California here we come / Right back where we started from

Could somebody please please enlighten me. I know that my calls for help are usually whiney and don't justify a response, but I've questions, and I need answers. About... well, about one man in particular, who I actually (I really shouldn't admit this) enjoy not being able to figure out ... but men in general. Why are they so manly? Why do they always have to be right? Why do their feet smell? Why are they better drivers? Well, the sole exception to that being my brother, who I had to beg to stop weaving in and out of rush-hour traffic on 12th ave today.

What defines a normal relationship? I know that I'm asking a lot of questions, but bear with me - I've got direction on this one. See if you can follow me, 'cause this is my train of thought on the relationship game: boy meets girl, boy asks girl out on date, boy and girl hold hands, boy and girl kiss goodnight, some sort of intelligible relationship follows. You see the odd variation on the theme, kind of like "Sleepless in Seattle" versus "You've Got Mail", but the formula is still the same. You know why? Because it works. Because courtship behaviour is so established in the human genome that even the San Francisco 49ers couldn't mess it up. Why, and HOW, therefore, did I get into this delicious situation that I find myself in?

Boy meets girl, girl can't decide of she loves or hates boy. Boy and girl trade thoughts on music. Boy ignores girl. Girl ignores boy. Both boy and girl ignore feelings. Third party brings reluctant boy and girl to admit that they *might* be falling insane for eachother. Boy and girl trade punches, but would rather be swapping spit. Boy surprises girl by being the most tender and compassionate human being she's ever met. Girl continues to fight. Boy continues to fight, and we find ourselves in the present tense.

I don't really have anything to say about all of this - just my observations, which I have yet to collect or make any sense of. Just like boys in general, I guess. Maybe something this real was meant to remain a mystery?

I watched Raising Helen tonight with my sisters, and then set Hann up with an msn account, which was on ALL accounts, not the brightest idea. Her favorite thing to do is to send me all of the emoticons at once; I end up receiving a very jumbled grounp of emotions, which she follows with a hearty msn belly-laugh: "HAHAHAHA". Of course, the entire emoticon/hyterical laughter cycle takes 15 minutes, while I wait patiently as "Hannah is typing a message".
Maybe I should have waited until she was 9?

I'm going to bed. San Francisco tomorrow, with a touchdown just in time to plant myself at the airport bar and watch the game.