Heart Matters; Adrienne's Column [blog]

[rocky]

_{This is Adrienne's Column, in Plush Magazine. It is also published on their website, so for the purposes of the RPG it operates like an in-character blog.}

The Numbers Game
Ladies! We've all been there, it's three months into a brand new relationship and it's going just a little too well; your new man is sweet, funny, attentive, he listens (or at least makes an adequate pretence of listening) when you talk, he's gorgeous, and you can't stop yourself from wondering... is he too good to be true?

If you're at all like me, you can't help but pick at a loose thread, unravelling your favourite sweater even as you tell yourself you're destroying it. The urge for self-sabotage is inbuilt. Let me tell you about Chad. It's not his real name, but I think Chad just about sums up the stereotype.

Chad was a small town boy who had moved to the Big Apple to make his fortune. His 'fortune' was somewhat on hold as he worked as a waiter, and I met him while I was actually on a date with somebody else (you'd think that would be his first clue. As an aside, in my next column I may write about the dangers of OkCupid, and why I ended up seeing our waiter, instead of the gentleman I was out with that night. Let me tell you: the reason the windows in the ladies' room are so small is so that we can't fit out of them in a pinch).

So. Chad and I are off to an awkward start, because he's a waiter and I'm a career girl, and as I pointed out earlier, he's a small town boy, who wants a small town girl even though he lives in New York city now.

That didn't stop him from essentially moving in to my apartment after two dates. Small town girls don't have their own place, nor do they let small town boys sleep over, either, so it didn't take much to change his mind.

Things were going swimmingly, until one fateful night when I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I asked him the question. The numbers question. How many people have you been with, all together?

He told me. It was a single digit and it was less than five. It was less than three. And then... well. Then he asked me the same question.

In this situation I only have one piece of advice for you. Lie. You'll tell yourself that this is the twenty-first century, and that it doesn't matter how many people you've slept with, in this day and age. In these modern times it's honesty that builds a good relationship, and if he really likes you, he'll appreciate that.

Wrong. Lie, lie, lie.

Poor Chad. His small town illusions were shattered. He told me he had 'thought I was moving a little fast' with him (to which I replied that he hadn't been complaining, at the time) and things were never the same, after that.

Still. I got my apartment back, and Chad... Chad made it all the way up to three. The only way to win the numbers game is to bluff your way through it; whatever he says, yours better be less. By his standards, less than half.

It won't matter if you point out his roaring hypocrisy on the subject. It won't make a difference if you mention the double standard at play.

Ladies.

Lie.

[rocky]

The D Word

'D' is for a lot of things. Dogs. I like dogs. There's something about a dog's unfailing loyalty that's comforting; he doesn't care whether or not I've shaved my legs, for a start. 'D' is also for deal, as in the multi-million dollar corporate deal that Armstrong and Copeland have just negotiated over Turner Medical. For those of you who only read Variety -- and of course, yours truly -- it's been in all the papers lately, and has, and I quote 'sealed Reed Armstrong's fate as one of New York's hottest young enterprisers'.

Congratulations, Reed. The other major Deal Reed Armstrong has been negotiating this month has been his Divorce, which was settled with an unDisclosed figure behind closed doors on Friday. I'm sure there's a tasteless joke here about lawyers and heartlessness, but for the sake of Dignity, I shall refrain.

It does beg the question, however: is a marriage like a business deal? Do you each get a number of shares in the relationships, and, more importantly, can you buy one another out?

If a business arrangement goes sour, it's usually because the profit margin is low; the economy is poor. The demand does not meet the supply (I can think of a few relationships I've had where the supply definitely couldn't meet the Demand, if you catch my Drift) but in a marriage?

If a marriage is a partnership, and the furniture, the house, the pets, and the children are all collateral, then how does one measure its success? What is the profit margin for a successful marriage?

Fidelity? Those little spoons you get, on your anniversary. There really isn't a concrete way for a marriage to prosper, in purely business terms -- perhaps instead of a partnership, it's a joint investment. Only, if one of you invests her heart, whilst the other only buys the furniture, how do you work out the comparable market value? In the Divorce proceedings, how many valuables add up to a broken heart and the ruins of a former life?

Maybe it's old fashioned, but I think marriage is until Death do you part. From a purely business standpoint, it makes sense; after all... the life insurance settlement would be larger.

Purely in terms of business, of course.