Body Language...

I've had body language stuck in my head for a week, and it unfortunately isn't Queen's version. That's right... Jesse McCartney has been singing this in my head all morning and night:

Parlez vous francais? 

Konichiwa 

Come and move in my way 

Hey, little chica from Guadalupe 

That thing you got behind you is amazing 

Now, I don't speak Spanish, Japanese or French 

But the way that body's talkin' definitely makes sense 

It's her, her body, her body, her body language 

It's her, her body, her body, her body language 

The way she moves around 

When she grinds to the beat 

Breaking it down articulately 

It's her, her body, her body, her body language 

It's her, her body, her body

I once had a guy I was interested in tell me that my body language completely gave me away. Apparently I touched may hair more when I was talking with him than with other guys, I crossed my legs towards him, looked him straight in the eye, sat within the personal bubble, uncrossed my arms whenever he approached, oh... and I made out with him. (That last part was the kicker!) Although he was intending to just bring about some playful banter, it kinda freaked me out. Everyone knows from experience what some physical cues mean, but this guy had actually read a book on the subtleties of body language, and it made me realize something - knowing more than your average Joe about body language can be a dangerous thing. 

I mean, think about it. What about if I had hard core hairsprayed my hair, and couldn't run my fingers through it? Would he decide I wasn't interested? I actually find crossing my right leg over my left more comfortable than it's opposite, so what would have happened if he had been sitting on my right instead of my left? What about if my boobs hurt, and I was crossing my arms underneath them to try and relieve the stress of my body holding them up on its own? The room for misinterpretation is vast!

It can also be contradictory. The other night I went on a date with a guy who spent half of the time looking everywhere else in the bar besides my face, and the other half staring at my boobs. If I had actually been interested, I'd be all kinds of confused right now as to how to interpret his lack of eye contact. Luckily, his horrifically upright posture during our hug goodbye made it quite clear he, like me, was not looking to take things further. (I let him know the next day that I didn't think we were much by way of sparks, butterflies, rainbows, and puppies... verbatim.)

Recently, however, my real problem with too much knowledge of body language (or not enough... that could be another argument) is the fact that I know what messages I'm sending. I was seeing someone that I should have been crazy about. He's smart, handsome, sweet, driven, and apparently a fan of my antics... but it just wasn't there. As soon as I realized that I wasn't feeling it, I started noticing how I was sitting with him, where my arms were being held, and if I was touching my hair enough. I found myself trying to keep sending the message that I was interested, even though I wasn't. Thoughts like, "Ah! Katie... lean your torso towards him! You're totally being stand-offish," ran through my head. Who the heck thinks about their torso?!

And I guess my hesitation came out in the end... probably due to the fact that I honestly forgot to get in touch with him until the day after he had invited me to see a movie. (YIKES!!!) It would appear that no amount of torso/leg positioning or hair-play can cover that sign up. 

Yet another date, I reassuringly put my hand on the small of a guy's back to try to help him realize that I really didn't mind that we were wandering the streets, in search of a restaurant that managed to keep eluding us. All the sudden, what do I think? "Ah! Katie! You just gave him the 'I'm into you,' but from a totally male standpoint! You just MADE him the WOMAN!" I literally shook my head to get the thought out, (he was searching for street names and didn't notice) but the next time he apologized for the delay in eating, all I could do was gently pat him on the shoulder. That... my friends... is also not exactly a male ego-booster. My internal monologue was going, "MAY DAY!!! MAY F*ING DAY, KATIE!!!" I mean, how in the world am I supposed to expect a guy to enjoy my company when I keep physically interacting with him as if he were a weak woman? Luckily, I spent the rest of the night having a fun time coming up with things he's good at... which became a pretty sizable and funny list. 

However, the issue still remains that I have learned the subtleties of body language, and I can't possibly unlearn them. The next time my hair is flat, and I constantly touch it so that it's always doing something more interesting than lying limp and lifeless, I will inevitably be convinced that every man in the room is thinking I'm totally into them. Sit too close to a dude on the packed T?? Oh no no! Rein them in, Lassie! That's way too forward! I've already caught myself trying to learn how to be an ambi-leg crosser. My neuroses have already scheduled a mixer to welcome-in the newest addition to the list of full tenure members. It's supposed to be a RAGER!!!

Love,

Katie