Project PANDORA: Love/Hate
Many were the occasions during days past when I was too timorous to pursue the objects of my affection. Temerity is now the order of the day, replacing timorousness, but the results have yet to be substantially different. In the case of Love/Hate I did everything correctly in the pursuit of the object of my affection except for the single most basic action: I chose poorly the object of my affection.

I flirted with Love/Hate very, very well. From the first, I made clear my interest, not repeating the past mistake of "playing it cool" for so long that I never acted. I correctly inferred her interest, not repeating the past mistake of being oblivious 'til long after her interest has passed. (She made this easy during debate practices by asking to wear my straw trilby, a fairly obvious gesture.) Yet I did not rush, I took the time to scout out that she had a boyflesh, flirting all the same & doing what little undermining I could given that the relationship was already failing. I spoke to her of the Sixty Days of Healing; when she poo-pooed the notion, saying that she'd already been going through the process of recovery even before putting the past relationship out of its misery, I took her at her word. After all, her emotional health is her responsibility, not mine. She made the decision to be free of him & finally pulled the trigger, & I waited just a little while to make sure the break-up stuck. I asked her out on an old-fashioned date because I am an old-fashioned fellow, & that's when it all started to go wrong. But not in the way you're probably thinking.

I rang up Love/Hate & asked if I could take her out on a date, dinner & an exhibit at the F.I.A. She replied that she didn't think that was a good idea. Disappointing news, but simple to understand. And that's things took a turn toward the bizarre & the inexplicable. She didn't think I should take her out on a date, but countered by suggesting that we do the exact same activity that I'd suggested, at the same time as I'd suggested, just not as a date. Wait, what? At this point, the notion flitted crossed my mind that Love/Hate might be a psychopath. You won't go out with me, which must be a blow to me since I like you enough to have asked you out, but you want to do exactly what I'd planed for us to do on our date, except that it wouldn't be a date? Definitely a psychopath. Tut tut, another faction of my mind interjected, she might not be a psychopath, she simply might be so conceited as to think that I'd consider any time spent in her presence a gift, even if it wasn't exactly as I'd hoped. That's hardly any better, the Dark Bastard opined. The "conceited" faction replied defensively that it wasn't trying to make anything better, it wasn't looking for the most accurate theory for her bizarre behavior… but before the wrangling got any more farcical the moderator stepped in & reasserted the primacy of the matter at hand. I declined her perverse counteroffer, explain to her as if she was a particularly dimwitted child that it would be too weird for me to be on our exact date without it being our date. She once again signaled her complete failure to understand human emotion by being surprised that I declined her twisted counteroffer. I went to the F.I.A. by myself during the same time I'd planned to take her, because I really wanted to see the two temporary, traveling exhibitions on glass (Wayback Machine, "Project MERCATOR"); so, I still accomplished one of my two objectives for that particular outing. All things considered, far from the worst possible result.

A week later, Love/Hate seemed to change her mind. She suggested we "hang out" after she got out of work, & when we met she was wearing a very flattering short black dress. (Love/Hate is a very jeans-and-sweater kind of girl.) We repaired to the F.I.A., because she wanted to see the exhibitions I'd intended us to see on our proposed date. We went through the museum paying far more attention to each other than to the art. My sense of things, both at the time & today, knowing all that I now know, is that she thought we were on a date. After the museum, we had a quick dinner & stopped by Ziggy's for comically large cones of ice cream; this was July, & hilarity ensued as we fought losing battles against time & our swiftly melting ice cream. We came laughing into debate practice together, & afterwards repaired to Blackstone's for drinks with the rest of the team. A short while later, Love/Hate had had too much to drink to be able drive & suggested that I leave my motorcar, Lumi, on campus & drive her back to her apartment in her motorcar; in the morning, she'd drive me back to Lumi on her way to work. The mechanics of the thing be damned, the point is that she wanted me to spend the night at her place, even knowing my stance against pre-marital sex. (Perhaps hoping to entice me into abandoning that stance?) We will never know, because—Did I say "mechanics"?—Lumi picked that moment to suffer a mechanical failure & do what the Mousemobile never did: leave me stranded on the side of the road (Wayback Machine, "Autobahn"). She & The Most Dangerous Game, who was going to ferry Love/Hate to where I parked Lumi on campus & then ferry us both to Love/Hate's automobile, stuck around waiting with me for the wrecker to fetch Lumi. By the time my turncoat motorcar was all hooked up, & I'd made it clear that I could not abandon my vehicle, Love/Hate felt sobered up enough to drive herself home (casting her story into an even more dubious light, making it seem all the more a ruse to get me back to her place & recapture the opportunity she'd let slip a week earlier).

By this point, I had no idea what to think, though going off in the back of my mind were the "bells & a siren" Jeremy told Casey would alert them to any important changes in the Continental Corp. stock price in the days before C.S.C. was put up for sale (eventually to be bought by Calvin Trager's Quo Vadimus). The day after our "date" & aborted night together, I helped Love/Hate look at new apartments closer to campus than her then-current digs. We constantly exchanged text messages & had lengthy telephone conversations, but I never again asked her out on a date. I've ignored my "gut" instinct & come to grief more times than I can to recall, & was determined not to do the same here. I'd taken my shot at Love/Hate & been unceremoniously rejected; her continued overtures tripped the "Red Signal" Dame Agatha warned must be heeded. If she thought she'd erred & wanted a second chance, it was incumbent upon her to say so explicitly. Or at least to say something, to say anything (*wink*).

