When friends ask how my love life is, I answer with, “I am having sex with Freddy.”
Freddy is ten years my junior, which is great for my ego; he's handsome and confident, which is great for my libido; and he's funny, which makes him likable. Nevertheless, our age difference makes a relationship highly improbable: he doesn't want one with anyone, and I don't want one with a twenty-eight year-old.
I am always conscious of the words I use because I want to be both semantically accurate and connotatively sound. Being an English teacher and a writer makes me very particular about language. That is why I am careful to say “having sex” instead of “fucking” because the latter hints at anger and domination. And I am not angry about it whatsoever.
One afternoon, as Freddy was putting on his shoes to leave and we were chatting he said, "I was telling my buddy about this Cougar I'm talking to . . ."
I was curled up in the corner of my couch on the other side of the room, wallowing in post-coital dreaminess. Blinking, I sat up and said, "I am 'the Cougar,' correct?"
"Ya," he said with a laugh. He continued his story, but all I heard "yadda, yadda, yadda" because my brain was stuck on two things: "Cougar" and "talking to."
I don't mind the term "Cougar" so much; it is gaining respectability. Older women are becoming the cool thing to do. I can live with that. As a couple of my younger male co-workers explained when they agreed that I was indeed a Cougar: "It means you have your shit together. And that you’re attractive." What gave me pause was that Freddy referred to me in third person even though I was sitting not ten feet from him. If one is addressed in the third person during conversation, doesn't that mean one is rich and famous? Or a star athlete? I am neither. Infamous--sure. Rich -- no. Athletic --- if drinking wine is a sport, then yes.
I understand the necessity of condensing the details of a relationship into one word. It would be irksome to say, "I am texting, talking on the phone with, taking to dinner and a movie, as well as making out (or having sex) with this chick . . .”. You get the picture. In the case of Freddy and me, a simple phrase could sum up the dynamic of our relationship--and "talking" isn’t the right one. And now that I am the direct object of talking to makes me really want to know the intricacies of that definition. What if talking to involves rubbing jam all over each other’s bodies at every full moon? I would need to know that so I have the strawberry preserves on hand. What if it means he is the only one allowed to talk? The preposition “to” is not reciprocal. And if I am the direct object, it implies submission.
Oh hells no.
I had heard my students say "I'm talking to this guy" before, but I didn't inquire because I figured it would never be relevant in my life. Now that it is, I decided to spend the following day asking each of my four senior classes to define the term.
Teaching them how to diagram a sentence would have been easier.
I asked the class, "When you say that you are 'talking to' someone, what does that mean exactly?"
All I got were eyes shifting away from me, throats clearing, and nervous giggling.
Finally, a precocious honors-dropout raised her hand and told me that "If you are 'talking to' someone it means you text, hang out, and do boyfriend/girlfriend stuff."
Text, check. Hang out? I understand the need for ambiguity on that count because we all “hang out” differently. My “hanging out” includes wine. Someone else’s might include video games or baking. For Freddy and me, “hanging out” includes breath mints and condoms. Boyfriend/girlfriend stuff? That is unnecessarily ambiguous. There are a wealth of things that can be classified under such a term, but it’s more a matter of selection rather than definition. When Miss Precocious means “boyfriend/girlfriend” stuff does she mean arguing over which movie to see or where to go to dinner on Friday night? Does she mean running errands together? Does she mean physical intimacy only? All the above?
A little more questioning and a lot more shifting eyes, clearing throats, and nervous giggles verified that “boyfriend/girlfriend stuff” referred to physical intimacy. Trust me, I did not push for details on how they defined that. As much as I dislike non-specifics, I’d rather risk being unaware of current sexual practices amongst the youth than having the image of my students engaging in anything other than holding hands haunt me forever.
But, aside from the “boyfriend/girlfriend” stuff, I wanted to be thorough, so I bounced the definition back to her, “If you are ‘talking to’ someone, it’s basically the same as being boyfriend/girlfriend but you aren’t exclusive.”
