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A List of Demands

February 15, 2006 by in category Blogs tagged as with 6 and 0
Home > Writing > Blogs > A List of Demands

By Sara Black

Whenever I see Pride and Prejudice I find myself sighing in my seat and thinking how I wish life were more like the movies. While watching the latest adaptation, for the second time, the perverse realization of what that would actually entail came over me.

So, in the interest of assisting Tech Support towards being the most romantic boyfriend he can, I am creating a useful list for him.

Don’t tell me you love me.

Of course you’ve already told me you love me and that spoils it a bit, but we’re just going to have to backtrack a bit. Please stop telling me you love me this instant.

Instead I would prefer that you direct very intense stares at my neck at every possible moment. Extra points if I am doing something graceful or requiring particular skill and you stand behind me with admiration warming your cool eyes. Of course I must be unaware of these stares, except for a few moments where our eyes meet and then quickly part again. Should I catch you at it too often however, the illusion will be ruined. Above all, I must not actually know you desire me.

Don’t be too obvious in your affection. This of course goes with the above. You should not pay too much obvious attention to me. Furthermore, when you do pay attention be sure to be as confusing as possible. Engage me in excellent conversation, make me laugh, and then the next time we meet be as cold and reserved as possible. Do not encourage me at all towards a romantic attachment. If anything, deter me from one with veiled hints, or even send some friends to crush my spirits. Bonus points if I end up sobbing in confusion.

Make things as difficult as possible. If men just declared their love the instant they felt it and offered to marry the object of their admirations the world would be a far poorer place. Leave the city I am in for a fabulous weekend in Italy or just move away entirely. Declare you love me in such terms that I feel it is an insult; try to denigrate my mother while you are at it.

Have several others vying for your affection. How romantic is it if I should win your heart when there is no other competition? Make sure the other party is nasty and underhanded. And also rich.

If possible, orchestrate some sort of terrible family tragedy that threatens to destroy all my happiness. Only when I have sunk to the deepest despair can I truly realize how much I love you. Of course, the fact that you may not love me will only deepen my suffering.

And if you successfully achieve all that, I might finally consider you the romantic boyfriend worthy of all my love and affections.

by Sara Black
http://scratchingposts.blogspot.com
(Sara is Gina Black’s daughter)

6 Comments

  • Anonymous
    on February 23, 2006

    Dear Sara,

    Wow! Spoken by a true Jane Austen-o-phile, your blog rocks!!!!

    -Geralyn

  • Anonymous
    on February 17, 2006

    Sara,
    You are just too cute. This was a great story and one every young girl should think about. What we think we want and how maybe it would drive us CRAZY in real life. It was good to meet you at the meeting but I really thought you about 16 years old until I heard you speak at Sue’s. You have a very original thought process and it shows in this blog.
    I can see a very funny book coming from you.
    MichelleT

  • Anonymous
    on February 16, 2006

    Thank you so much!

    It’s fun to have someone besides my mother and boyfriend read my stuff sometimes. 😉

  • Anonymous
    on February 15, 2006

    Sara,

    Very clever blog! You’re a great writer! I enjoyed meeting you at OCC on Saturday.

    Charlene Sands

  • Anonymous
    on February 15, 2006

    I love it…so true! I was LOL at the whole thing. Thanks! 🙂

    I loved your blog too.

    And…um…I could’ve told you there are women clumsy enough in this world to burn a toaster up. 😉

  • Anonymous
    on February 15, 2006

    Sara,
    I LOVE this! I cracked up the entire time I was reading it. Nicely done.

    Michele

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