With the arrival of the fall, Love/Hate brought a prospective teammate to debate practice, the Dragonslayer, & Too Sly, Sugar (formerly code named "The Regina"), & I knew it was only a matter of time before they began dating. Love/Hate hosted the whole team at her apartment (she eventually settled on a unit in the same suburban complex where she already lived) to watch episodes of the television series Ghost Adventures, which she rather disturbingly believes provides clear evidence of ghosts & spectral activity. When I left, only she & the Dragonslayer remained, & she joked that they were now going to start making out. There's no reason to think that life didn't imitate art. Whilst out in La-La-Land, Love/Hate found a moment to isolate me from the group as a lioness isolates a wildebeest & told me that she was dating the Dragonslayer (Wayback Machine, "Master Debating"). Well, duh. She said this as if it would be I wouldn't have already known, as if they hadn't already been holding hands as they left practice for at least a fortnight. I said I knew, using my most gentle tone. She shifted nervously & said that she wanted me to know, "because we (she & I) were supposed to date." "Supposed to date"?! You flatly rejected me, you lunatic! But because she's young & I was ever-more convinced that I'd dodged a bullet, I said in the gentle, reassuring tone, "I want you to be happy." Her relief was apparent & her expression betrayed considerable gratitude, for what I'm not sure. Because I hadn't erupted into a fury? Over what, someone else having her? Every time I think she couldn't be any more conceited… no, none of that, there's no profit in such speculation.

Skip ahead to early this month. After Claremont & Hart House, all-expenses-paid trips to Los Angeles, California, U.S.A. & Toronto, Ontario, the Canadas, Love/Hate had discovered she was "too busy" (& winning was too hard) to continue on the team. The Dragonslayer informed us shortly before our all-expenses-paid trip to Toronto that he was graduating in December & wouldn't be continuing after that weekend. It looked an awful lot like U. of M.-Flint had gotten played by some rather crafty students, though that devious explanation need not necessarily be true. Sugar was describing to Too Sly & your humble narrator the manner in which dating the Dragonslayer had changed Love/Hate's behavior as Sugar's friend, & not for the better. Sugar casually mentioned that over the summer Love/Hate had been interested in me, & spoken openly of wanting to date me, even before she'd ditched her then-boyflesh. I feigned surprise in a ruse to draw more out of Sugar. Too Sly added that he, too, had known Love/Hate liked me. Sugar reiterated Love/Hate's interest, but wouldn't cut to the chase; so, I had to ask, "So, why'd she turn me down when I asked her out?" Sugar hemmed & hawed about my Catholicism & Love/Hate's purportedly broadminded atheism. (Love/Hate makes loud noises denouncing "tolerance," saying it isn't enough for people to tolerate each other, they must "accept" each other.) I again had to eschew subtlety, "Because she knew I wouldn't fuck her?" (Mayhap I should have said, "Because she knew I wouldn't have sex with her?") According to Sugar, it was not my desire to be chaste specifically, but my Catholicism generally that gave Love/Hate pause. Long before I asked her out, she groused "If only he wasn't Catholic!" I've rarely faced such open discrimination against my religious beliefs. One might even say I was persecuted for my faith?

So, that's how I was attracted to & wanted to date Love/Hate, she was attracted to & wanted to date me, & we wound up not dating. She's still with the Dragonslayer & expends a good deal of energy complaining about her life. In a recent I.M. chat, I asked her how all was faring; she replied, & pardon the French, "shitty." By contrast, I'm rather pleased with how my life is faring. I've complaints, of course, but they're mere trifling inconveniences. (And I do hail from a family of dedicated & imaginative grousers; so, if I didn't have anything at all about which to complain I'd complain about that inability to complain. Wilsons, we're resourceful!) So, though of course it is in my self-interest to put the most positive spin on these events, that self-interest doesn't require any chicanery or skulduggery. There was a time when I wanted to kiss Love/Hate. That time has passed. In retrospect, she runs afoul of the Hot-Crazy Scale, being not nearly hot enough to offset her possible psychopathy.

Project PANDORA persists.

Project MERCATOR
The holiday weekend was huge for MERCATOR, with The Loose Ties, cross-references into non-Love/Hate chapters of Project PANDORA, the cinema, & a very special guest appearance by my boon companion The Guy. Watch this blog for further details!

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
The Proclaimers, "It Was Always So Easy (To Find An Unhappy Woman)" from Notes & Rhymes (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: I love sad country songs by non-country bands.

"It was always so easy to find an unhappy woman,
'Til I started looking for mine."

Consistent progress is being made toward fulfilling a now month-old "to do" list (Wayback Machine, "Coming Attractions"). Bully! Slow & steady wins the race.