I think I lost most of the class with “exclusive” so Miss Precocious threw me a bone by dumbing it down for them: “Right. You aren’t Facebook official.”
Facebook official? OMG.
“So, in theory, if you are ‘talking to’ one guy you can ‘talk to’ another guy without breaking any commitments or promises to either one? You technically aren’t cheating?” I said.
For a moment, I had forgotten about the precarious temperament of my control group. The chaos of language that erupted as the answer to my question shifted the mood in the room from uncomfortable to nuclear. Once it died down, and because I never learn, I added, “So basically ‘talking to’ and ‘Facebook Official’ are different in theory, but not in practice. Normally, no one ‘talks to’ more than one person at a time?”
The girls nodded, but the boys shook their heads.
I saw the wave of realization and then anger ripple across the girls’ faces. The boys began to panic. Suddenly, one young gentleman piped up as the spokesperson: “When you are ‘talking to’ someone, it means you are considering becoming ‘Facebook Official’. You are just trying things out.”
“So, you are saying that you don’t ‘talk to’ girls with whom you would never intend on committing to? Your intention is to be ‘Facebook Official’ but you just want to make sure she’s the right girl for you?”
“Right,” he said.
The girls’ snarls softened and I commended myself on saving few adolescent cojones with my more amiable clarification. That is until the boys’ spokesperson decided he wanted to show off by throwing in an analogy: “It’s like test driving a car before you buy it. Most people don’t test drive a car they have no intention of buying, correct?”
Cojones back in the crosshairs.
By lunchtime, I had had this same conversation with three different classes and I felt confident that I understand the meaning of the word:
talking to (v)—to communicate regularly, spend free time with, and engage in physical intimacy with someone whom one considers committing to exclusively.
My generation used the metonymy “seeing” instead of “talking to” as our easy-exit-from-relationship label (or for those optimists, the embarking on-a-journey-to-a-relationship label). Instead of the visual emphasis, it has shifted to a verbal emphasis. Ironic. Teens don’t talk to one another as much as my generation did. They text, IM, Facebook, and have face to face contact; therefore, teens technically “read” one another.
This got me thinking: where did the term “dating” come from? After much googling, I learned that it made its appearance in the 1920s, as a specifically American term to mean setting aside a particular time to “engage” with the opposite sex. As far as the particulars of “engage” it is as vague as “getting together with” was for my generation and “hooking up with” is for the current adolescent population: it could mean anything from holding hands to trying out all the positions outlined in the Kama Sutra—with strawberry preserves.
I also noticed that prepositions have become a critical part of the language of love. I think it’s a result of the feminist movement. If a man is dating a woman—it seems more dominant than “getting together with” a woman. The “with” implies more of a partnership versus the woman just being the direct object of “dating.” But this newer generation, with its “talking to” instead of “talking with” is reviving the hierarchy of amour: therefore, whoever is applying the label is dominant. Applying this analysis to how Freddy referred to our relationship, would result in a response something like, “Talking TO me? What am I, a child? Does you think you’re superior? Why not just say ‘The Cougar you are talking DOWN to?’ ”
To waylay such a miscommunication, I did ask Miss Precocious, “How important is the ‘to’? Can I say, ‘I’m talking with’ some guy and it means the same thing?”
She shakes her head, “No. You gotta say ‘talking to’.”
As leery as I am about the choice of preposition, I’m glad I got clarification. What if a student needs to speak with me at lunch and catches me while I’m on the phone with my colleague? I’d naturally say, “Hold on, I’m talking to Mr. Summers.” It’s not a problem because he or she sees me on the phone and the context provides clarity. But, what if my student brought a friend with him or her and that friend waited outside and only heard “I’m talking to Mr. Summers”? Boom, by 6th period Ms. Vance and Mr. Summers are communicating regularly, spending free time together, engaging in physical intimacy and are considering committing to one another exclusively.
Therefore, I will make sure that I say, “Hold on, I’m talking to Mr. Summers about the football pool.” That way by 6th period the rumor will be that I am addicted to gambling, not screwing the history teacher.
