Oh, I think I can add a little to those basic needs. (no--not biscuits this time)
I didn't read all that 3Way Cross--I don't like MSN for one thing, and have a slow connection today but I did look at the 1st one--#13.
January is break up month.
Obviously written by a female. From a male's perspective, that's just wrong, especially in regards to a single young man, and it's to that demographic that I attempt to type this.
January is way too late. There is (and always has been) a correct protocol to such things, a rite of passage (to acquire one's man card for one thing) so to speak. This of course doesn't apply to men who have already made that nervous walk down the church aisle to wedded bliss and matrimony--just to the young guys still out trying to find their way thru the tangled jungle of courtship and or carnal fumbling.
January is simply too late, but November is too early. Why you may ask. Mom is the answer. All mom's want their young male offspring to bring a girl home for Thanksgiving, and no young man should ever intentionally do anything to disappoint their mother. (Why are moms like this? I dunno. Maybe they see these young ladies as their way out of having to wash your dirty clothes, or having to feed ya for the next few years, or she visualizes this young lady bearing her a passel of grandchildren--or tame you down from your wild and wicked ways and occupy the church pew right beside your parents so mom can watch all her friends cast approving nods and smiles at this seemingly match made in heaven.)
Moving on now... bring the girl to Thanksgiving dinner, but observe and remember every word and motion the sweet young thing says and does--you'll need these mental notes later. Enjoy the day--it's Thanksgiving and for the most part--all is right with the world--only you know what events this day is about to trigger. It's a win-win deal--really. Mom and dad are pleased, your siblings are absolutely astounded at your unbelievable romantic success, and the girl believes she's "in like Flint". She's already weighing the carats and dreaming of The Dress. If she tries to rope you into going to HER parents house, avoid this trap like the plague. You'll be in un-friendly territory, a land wrought with boobytraps and minefields, questions from here to the equator, accusatory stares, and will be on the defensive the whole time. Tell her you'll go for Christmas instead. (works every time--girls love Christmas--for obvious reasons)
You MUST NOT break up immediately after Thanksgiving. That's just poor form, and on top of that, your mother may think it was caused by something she did, and that goes back to never disappointing mom. 7-14 days afterwards (max) is the appropriate time to make your break.
IF, you actually like this girl a lot, it'll be a little tough, but be strong--be determined and just follow these tried and proven instructions. In any event, whether she is a keeper or not, be a man (even tho you aren't yet) and do it in person. Only a cad breaks up over the phone, on facebook or thru a text message. Do NOT do it at HER house--daddy may have a shotgun or a cattle prod with your name on it. (he probably already doesn't "like this young fellow" come to do gawd knows what to his little girl when he ain't around) If you really don't like her, use the Back Button now. We will assume tho, that you actually like this girl and go from there.
How to proceed? With caution and armed with every memory of that fateful Thanksgiving afternoon. You'll need a reason or 2 of course and ones that will work. Nothing extremely trivial tho. (A bit of greenbean stuck in her teeth ain't gonna fly) Did she announce she was a vegan and only pick at the salad? Take the last piece of pecan pie? Tell your dad that his prize Brahma bull looks puny compared to her uncle's Simmental? Look around while Aunt Jane was saying the blessing--or make references to some obscure religious cult as if she has entertained thoughts that the Great Flying Spaghetti monster is the only true way? Did she sit sullenly and pout while all the rest of you enjoyed the after dinner football game, upset that you weren't insisting you all watched the 1st Christmas movie instead? Rooted loudly for the visiting team, picked out because "They have the prettiest uniforms" and took great satisfaction that your team lost? Made somewhat candid and lascivious remarks about the center's "fine butt"? (I told you to be very observant)
I should interject here, the reason for this intentional tho faux and temporary breakup. You like this pretty (and perhaps buxom) bundle of joy, but dark clouds loom on the near horizon for a young man. Christmas is coming, and this season coincides with another. Hunting season is right around the corner, but Christmas is expensive, taking lots of $$ and time. She's gonna expect--well--LOTS. She's going to want to drag to to The Mall and to horrid crowded and extremely boring places like TJ Max and The Gap, and looking at Christmas lights--when all your male friends are getting their 4 wheelers tuned up, rifles sighted in, setting up stands and feeders and planting food plots. If you live in a Northern clime, there's icefishing, skiing, and radical snowmobiling. (we don't count curling) Guy stuff-REAL stuff--IMPORTANT stuff, and it's your time honored place and responsibility as an American male to be there with them. Odds are, sweetness isn't going to like or even allow that competition for her time and your cash expenditures she undoubtedly views as her's and her's alone. Then, there's that sticky little white lie of a compromise you made regarding going to her house for Christmas. [insert 'groan' here] Gotta get out of that somehow. And of course, right after Christmas, comes New Years and all the crap it entails when you're tied to a young girl's apron strings.(she does know how to cook--doesn't she? No? Best then that she is possessed of other considerable and somewhat personal attributes to make up for her lack of culinary skills--otherwise, make this a permanent break)
