EEE - Chicago: Observations, Opinions, and Mindless Drivel: September 2009

My Dear Abby Letters

Dear Abby-
I have a big problem.
My next door neighbor, Harold, walks down the street every morning to buy the newspaper from the box on the corner.
I have told Harold many MANY times that if he were to get a monthly subscription to the newspaper it would save him 23c a day and $1.02 on Sundays - that's an average of $10.42 a month!- AND it would be delivered right to his door every morning.
But Harold refuses to subscribe to the newspaper.
I think this is foolish and irresponsible.
How can I make Harold see the error of his ways?

---

Dear Abby-
I am a basketball coach with a losing record. In fact, my team has not won a single game in four seasons.
Recently, we played a game against a much better team. I knew from the offset that we were horribly out-classed. I haven't gotten around to teaching my girls what a "basket" is yet or how to "dribble" or "pass" - I figure they can learn that later. Or maybe not.
Abby, this other team creamed us. They were well-organized, bright, athletic girls who had been taught how to play the game well.
After the first half we were down 59-0. My team did not back down. I thought that the other team might less us score a couple baskets out of pity or even purposely flub up their defense but they did not. In the end, we lost by 100 points. My girls did not score a single point.
Should I have the other coach fired for being mean? Otherwise, how will these girls ever learn how to be dependent on everyone but themselves for success or how to take handouts?
You'd think we were trying to prepare them to stand on their own or something.
Sheesh.

---

Dear Abby-
I hope you can help me with a problem I've been having.
The problem involves my cousing "Betsy." Now, Betsy is a very sweet girl and I like her a lot, but she is EXHAUSTING.
She has been engaged for nearly six years now and every time she changes her mind about the caterer or the venue or the flowers or the groom, I am the first person she calls. And let me tell you, those phone calls ain't short.
The thought of actually attending her wedding brings me close to tears. I have tried many tactics to get out of this wedding. I insulted her mother, she forgave me; I insulted the groom, she found a new one; I enlisted in a 12-month research program at the South Pole, she postponed her wedding for a year.
Finally, I thought I'd found a way out of attending this wretched event. I got myself arrested and thrown in jail.
You'd think this would be fool-proof right? A sort of "Don't Get Out Of Jail Free" Card.
But no.
I found out this morning that she's been in talks with the Prosecuter to get me released on a three-day pass, under her supervision, so that I can attend all of the wedding events.
Help! I don't know what else to do!

---

Dear Abby,
I have noticed a trend among men to show off their buff, studly biceps. In the summer, short-sleeved shirts are common and some even take their shirts off completely when at the beach or while exercizing.
This is unfair to women. It's just plain sexually arousing to some of us. This can make us extremely uncomfortable.
Personally, when I see a pair of naked, manly arms, I get all gooey and girly and I do NOT like it! I am a mature, rational woman, by god, but there's just something about a nicely formed bicep... Mmmmm......
Dammit, Abby! Why can't men cover up their manly bits so that we women don't get hot and bothered??? I think men should start wearing burqas. What's the best way to make this happen?

---

Dear Abby,
I have a serious problem. I am a shopoholic. It's compulsive. I see things in the store and I just HAVE to buy them. It doesn't even matter what they are: shoes, food, cordless drills, outboard motors (I don't even own a boat! Though I suppose that's only because I've never been to a boat store before!)
A few months ago, I left the house to run to the supermarket and there was such a great sale that I just couldn't bear to leave. Normally, when I get into one of my shopping "trips" the store will eventually close and I'll go home. But Abby! The supermarket is open 24 hours a day!
I found that they had everything I need there: food, drink, reading materials, a public restroom for... eh hem... and a kicking 80s music soundtrack! For the past 12 weeks I have just been filling up my cart and then, when it gets full, I put everything back and start all over again. It's been heaven!
I just found out that the store will be closed from midnight to 6am tomorrow for their semi-annual inventory.
This means I'll have to go home. I called my husband to let him know I'll be back soon and to see if he needs me to pick up a rump roast or some milk.
Abby, he was furious with me!
Should I have suggested a rotisserie chicken instead?

