Disconnects

Yet another Thursday has rolled around, hence we have yet another riveting episode of As The Divas Turn, which is being sponsored today by Proctor and Gamble. Well, no, not really, but I wish it was. I could use a bit of that household product payola---I think everyone could, in fact. Ah, but, as usual, I digress...

Our topic today: What women/men say and what they really mean and why do men grunt instead of speaking?

Now, I don't know who threw in the "Why do men grunt when speaking" but that sounds like more like someone's beef with their significant other than an actual topic so I will address that one first because it sounds like someone needs my help demystifying a few things.

And we all know I'm about demystifying things for my devoted Cake Eater Readers.

Ahem.

Why do men grunt when speaking? Well, it's because they can. They can get away with making sounds like that, so they do it. Women, being the dainty little things that we are, can't get away with making sounds like that. It would be considered impolite if a woman made a sound like that, grunting going into the "not very ladylike" catgory of incorrect female behavior, which, let's face it, is the largest category of incorrect female behavior---by a long chalk. It's pretty simple.

Anyway, as far as the difference between what people say and what they mean, well, what exactly is new there, eh, kids? People---man or woman---always say one thing and mean another. That's just the way the world works.

However, it's how you a. suss out the difference between what's said and what's meant and b.handle the difference that matters. You could be a moonbat about it: you could whine on about lies, lies, more lies, the inequity of the lies, that the lies are loud and are told by bigger liars with the ever evil lying megaphone of the conspiracy to kill puppies for profit, ad nauseam, ad infinitum. In other words whining about the lying liars and the liars who love them being your only solution to the problem. Oh, and you'd light the occasional candle and sing "Give Peace a Chance" with Mother Sheehan every now and again, but really, all you care about is bitching about the lying. Or you could be like a Marine: you could recognize the problem, and then you could adapt and improvise to overcome the problem.

As the philosopher John McClane once said: If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. Stop being a part of the problem! So it shouldn't take a great leap of the imagination, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, to guess which option I would recommend you take in divining the truth of your significant other's words.

First, you must in fact realize that there will sometimes, indeed, be a disconnect between what someone says and what they mean. As pointed out above, that's just the way the world works. Second, you must realize that, generally speaking, there's no harm meant in the disconnect. In fact, I would venture a guess and say that when you spot a disconnect, it's that there is enough vulnerability going around to choke a horse. Case in point: when I ask the husband "Do I look fat in this?" He will correctly divine that, yes indeedy, I'm feeling a wee bit sensitive about my body at that point in time, and will---correctly, in my humble opinion---dodge like a mo'fo. He knows that lying isn't an option. That if he says, "no, darling, your ass is as small as a grain of rice," I'll know he's lying. He also knows that telling the truth isn't an option here, either. Because if my ass is, indeed, reminiscent of the rear end of a 1950's Buick, I don't want to hear about it---the brutal truth not always being the best option if you'd like to keep your head attached to your body. The husband, instead of lying or telling the truth, will dodge with a convenient, "You know there's no right answer to that question, so why do you bother asking?" See, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, is he not clever? He has, in one fell swoop, thrown that live grenade back to me, and I can guaran-frickin'-tee you that he's hoping and praying I'm going to stick the pin back in, in essence, leaving it at that. He has, indeed, adapted, improvised and overcome. At this stage of the game, he would be well within his rights to say, "Hoo-ah," in a manner reminiscent of Clint Eastwood, and shove a cigar in his mouth to celebrate the fact he's still alive.

But enough of my bloviating, go forth and read what the Sadie, Silk and Phoenix have written on the topic. Also make sure to check out one of our newest Divaesques, Miss Vile, yet another Kiwi, whom we're very glad to have with us on this adventure.

For the testosterone laden perspective, go and read StiggyPUFFY (Wait a minute. You've changed your blogging persona---again? What's this "Cloud" shit? Sorry, darling, but I'm not squeezing the Charmin this time round. It's getting confusing, so I'm going back to calling you PUFFY. Because, damnit, that's the one you started off with and it's the easiest. Even if you are no longer the world's first highly evolved blogging fish, I still like it.), Phin, The Naked Villains and Jamesyboy. Our guest XY'er this week is That 1 Guy from Drunken Wisdom.

Posted by Kathy at November 17, 2005 01:04 PM | TrackBack