Close your eyes ...

Some think that I’m too hard on men. While I can see how one might think such a thing, I would propose that am amazingly "soft" when men need it most. Sure, most shit makes me crazy. But, I’d rather be clement when others couldn't be. In exchange, I’m tough when others don’t care so much. One example of my "toughness" is the tendency to surprise. It’s usually done improperly, causing confusion and chipped nails.

Surprises. If you look at the etymology of the word, it means “take over.” Many people in my experience enjoy surprises. While I can’t understand why, I have tried to guess at this peculiar preference. Pleasant surprises, I would argue, provide people with something nice without having to plan or pay for it. I can see the appeal, kind of.

Let it be no surprise, then, that I despise a surprise. I’ll admit; I’m a control freak with things that matter. If I let someone “take over,” I’ve lost some of that control. A flaw? Depends on your perspective. Either way, I work hard at avoiding surprises. Life is enough of a mystery without people hiding shit only to spring it on you like a mouse from the sewer.

When you’ve been coupled long enough, it becomes harder to surprise the one with whom you spend most of your time. I always wonder about those holidays hiding games. The best example is that shitty Lexus commercial that is on every December where one spouse surprises the other with a car! Where I come from, buying a car is a big deal, involving banks, co-signers, and preparation by fasting and prayer. How do you slip that one by the sweetie who signs checks from your same book?

For clarity’s sake, I’m not talking about “surprises” that are the results of repeatedly dropped hints. For example, “Oh, honey, wouldn’t a large bottle of this scent be nice?” Or, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have dinner there?” Or, even, “How nice would it be not to have your side of the family over this Thanksgiving? You know, something small and quiet?” Do a bitch a favor, and take a hint.

Yes, the longer you’re together, the harder it is to hide things. But, if you manage to succeed, the surprise is often worth hiding. This is either because he’ll die when I found out, or because it’s something big. And, that’s where my biggest problems lie. If something that large is going to be presented to me, I have to know. I’ll need time to do my hair and/or scream “Absolutely not!”

The longer I’m with Daniel, the more afraid I become of surprises from him. The only curve balls that he has thrown lately have, ironically, gotten him thrown across the room. This is the part where I stress the centrality of communication, communication before the surprise. Someone could get hurt …

Oh, and I can’t ignore the fine line between the sexiness of taking the initiative and the unpleasantness of surprises. Don’t confuse them. And, don’t pass one off for the other when it isn’t the case.

The bliss of relationships. The road gets rough when careful judgment is not considered. Growing up, I remember hearing “Think before you speak.” Only in dating have I come to understand how much it is appreciated. Even with the right guy, the wrong words can move you to violence of the most pathetic sort. With everything else going on these days, the only surprises I can handle are those that involve bourbon and a lease to an apartment on the West Side.