***

Dear Abby,
I'm single and I don't know why.
Here is a list of my requirements in a potential mate:
1. He must be rich. And I don't mean "I own my own house and drive a decent car" rich. I mean "I own my own mulit-billion dollar corporation and have a fleet of private jets at my disposal" rich.
2. He must be hot. I want a face like Brad Pitt on a body with "300" abs.
3. If he is currently married (with or without spawn) he must have an iron-clad Pre-nup so that his future Ex won't get all the goods.
4. He must not have any pesky older relatives that he has to care for in old age unless they are safely tucked away in a home for the old and annoying and kept in a perpetual coma via an IV drip.
5. If he has any children (God forbid!) he must immediately fake a paternity test (if necessary) to prove that he is NOT the father so that he is no longer responsible for them and then he must cut them out of his life for good and sign any trust funds over to me.
6. He must drive either a Bentley or a Rolls. I suppose a Mercedes might do in a pinch, but only if it's a really big one that dumps a monkey ton of greenhouse gases into the environment and gets less than 2 mpg.
7. He must have in his employ no fewer than six hot male lackeys whom I can extort into pleasuring me sexually and then have fired.
8. He must have at least eight homes on six continents as well as a yacht or two.
9. If he has any addictions, they must be to cool drugs like vicadin or coke and nothing "ghetto" like meth or crack.
10. He has to have a sense of humor.
I have yet to find a man who fits my criteria. Am I looking in the wrong places or does the perfect man really NOT exist????

---

Dear Abby,
I have fantastic breasts. Seriously. They're fabulous. Not too big, not too small, round, lush, firm. They're perfect.
My problem is that men are constantly staring at them. I mean ALL the time. I can't remember the last time a man looked me in the eye.(Aside from my cousin Steve - who btw is the BEST SHOPPING PARTNER EVER!!!!)
My sister says that it's my own fault for dressing the way I do, but I think this is a cop out.
Just because I wear t-shirts that are three sizes too small with words emblazed across the front like "Lookie HERE!" and "Yep! They're REAL!" does not give men (and some women?!?!) the right to ogle me.
Does it??

---

Dear Abby,
Two months ago I read this wonderful book called "Treat Your Husband Like a Hound and Gain a Loyal Slobbering Slave for Life."
It worked great!
For every good thing he did, I'd give him a treat (usually a strip of bacon or a chunk of cheese but sometimes a little nookie if he was a VERY good boy)
And when he was bad, I'd swat him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper or squirt water in his face.
Everything was great for the first six weeks or so, but now things have started to change and not for the better.
Last week he tracked mud all over the house and before that, he piddled twice on my great grandmother Enid's heirloom rug!
I suppose I could live with these things, but yesterday I found out he knocked up the betch down the street!
Should I have him neutered?

---

Dear Abby,
Recently I went to a family gathering and my 7yo grand-nephew, my niece's child, said to me: "You have grey hair!"
Abby, I have never been so offended in my life. What right did this little punk have to tell me that my hair is grey? It's "carolina blue" thank you very much, and cost me a pretty penny, too!
My response to this officious little brat was: "Yeah? Well you're ugly and no one loves you!"
My niece is very angry with me. I told her that she is a horrible parent and will burn in hell.
How long should I wait for her to apologize before I write her out of my will?

---

Dear Abby,
I am a smoking hot, uber-smart, super-cool chick. In essence: the PERFECT woman.
I think my boyfriend might be stepping out on me.
Rather than actually speaking to him about my concerns, I've decided to snoop around online to see what sort of trouble he might be getting into.
My problem is that, while I'm uber-smart as I mentioned before, I still have six weeks left until I defend my dissertation and become a fully qualified nnD (Doctor of Nauseating Narcissism)
Should I wait to perform my investigation until after I've received my nnD, or can I ask my 11yo niece to do the Google search for me???

---

Dear Abby,
Our family is quite poor and in order for our 18 beautiful children (#19 is on the way and I'm THRILLED!) to attend the local charity school, I must pull them 7 miles uphill along a dirt trail in a rusty old cart on my way into town for my daily 16-hour shift at the lumbermill.
My husband, who has been out of work for the past 27 years due to a pathological fear of telephones, recently won $500 million in the local lottery. (He's SO LUCKY! The only thing I ever won was a ritual stoning!)
As a gift to me, he presented me with brand-new padded seats for the pull cart. I'm speechless with gratitude! (Also I lost my voice six years ago after an untreated throat infection when our insurance ran out)
My problem is that my husband has taken my silence to be dissatisfaction with his generous and thoughtful gift. He is threatening to leave me. How do I convince him that he's the best thing that ever happened to me???

