I was going through some of Uncle Bob's old entries the other day. I was scanning a few entries from before Andrew was born.

Throughout Susie's pregnancy, there was such an outpouring of support from the diaryland community. I know that many, many people sent gifts and such. I, too, was among them. I think it was such a wonderful, loving show of support. And what's interesting to me is that Susie doesn't know any of us. Andrew doesn't know any of us.

In a few years, when Andrew is asking about his name, I wonder if he'll be amused, embarrassed or confused by being told that he was named after the founder of Diaryland.

Heh. Andy-dot-com.

Yes, I think about things like that often. I suspect that there was someone else Uncle Bob admires by the name of Andrew, but still... To be named after someone from the internet world... That's going to be an interesting conversation piece, I think.

Anyway, I was thinking about the changes in Uncle Bob. You know, those little things which are different after parenthood. There will be many more differences as time goes on, of that I'm more than sure.

During the little more than two years since I first started keeping a diary here, many things have changed about myself: and there hasn't been any great life-altering experience. (Childbirth has to be one of the most dramatic life-altering experiences in the world.)

I have learned so much about myself, my hopes, my dreams and my abilities. I have recognized some weaknesses which have been plaguing me and I've come to some interesting conclusions about who and what I am.

I suppose the most important thing I've learned, however, is to laugh at life. I've always been such a serious person. From the time of infancy, I was serious. I just don't have the time to be so serious anymore.

It feels a little like having given my worry ability to those who can actually make some use out of it.

Perhaps that's what failed relationships are all about. You're in a relationship and you take on many of the characteristics of the person you're involved with. When that relationship dies, there's a new you which needs to be explored.

I think anyone who has read me for a while knows that I've been doing a whole lot of exploring lately. I've thought about so many different aspects of my life and personality that I've come to see myself in a different light.

For quite a while, I was willing to ignore the words of those who gave advice in my past. I then would go through phases where those little tidbits of information became foundation stones in the new construct of me.

Or rather, not really a construct of me, but the construct of an idea of me. Does that make sense? Probably not to you, but it makes sense to me. So there. *chuckles*

I remember that when DS told me "I'm not afraid of what you are." I thought that was just a nice, comforting thing to say. I didn't really remember it. Then, during the past few months, I've been thinking about that little line a lot.

I have placed more meaning into it than there really was. 12 years after DS told me that, I interpreted it to mean that he wanted me to know he was interested in me; for "the future".

But today? Today, I think that when DS said those words, what he meant was that he wasn't afraid of me. That he wasn't afraid of what I was.

See... Logically I know that in the large majority of cases, if a man says something, he means exactly what the words say. Male/female communication falls into problem territory when the woman begins to interpret what the man says.

Male says: That's a nice dress you're wearing.

Female interprets: That's much better than the dress you wore last week.
Or: That dress makes your butt look smaller than usual

Something like that.

What the man meant to say, and to convey to the woman was that the dress she was wearing was nice. That's it. No hidden meanings, no hidden impressions.

Females, far too often, place their own value judgements upon what everyone else says. Me too.

Just because I have long held to the concept of males' words meaning exactly what the words say, that doesn't mean that I've lived by such concept. I want to change that now. I want to hear what the male says and not place MY insecurities or questions upon their words.

Thus, when DS told me that he wasn't afraid of what I was, he meant that he wasn't afraid of what I was. He was not trying to speak to me in some strange code. He wasn't trying to hint that he was interested in me. He wasn't trying to divulge some deep, dark secret. He was simply telling me that he wasn't afraid of what I was.

Males rarely speak in code. Women almost always speak in code. The problem is, Males don't hear in code and women do. (Generally speaking)

So, if you're having a conversation with someone of the opposite sex... women, please, try to cut down your code-speak. If you like the tie your guy is wearing, instead of saying "That tie is much better than the one from last week." Say, "I like the tie you're wearing."

Men, there isn't really any way I can help you here. There is no key to code-speak and every woman seems to have her very own dialect. But, keep trying. We women are extremely confusing and very difficult to deal with. I know, I am a woman and I find other women to be extremely confusing and difficult to deal with. Heh.

There is little as confusing as realizing that I myself use code-speak. When I was hanging out with men all the time (throughout my early 20's) I was very plain and straight forward. Now that I've had my mother and boss as my social group, for the past nearly 8 years, I have begun speaking more in code.

What's worse, I've been interpreting in code. It's really irritating when I hear "Oh, you're here again, I didn't see you." and interpret that to mean that someone is dissappointed in my presense and I should leave. Heh.

What that line means is, the individual didn't realize I was there and now they see me again. Amazing how that interpretation is almost word for word, huh?

*chuckles*

Eventually I'll figure out enough of this life stuff to carry on a real and open conversation with someone other than my keyboard. Heh.