just flirt with each other 24/7? On Sunday last, Clive's burst of flirtation was so strong it was akin to a nuclear explosive. (He had been repressing it for a while). The result of which ended in a somewhat indecent wrestling match between him and myself. Reckless abandon. Reckless, reckless, reckless. I am certain that if I could have several more years to slowly woo Clive, things would work out. Unfortunately, Clive leaves for Anonymous Ivy League School next week. Oh, woe is me!


I must have a disease. This is just out of hand.

Con Amor,
The Lady