WOW!!! The first "Ask Suzy" post has hit some sensitive nerves, or simply provided a much-needed outlet. I was going to write about something ecological, but I feel a need to continue with this series. You see, I had more page views for that post than "The Saddest Shopping List Ever" , which was a blog-traffic winner. Now, thanks to your feedback, I have more, more, more relationship issues to tackle. We're going to be at this on a regular basis.
Today's post will cover those painful, embarrassing "You can't really be serious" questions. If you're a "Sex in the City" fan, you know what I mean, the situations you can trust only with your best friends. I've always thought, it's a shame men don't have those caring, but candid, friends to set them straight. That's another Blix!
Let's get to it, then.
Dear Suzy,
I know long-distance relationships are challenging. Still, I like to believe that love conquers all. Plus, we're not kids anymore, right? We should be able to pull this off? Make an adventure of it?
I met someone with whom I could easily spend the rest of my life. He's funny, smart, stable, sexy, etc, etc...you get the picture. We're only a few plane hours apart. We exchanged emails, moved to phone conversations, easily lasting for more than an hour. We talked every day, about everything. We made each other laugh, a must for any successful relationship. It's safe to say we were both smitten.
This all went on for several months, long enough for two mature adults to know that we were very, very--let me say it again, VERY--compatible. Finally, we knew we had to meet. I flew to a nearby city, rented a car, reserved a hotel room. He was to meet me, and we'd go to dinner....and then?.... I felt like a kid waiting for Christmas. The day arrived. I flew, rented, checked in. He came, we met at the bar, then went to the room, if you get my drift. After a champagne toast, a little something something. And he fell asleep. For five hours. I waited. When he eventually woke up, it was too late for dinner, too late for room service. More sleep.
The next morning, he took me to breakfast, both of us starving. We finally had the chance to talk. Great conversation; it was fantastic to be face-to-face. I was ready to really move forward. Then he dropped me off at the hotel, and we had an affectionate good-bye. He called me two hours later, just to talk. He's been silent ever since. The breakfast cost far less than the bottle of Veuve Cliquot I had stopped to buy on the way to the hotel.
What should I do?
Long Distance Lover
Dear Long Distance Lover,
You're kidding, right? You pay for a flight, a car, a room--plus the "preparations" to make yourself totally desirable--and you get BREAKFAST? No red roses, with a mushy love note, waiting on your doorstep when you returned home? No immediate offer to fly your way, adequately rested, and take you out for the romantic dinner you should have shared the first time? I refuse to answer this question. You already know the answer. Let me add that I have known long-distance relationships to flourish for decades. Certainly for long enough to figure out how to be together. It takes time, motivation, and love...when it happens, it's a sight to behold. Don't settle, Chickie.
Suzy
Dear Suzy,
I met a man, a writer. Since I'm a sucker for a great vocabulary, I thought I'd struck paydirt. As we got to know each other, a few red flags started waving. But no one's perfect, right? I'm a total foodie, he's got the palate of a two-year-old. Hates anything except meat and potatoes. Hates flavor in general: onions, mushrooms, anything with olives, all seafood, most fruit, vegetables besides corn, any kind of bean, sushi, yogurt, wine, coffee....see what I mean? Then there's that obsessive-complusive quirk. One evening, I decided to make dinner for him at his place, plain meatloaf. I used his oven to bake sweet potatoes. I put them on foil to keep the oven tidy, or so I thought. Early the next morning, he called me to say that I had "allowed" the potatoes to drip, and he'd spent an hour getting the oven clean again. Could I please be more careful next time?
And the writing thing? Turns out that's the only way he can really express himself. Conversation lags, he tends to mumble, he can barely string a sentence together, and he repeats himself constantly. Romance? Not sizzling. Still, it's nice to have someone to do things with on the weekends. What's your take, Suzy?
Frustrated in Fremont
Dear Frustrated,
You're kidding, right? Here's another one that I'm just going to hand right back. Let's see: little in common, lack of appreciation, and not even decent sex to smooth the rough edges. I'm hard-pressed to think of what you are doing on the weekends that would be remotely fun. Get a life, girlfriend.
Suzy
Hey, steadfast readers, this was not an upbeat blog post! Does anyone have a more optimistic question??? We could use a little cheering up here.
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