Freddy is ten years my junior, which is great for my ego; he's handsome and confident, which is great for my libido; and he's funny, which makes him likable. Nevertheless, our age difference makes a relationship highly improbable: he doesn't want one with anyone, and I don't want one with a twenty-eight year-old.
I am always conscious of the words I use because I want to be both semantically accurate and connotatively sound. Being an English teacher and a writer makes me very particular about language. That is why I am careful to say “having sex” instead of “fucking” because the latter hints at anger and domination. And I am not angry about it whatsoever.
One afternoon, as Freddy was putting on his shoes to leave and we were chatting he said, "I was telling my buddy about this Cougar I'm talking to . . ."
I was curled up in the corner of my couch on the other side of the room, wallowing in post-coital dreaminess. Blinking, I sat up and said, "I am 'the Cougar,' correct?"
"Ya," he said with a laugh. He continued his story, but all I heard "yadda, yadda, yadda" because my brain was stuck on two things: "Cougar" and "talking to."
I don't mind the term "Cougar" so much; it is gaining respectability. Older women are becoming the cool thing to do. I can live with that. As a couple of my younger male co-workers explained when they agreed that I was indeed a Cougar: "It means you have your shit together. And that you’re attractive." What gave me pause was that Freddy referred to me in third person even though I was sitting not ten feet from him. If one is addressed in the third person during conversation, doesn't that mean one is rich and famous? Or a star athlete? I am neither. Infamous--sure. Rich -- no. Athletic --- if drinking wine is a sport, then yes.
I understand the necessity of condensing the details of a relationship into one word. It would be irksome to say, "I am texting, talking on the phone with, taking to dinner and a movie, as well as making out (or having sex) with this chick . . .”. You get the picture. In the case of Freddy and me, a simple phrase could sum up the dynamic of our relationship--and "talking" isn’t the right one. And now that I am the direct object of talking to makes me really want to know the intricacies of that definition. What if talking to involves rubbing jam all over each other’s bodies at every full moon? I would need to know that so I have the strawberry preserves on hand. What if it means he is the only one allowed to talk? The preposition “to” is not reciprocal. And if I am the direct object, it implies submission.
Oh hells no.
I had heard my students say "I'm talking to this guy" before, but I didn't inquire because I figured it would never be relevant in my life. Now that it is, I decided to spend the following day asking each of my four senior classes to define the term.
Teaching them how to diagram a sentence would have been easier.
I asked the class, "When you say that you are 'talking to' someone, what does that mean exactly?"
All I got were eyes shifting away from me, throats clearing, and nervous giggling.
Finally, a precocious honors-dropout raised her hand and told me that "If you are 'talking to' someone it means you text, hang out, and do boyfriend/girlfriend stuff."
Text, check. Hang out? I understand the need for ambiguity on that count because we all “hang out” differently. My “hanging out” includes wine. Someone else’s might include video games or baking. For Freddy and me, “hanging out” includes breath mints and condoms. Boyfriend/girlfriend stuff? That is unnecessarily ambiguous. There are a wealth of things that can be classified under such a term, but it’s more a matter of selection rather than definition. When Miss Precocious means “boyfriend/girlfriend” stuff does she mean arguing over which movie to see or where to go to dinner on Friday night? Does she mean running errands together? Does she mean physical intimacy only? All the above?
A little more questioning and a lot more shifting eyes, clearing throats, and nervous giggles verified that “boyfriend/girlfriend stuff” referred to physical intimacy. Trust me, I did not push for details on how they defined that. As much as I dislike non-specifics, I’d rather risk being unaware of current sexual practices amongst the youth than having the image of my students engaging in anything other than holding hands haunt me forever.
But, aside from the “boyfriend/girlfriend” stuff, I wanted to be thorough, so I bounced the definition back to her, “If you are ‘talking to’ someone, it’s basically the same as being boyfriend/girlfriend but you aren’t exclusive.”