---

Dear Abby,
I have a friend, we'll call her "Amy" who likes to dispense advice. Very frequently, her advice completely misses the mark.
When this is pointed out to her, Amy turns around and tells her critics that they are "misunderstanding" her response.She outright refuses to acknowledge when she is in the wrong.
How can we make her see that stubbornly holding to her guns when she is wrong does nothing for her credibility?

---

Dear Abby,
Help!!! I agreed to stand up in my e-friends Angelique & Polarity's wedding AND to help plan it. But I think in my excitement I jumped the gun.
I forgot that I have a sex-change op scheduled a month prior to the wedding.
What should I do? Should I tell them the truth or lie and invent a sick relative in the Old Country??? I worry that my reassignment will throw off their boy-girl ratio and they'll never forgive me.

---

Dear Abby,
I am engaged to marry a wonderful man who cares for me deeply, values my opinion, and is fantastic in the sack.
However, he has one infuriating habit that I fear will be the end of us: He replaces the toilet paper roll so that the loose end dangles UNDER the roll despite the fact that I have nagged him repeatedly that the paper should be hung so that the loose end hands OVER the roll!
He refuses to hang the roll properly.
I am considering breaking things off with him. What do you think?

---

Dear Abby,
I am in love with a complete c*ckscab. "Dick" and I have been together for eight years and he has never once had a kind word for me. He treats me like a genital lice infestion and openly scorns my opinions, concerns, and wishes. He calls me names and has continually lied to me since the beginning of our relationship. Any money I make goes straight into Dick's bank account and I must beg him for bus fare every morning. Since we've been together he has fathered three children by three different women. One of them was his wife! (He has since divorced her but he has never mentioned marrying me)
My problem is that my family and friends refuse to accept Dick in my life. They tell me that unless I kick Dick to the curb, they can have nothing more to do with me.
Abby, I love Dick with all my heart. How can my family be so thoughtless and cruel as to ask me to give him up? How can I tell them that their actions hurt me?

---

Dear Abby,
I am blind as a bat. I can't see four inches in front of my face without my glasses.I refuse to wear my glasses in public. I frequently bump into things and go through the wrong doors. Last week I used the men's restroom at the Brown Derby by mistake and didn't notice until I tripped over the urinal.I can't read a menu on my own and I'm never sure what I'm eating. And don't even get me started with how hard it is to drive! I hit something the other day - I'm fairly sure it was a Yeti - and now there's an unsightly dent in the front fender of my Town Car.Worst of all, I accidently purchased the wrong tint of hair color the other day and now instead of my usual Tiffany Blue, my hair is Periwinkle. It looks so tacky!My real problem is my friend Hazel. Last week, I was at a party at her home and mistakenly made out with her husband Herb in the pantry. Abby, I THOUGHT I was making out with my boyfriend Walter. Now Hazel refuses to talk to me.How can I convince her that this was just a silly misunderstanding that could have been avoided if Herb would stop wearing the same color shirt as Walter?

---

Dear Abby,
I have a serious problem. I have been married to a wonderful man, we'll call him "Harvey" for twelve years. He's rich, handsome, great in the sack and loves to do housework. My problem is that "Harvey" is imaginary. We talked about
this a lot early in our relationship and decided that we would not letter other people's hangups and opinions affect our feelings for one another.
But lately, the strain has been wearing on me. My family and friends refuse to acknowledge "Harvey" when I bring him to events. They scorn me openly and keep trying to schedule counselling sessions for me.
What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I can't get anyone to take me seriously.
I come from a very wealthy family and have always been pampered and adored.
My troubles began several years ago when a video of my then-boyfriend and I in a compromising and sweaty situation got leaked onto the internet. From there it just went downhill. My BFF and I were on a reality TV show and we tried our best to live like "normal" people, but it's HARD!!!
I've partied hard for years, but recently I've started to have trouble with the law. I got several DUIs (I routinely drive drunk and don't see what the big deal is!) and the paparazzi managed to get several pictures of my hoo-hah when I
was out partying commando-style.
I really don't understand why people won't take me seriously. Is there anything I can do to improve my rep?
Sincerely Paris H., Los Angeles CA