So, you, out of the blue-- around Dec 7 (appropriate as it is a Date that lives in infamy) arrange to meet her on neutral and familiar ground and forcefully yet gently announce you 'need some time' to think about things, and lay down the reasons you have chosen as the cause for this sudden change of heart. BE STRONG--she's going to cry and then get mad--then cry some more. (She may even call your mom--Gawd help ya) She, if for no other reason than feminine vanity, try to cut this breakup off at it's knees and will enlist the help of HER friends in this endeavor. May even call on YOUR friends, but they are (or should be) steadfastly in your corner with a 12 pk of your favorite adult beverage or a new scope for your rifle. You will of course, have to break the news to your mom. Try to appear serious and somewhat despondent about the whole thing, dig deep to apply every sorrowful word man has used since the days of caves and hunting/gathering. (Gonna be toughh but Mom will bake a pie to help you thru the hard time) She (the rejected) will of course, undoubtedly show up on your doorstep trying to bribe you with a Christmas present and attempt to make you feel more guilty than you thought humanely possible. Accept it hesitantly, but with grace but don't open it. Back up, never taking your eyes off her and close the door securely. You must not, in this instance of possible vulnerability allow her in the house. She gets in your space, it will get ugly and you will lose. Put the gift away temporarily. Do not feel obliged to reciprocate. (you're broke up--remember?)
Deed is done!! You are now free to do as you please in a manly matter--till hunting season is over anyway.
The pitfalls:
There is only marginally manageable risk involved here, but if you were wise in choosing and presenting your reasons for the breakup, you can woo her back after the season of manliness ends (assuming you haven't done something stupid in the interim like trying to date one of her best friends)
How to get back in her good graces. Right after hunting season, when all the sausage making is done, and the tree stands stored for another year, start making noises among your mutual friends that you realize the error of your ways (women refer to this as being stupidly self centered and selfish) and you are pining away in despair and loneliness. Fortunately, God has provided us men with a thing known as a calendar. In mid February, that calendar is marked with a red square denoting a women's holiday known as St. Valentine's Day. Take advantage of this date. It will be expensive--but you can now hock your rifle at the local Pawn shop and peruse their jewlery counter or if need be, open an account at one of the high end rock shops in that most hated of all retail outlets--The Mall. You'll need to know where the good florist shop is as well--might want to hock the shotgun too.
Be prepared to grovel before her like a broken shell of a man, perhaps shed a crocodile tear or two and beg on bended knee with the most devout apology in the history of mankind, but you may as well develop this trait as you will need it your entire married life---unless you are a clone of Bez, and keep her tied to the oven and release her only long enough to venture forth thru the snowdrifts and howling wind to bring in more wood for the wood heater. If you have done all things according to Hoyle, brought her the rarest of day lilies from the most remote New Guinea rainforest and a glittering one-of-a-kind in the world gift rivaling the crown jewels of the Queen Mother, you will again be rewarded with the sweet perfume of feminine to male attraction--only somewhat seasoned with a bit of lifelong mistrust on her part. [shrug--remember the buck you got opening day]
Or not.
The always possible risk is that she culled you forever while you were shivering on that deerstand, but worry not. You'll get over her, and there's Suzy down the road, whose father owns a feed store, and Gloria across town who's family owns a gun shop, and that cute Ginger out on the highway who's family with no male heir has that fine string of cutting horses and a growing heard of registered Angus (and she does her shopping at places like Tractor Supply, Cavenders and Atwoods too) Collateral damage isn't always such a bad thing.
(there is also a different school of thought, that the breakup should be extended thru spring to allow for flyfishing season, crappie runs, and other such aquatic harvests, but that's for another time as it takes a lot more planning and a much stouter heart that most have.)
You're welcome.
(if you need contact for a good florist, I know every one of them from the Red to the Rio, from El Paso to the Sabine and then some)
(Now--where's that "hiding under the chair smilie"?