I think I lost most of the class with “exclusive” so Miss Precocious threw me a bone by dumbing it down for them: “Right. You aren’t Facebook official.”
Facebook official? OMG.
“So, in theory, if you are ‘talking to’ one guy you can ‘talk to’ another guy without breaking any commitments or promises to either one? You technically aren’t cheating?” I said.
For a moment, I had forgotten about the precarious temperament of my control group. The chaos of language that erupted as the answer to my question shifted the mood in the room from uncomfortable to nuclear. Once it died down, and because I never learn, I added, “So basically ‘talking to’ and ‘Facebook Official’ are different in theory, but not in practice. Normally, no one ‘talks to’ more than one person at a time?”
The girls nodded, but the boys shook their heads.
I saw the wave of realization and then anger ripple across the girls’ faces. The boys began to panic. Suddenly, one young gentleman piped up as the spokesperson: “When you are ‘talking to’ someone, it means you are considering becoming ‘Facebook Official’. You are just trying things out.”
“So, you are saying that you don’t ‘talk to’ girls with whom you would never intend on committing to? Your intention is to be ‘Facebook Official’ but you just want to make sure she’s the right girl for you?”
“Right,” he said.
The girls’ snarls softened and I commended myself on saving few adolescent cojones with my more amiable clarification. That is until the boys’ spokesperson decided he wanted to show off by throwing in an analogy: “It’s like test driving a car before you buy it. Most people don’t test drive a car they have no intention of buying, correct?”
Cojones back in the crosshairs.
By lunchtime, I had had this same conversation with three different classes and I felt confident that I understand the meaning of the word:
talking to (v)—to communicate regularly, spend free time with, and engage in physical intimacy with someone whom one considers committing to exclusively.
My generation used the metonymy “seeing” instead of “talking to” as our easy-exit-from-relationship label (or for those optimists, the embarking on-a-journey-to-a-relationship label). Instead of the visual emphasis, it has shifted to a verbal emphasis. Ironic. Teens don’t talk to one another as much as my generation did. They text, IM, Facebook, and have face to face contact; therefore, teens technically “read” one another.
This got me thinking: where did the term “dating” come from? After much googling, I learned that it made its appearance in the 1920s, as a specifically American term to mean setting aside a particular time to “engage” with the opposite sex. As far as the particulars of “engage” it is as vague as “getting together with” was for my generation and “hooking up with” is for the current adolescent population: it could mean anything from holding hands to trying out all the positions outlined in the Kama Sutra—with strawberry preserves.
I also noticed that prepositions have become a critical part of the language of love. I think it’s a result of the feminist movement. If a man is dating a woman—it seems more dominant than “getting together with” a woman. The “with” implies more of a partnership versus the woman just being the direct object of “dating.” But this newer generation, with its “talking to” instead of “talking with” is reviving the hierarchy of amour: therefore, whoever is applying the label is dominant. Applying this analysis to how Freddy referred to our relationship, would result in a response something like, “Talking TO me? What am I, a child? Does you think you’re superior? Why not just say ‘The Cougar you are talking DOWN to?’ ”
To waylay such a miscommunication, I did ask Miss Precocious, “How important is the ‘to’? Can I say, ‘I’m talking with’ some guy and it means the same thing?”
She shakes her head, “No. You gotta say ‘talking to’.”
As leery as I am about the choice of preposition, I’m glad I got clarification. What if a student needs to speak with me at lunch and catches me while I’m on the phone with my colleague? I’d naturally say, “Hold on, I’m talking to Mr. Summers.” It’s not a problem because he or she sees me on the phone and the context provides clarity. But, what if my student brought a friend with him or her and that friend waited outside and only heard “I’m talking to Mr. Summers”? Boom, by 6th period Ms. Vance and Mr. Summers are communicating regularly, spending free time together, engaging in physical intimacy and are considering committing to one another exclusively.
Therefore, I will make sure that I say, “Hold on, I’m talking to Mr. Summers about the football pool.” That way by 6th period the rumor will be that I am addicted to gambling, not screwing the history teacher.