----

Dear Abby,
None of my friends will come to my home for dinner any more. I don't understand why. I always go out of my way to prepare tasty, healthy meals, though because of my budget these meals often include ingredients that are slightly past their
recommended sell-by dates. I've always been told that these dates are merely suggestions and my guests almost never get *seriously* ill.
The last time I had a dinner party, one of my friends pulled me aside and complained that she had found several cat hairs in the salad. Abby, I have 37 cats. Surely a little cat hair is to be expected.
Another friend complained that there was nowhere to sit because every available surface was covered in stacks of newspapers. All my friends KNOW that I cannot
bear to throw newspapers away (they might be valuable someday!) and they know that my home is fairly small. Now that the bedroom, bathroom, and livingroom are full, I HAVE to start storing my newspapers in the diningroom.
Should I start looking for friends who are not so snobby and rude or try to reform the friends I have?

----

Dear Abby,
My baby-daddy keep asking me for a paternity test. I don't know why he think these kids ain't his. Yeah, I had me some boyfriends over the years and I ain't always so careful about condoms (dam, they expensive!) but what right he got to
be saying these kids ain't his? He got blond hair and blue eyes and he thinks that means something. Our oldest got brown hair and brown eyes and the middle one was born two years into his last stretch at Joliet and the youngest look a
lot like my sister's ex-husband. Ain't mean these ain't his kids.
How can I make him stop buggin me 'bout this?

----

Dear Abby,
I hope you can help me. My left sock is a quitter. The elastic is completely shot. I keep pulling it up but it keeps falling back down. It is very annoying.
My problem is that my right sock is perfectly fine. The elastic is nice and tight, there are no holes. It is a perfect sock.
What should I do? Do I throw away both socks because of the failure of one? Or do I suck it up and try to go the distance?

----

Dear Abby,
I think my girlfriend is still involved with her Ex. She has him listed as #1 on the 5-Favs of her cell phone (I do not make the cut) and will spend hours talking to him in hushed tones each night.
I have been trying to get her to go away with me for a long weekend for months but she is always too busy. The other day I found out she booked the two of them on a week-long, couples-only cruise to the Carribean.
She says that she loves me and wants to be with me but last night I stopped by her place unexpectedly and she was
in bed with her Ex. They were both naked and sweaty. She told me that she had had a nightmare and he came over to comfort her and that all they'd done was cuddle.
Should I believe her?

----

Dear Abby,
My husband and I are financially irresponsible. Recently, we realized that we would be able to manage our finances better if we did not have the burden of utilities, food, and mortgage so we asked my sister if we could mooch off of her.
She said no! I was shocked and distraught by this betrayal and have turned into a raging slut and adulterer as a result.
I don't know if I can or should ever forgive my sister. How can I make her see how much damage she has done to our family?

----

Dear Abby,
I am having a true test of conscience. On my way to work last week, I accidentally stepped on an ant on the sidewalk.
I realized immediately what I had done, but instead of stopping to offer aid to the ant, I rushed away. I am now swamped with guilt. I just keep thinking about that poor ant and his poor family. Who will feed his children? Who will help build the ant hill in the spring? Who will invade my neighbor's peony bush?
I am feeling true remorse but I don't know what to do to make proper reparations. Some days it is all I can do to get out of bed. Please help me.

----

Dear Abby,
I am deathly afraid of paperclips. There is a job opening at my company that pays nearly twice as much as I am currently being paid. Unfortunately, the job title for this position is "Paperclip Gatherer/Sorter" and it would require me
to be in close proximity with paperclips all day, every day.
I feel that my company discriminates against people with Paperclip-phobia and have filed a grievence with my union. I feel that they should allow me to continue working at my current job but pay me the same that they would pay the
Paperclip Gatherer/Sorter.
The union has refused to move forward with my grievence. What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I have been with my current boyfriend for nearly a year now and everything is great except that he says he can't stand me.
I ran into him a the grocery store a couple weeks ago, after waiting in the parking lot for an hour, and he dove to hide behind a display of Spaghetti-Os when he saw me. He doesn't answer my calls and even changed his cell phone number.
Things came to a head when he moved out of his apartment without telling me first. It took me a month, two Private I's, and $300 to track him down again - TWO STATES AWAY!!!!!!
Now he's threatening to get a restraining order against me. I invited him to my step-brother's wedding next weekend but haven't gotten an answer yet. Should I just assume he's coming?

