...the game...

I'd love to know what brilliant social commentator sat down to write the Rules of Relating 101.

Back in sometime-in-May, I was supposed to call Steve. Got scared and didn't end up doing so. By the time Melissa and Tara yelled at me about it, it was past the "when you can call" date, ie: about three weeks.

Asks Kristen, why the rules? Who says you can't call past that date? She's going to make up her own rules, she says.

I respect her for it - the only problem I see is that if she plays by her own rules, she'll be playing a game no one else is. Because everyone else will still be on the same page they were on before, and Kristen in her avant-gardeness will be three chapters ahead.

This time, I'm (still playing by the rules) going to call within the next week. Tara is discouraging me in her head I think, she doesn't think it's a good idea I am sure. But there's something in my gut which is telling me to do this, that he's a good guy, give it a shot I have nothing to lose. Naturally I generally tend to be wrong about these things, but I would rather take the chance than always wonder if I missed it someways back.

Of course there is always the probability I will develop phone nerves and not go through with it. So, to prevent that happening I am going to drink three out of seven days this week, in the hopes that on one of those nights I will have become sufficiently lacking of inhibition to grow a pair, and call.

I think I'm going shopping again tomorrow. I think the mood will call for vintage.