Friday, March 28, 2008

Dear Lynyrd Skynyrd...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

As a young lady, my grandmother went out on dates with quite a few attractive young gentlemen before marrying my grandfather. They took her rollerskating, to concerts, to dinner and to other venues where fun is had. They were cordial for the most part, and (except for that obnoxious one that wouldn't take a hint, who she was forced to push down the stairs) expected little more than an enjoyable evening out. There was a distinct lack of pressure to see the same boy from week to week, and it was not frowned upon to see two different boys in the same weekend. Why have things changed, Bitter Amanda? Why must everyone be so serious? Why the push from some innocent flirting and a nice skate around the roller rink to one-and-only-even-though-I-just-met-you-last-week type thinking? Can't a girl just get some ice cream with a nice young man with out him demanding sole ownership of her affections?

A Free Bird

Dear Lynyrd Skynyrd,
If only. My grandmother's diary (I had to pick the lock to read it. Totally worth it.) is full of stories about going out with various men and makes it sound very casual and fabulous. Sure, she swoons over them in print, but it was really very innocent. I don't know why we've gotten away from that. I'm willing to blame men, though. And sex. I'm fairly certain my gram wasn't banging every dude she went to a movie with. (If she was, she did not journal those particular events. Thank you for that, by the way.) People are having sex earlier in the relationship, which is fine. Have at it! Go nuts. Whatever. Go away.
I'm definitely not against sex. (Just not in public. Keep that shit at home.) It just turns our options into Serious Relationship or Casual Sex. Where is the Casual Relationship? It gets lost. (I guess you could also ask where the Serious Sex is. But that is not something I have an answer for, unfortunately.)
Men, I implore you: casually date. It's ok! Women will accept! Just don't make us push you down the stairs. (You go, grandmas of the world.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

PS--Yes, am burning journals when I reach old age. *ba

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