----

Dear Abby,
My wife claims that I never finish what I start. This is patently untrue. Sure, I've got a few unfinished projects around the house and I never completed college (2 credits left) but there has always been a good reason...

----

Dear Abby,
My boss is complaining that I don't complete enough work each day. He claims I "goof off" too much. I don't know what he wants from me. What with getting coffee and muffins, catching up on the latest gossip, lunch, and writing fake
letters to advice columnists online, there just isn't enough time in the day to finish all the "projects" he keeps giving me.
How do I tell him to get off my back?

----

Dear Abby,
My coworker is a jerk.
Three times in the past month one of the elevators has been out of order. The last time it happened, I filled out a help-desk request and gave it to Gary, the IT guy, who happens to sit right next to me. I explained to Gary that when only
2 of the 3 elevators are running, they cars become crowded and slow and I asked him to please fix them immediately.
Gary got angry with me, telling me that the elevators were not part of his "job." Abby, when I first started at our company, I was told to take any "equipment issues" to Gary. Surely the elevators count as equipment?!
I have had trouble with Gary in the past, like when the lunchroom ran out of coffee filters and the bathroom sink clogged. Both times he refused to do anything to fix these situations.
I don't know if I can continue to work with such a lazy, irresponsible scofflaw.
Should I try to get Gary fired?

----

Dear Abby,
I got a credit card application in the mail. It offered me an unlimited credit limit and a LOW-LOW-LOW "introductory rate."
I was trilled! Finally I was able to do all the things I'd wanted to do but could not afford on my minium-wage salary. I bought myself a new car, bought all new furniture, took a couple of cruises, and had my boobs done.
My problem is that now this credit card company is expecting me to pay them back?! I did not ask for this card, they just sent it to me. It shouldn't be my fault that I used it and I do not think I should have to pay it back.
The collection agency they hired to put a lein on my house and garnish my wages says differently.
Which of us is right?

----

Dear Abby,
I recently discovered that my arch-nemesis is actually my father. I have been fighting this man for years and last time we met, he even cut off my hand.
He is a truly horrible person, if "person" is the right word. He was severely burned many years ago and has to walk around in a big black suit that operates as a portable iron-lung. My mentor once even said "He's more machine now than man."
He is arguably the second-most powerful man in the entire galaxy and I'm wondering what I'm entitled to. Should I sue him for back support? My mother died long ago and I was raised by an uncle who treated me more like an indentured servant than a nephew. I feel that I'm owed something for all the years my father was too busy terrorizing the universe to spare time to raise his son.
Also he wears a cape. I'd like to tell him that capes are both dangerous and pretentious but he killed the last man who disagreed with him. What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
Recently I purchased a compass from a normally reputable store. I got it home, took it out of its packaging and discovered that it was broken.
The arrow always points North. No matter which way which way I turn, it still points North. I tried turning it upside down, I even tried whipping it around very fast but the arrow still continues to point North!?!
I tried to return it to the store, but the replacement compass they gave me does the EXACT SAME THING!!! I even tried another (more expensive) model and still the thing insists on pointing North.
Every time I come into the store to complain, the clerk looks at me like I'm stupid. They've offered to refund my money but I don't want my money back. I want a working compass.
What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I am always late. Whether it be work, church, or social engagements, I simply cannot arrive at my destination on time.
My boss tells me that I need to manage my time better, but I disagree. You see, it is never my fault that I am late. Sometimes the bus is late or gets stuck in traffic, sometimes I need to stop for coffee and a bagel, sometimes I just can't get my hair to curl just right and I have to wash it all over again.
My friends have stopped inviting me out, which is totally unfair. For a while they "tricked" me by lying about our meeting time, but I quickly caught on.
How can I convince them to be more patient?
Oops, gotta run, Abby, I was supposed to pick up my father for my mother's funeral half an hour ago!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Second Wave

I'm being invaded again.

This time it's just my mom and dad (Jo and her spawn are staying home)

And there's not much need to entertain them. We'll hang out. We'll eat. We'll talk. We'll read our respective books.

It'll be difficult. But it'll be nice to see them. And at least this time I don't have to share the futon with a kid who's all knees and elbows...

