hey pretty

Ceci n'est pas une "dating blog."

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Guess Who's NOT Coming to Dinner?

It's been almost two months so I decided it was time to tell my mom about Sailor. In the past, I have gushed to her about my boys at the slightest hint of interest, but since I seem to cycle through them so, um, efficiently, it has seemed wiser lately to hold out on certain pieces of information until situations seem a bit more stable. It's all about message control, as the PR pros would say.

Some background on my mother: WASP upbringing, rebelled against her New England conservative parents in the 60s to be the quintessential anti-war protester, eloped with my dad in the early 70s, experienced progression of identities following that union from Vermont hippy to upper-middle class executive's wife throwing dinner parties on fine china and sterling, blah blah blah. There's no need to wonder where my love for luxury trappings, progressive political leanings and tendency towards mildly confusing bouts of rebellion comes from. Look no further, my friends.

Anway.

I have always maintained the suspicion that my mom's ideal partner for me would be somebody from a well-to-do family, with liberal politics, into literature and art, patient beyond belief, kind, good looking, and most likely from New England as well. Such a man does not exist by the way, I have looked. Since moving to DC I have disappointed her many a time by selecting short-term mates who meet few if any of these criteria. She seems to think that limousine liberals in vintage Brooks Brothers grow on trees here, and perhaps they do, but certainly not in the circles I roll in. After the Republican bartender I promised her my days of dating conservative boys were over (because surely politics is entirely to blame for inter-personal communication problems, right? right?) And I held to that promise for a whole two months. Of course, semi-vintage installments of HP will reflect my ambivalence towards involving myself with Sailor due to extreme cultural differences. So sue me, you see now what I had to work with and how that may have been a might confusing. Also note, that I haven't brooded over those differences in weeks.

So I told her about Sailor. That I am seeing a southern Republican who also just happens to be an commissioned military officer (something I have developed a ton of pride for, to be honest). That he drives a completely hot gas guzzling pickup, that he likes country music and calls me "girl." That he's kind and respectful and understanding and (mostly) treats me better than I have been treated by any boyfriend.

*crickets chirping*

Ma? You there?

Right, sorry. Could you repeat that?

I SAID blah, blah, blah, blah.

Ma: Sounds sort of creepy.

And there you have it. I'm sure she certainly doesn't begrudge me my happiness, but the current match up clearly does not fit Ma's picture of her ideal potential future son-in-law. Ironic considering that she eloped, and her mother certainly did not marry a man her parents approved of either.

Certain tendencies among the women in our family appear to be decidedly genetic.

7 Comments:

Blogger Lickety Split said...

Oh, HP. What can I say? Did you ever see "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"? That's my life except for the part about the family accepting the spouse in the end...

Ma will not be around forever and that means that HP has to be happy and HP has to remain happy beyond mama's lifetime. I am sure she can learn to love someone if she sees that you truly love them and importantly that he respects and cares for you. Parents have a strange way of coming around most of the time.

6:07 PM  
Blogger sparkles anonymous! said...

Oh, Lord. Moms and their nutball reactions to boyfriends. I could write a book about this (and practically have, honestly).

So . . . whaddaya gonna do?

6:22 PM  
Blogger Ryane said...

haha...yes, mothers are crazy when it comes to that (all?) stuff, which is why I rarely tell mine anything until I have a serious situation. Otherwise, I get phone calls that start off with, "Ryane, I think I am worried about you..."

"MoooooooooooooooMMM..."

And inevitably, she always starts these convos when I am at work...

Sailor sounds like the real deal, to me--if he's half the things you say he is, then he's a keeper...politics or no.

7:07 PM  
Blogger Irish Red said...

DUDE - your mom and mine were seperated at birth it sounds like. Except for the fact that MY mother ended up marrying the pickup truck driving, republican, Texan!

She doesnt want me to make the same 'mistake' apparently.

Oy!

9:26 PM  
Blogger Lickety Split said...

Ain't nuthin' wrong with Texans...I am one. Of course, I am not a Republican...and well I don't drive a pickup...and I live in Connecticut,...anyway ;)

Whatever makes you happy girls. Mama doesn't have to sleep with them, wake up to them or deal with them,...

9:52 PM  
Blogger Hey Pretty said...

What I intend to do about it is carry on as I have been all along: dating Sailor. Chances are, with his eminent deployment, this is not a long term affair. But a girl can have fun while it lasts, and this winter promises to be cold one, so I'll need some way to keep warm, right?

8:39 PM  
Blogger Libberash said...

Hey Pretty!! Sometimes guys can be really bad on paper and so good in life that it negates all of your preconceived ideas of what you want in a mate. Moms don't usually remember that this is the case. But if he treats you better than anyone else, that's really all that matters.

11:09 PM  

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