I may not get my home to myself - but at least I'll have the futon all to my own.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Braille Parking

I get more flat tires than anyone I know.

And for someone who only drives (at most) 3,000 miles a year, that's quite a feat.

And I can never blame them on potholes or road rubbish. It's always my own fault. I'm not a bad driver - really I'm not.

In fact, my flats rarely occur when I'm actually driving the car. More often, I come back to where I've parked the thing and find the tire flat (and it's always the same tire)

My flats are never from a nail in the tread or a dented rim or any of the usual suspects. And I can never just get it patched or refilled. I always - ALWAYS - end up buying a new tire.

Because I rip the shit out of the sidewall.

Every time.

And I know how this happens. I parallel park by feel.

How close am I to the car in front of me?
*bump*
There it is!

How close am I to the car behind me?
*bump*
There it is!

How close am I to the curb?
*rubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb*
Yep! There it is!

It's really a crime. Today's tire only had 6,000 miles on it.

So now it's time to play musical tires again: figure out which two are best and put them on the front...

I still have a leftover tire from the last time I did this and bought two new tires so I'll have that remounted - but now I need to buy a trunk organizer b/c that tire kept my trunk in pretty good order...

Oh well!

Happy Equinox, all!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

King Rebate

Every once in a while, I open my mailbox and find a check or a postcard redeemable for cash.

Since I lack follow-through and almost always fail to mail in the mail-in-rebates for "sale" items I buy, 99 times out of 100 these rebates can be traced back to my dad.

He is the king of the mail-in-rebate. He's able to recoup an awful lot of money this way.

As I said, every so often I find these rebates in MY mailbox - usually because my dad has exceeded the number of rebates he can have delivered to *his* household.

When I collected my mail this morning (I'm bad about collecting it daily) I found not one but TWO rebates - and not the usual piddly $2 or $3 rebates. There was a postcard from Menards for $33 and a check from Budweiser for $15.

The Menards cards are pretty common. But a check from Budweiser? What was that about?

So I called him to find out.

E3: Hi Daddy
Dad: Hi, E3. What's up?
E3: Why am I getting a check for $15 from Budweiser?
Dad: Woooeeeeee!!! You won't believe this deal! I went to the store and they had a deal where if you buy two steaks and a 12-pack of Bud you get $15 back. Steaks were $7.50 each so essentially the steaks were free and you know I'll drink the beer eventually.
E3: But why did you mail it here?
Dad: Well. I bought four! I sent rebates to myself, you, David, and Jo.
E3: Um... So... You bought eight steaks and four cases of beer??
Dad: Yep! Helluva deal!
E3: And you weren't even having a party?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Paranoia

So my neighbor just called me.

I rarely get calls on my cell phone while I'm at work. I don't get good reception in here and most people email me if they want to get ahold of me.

Seeing that it was my neighbor was sort of like getting that 1am phone call: This can't be good!

As I'm fumbling with the "OK" button I'm getting flashes of my apartment on fire or my cat having leapt through the window screen or a dishwasher mishap on the third floor resulting in flooding through the building.

But no.

The managment company is cleaning the storage area today and anything not inside storage closets will be disposed of. My neighbor's closet is packed to busting. Mine has plenty of space and she just wanted to stash a couple chairs in there for a while and needed the combination to my lock.

Whooo!

Silly me.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

First Fight

Got into my first fight with B on Sunday night.

It was stoopid - as all fights are - and really just amounted to a breakdown in communication.

But it was good. A few things got cleared up and I got to see his fighting style.

It's different from mine.

But that's to be expected.

I now have a better feel for what's in his head (he's not ever gonna be one of those guys who volunteers intimate information) and I can relax a bit about some things that were bothering me.

Of course, we kissed and made up. And then made up again.

:D

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Analysis

So, I've given this a lot of thought. I've pondered it. I've weighed it. I've looked at from every angle imaginable.

And I've come to the conclusion that I over-analyze stuff.

I've also realized something very simple: Men do NOT do this.

Men do not analyze and re-analyze and over-analyze things.

They don't worry about what they're going to say to us and how we might interpret (or mis-interpret) it.

They don't run practice scripts past their friends before sending mundane emails.

They don't re-read our texts and try to find the hidden meaning in "I'll let you know"

Because to a man "I'll let you know" means, simply "I'll let you know"

Go figure.

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