First, no, I haven’t joined or started a group called Foggy Females. Those two words should be the subject and only subject of this post. However, a friendly reader recently let me know that a Google search doesn’t turn up this blog, and after reading more mumbo jumbo on the WordPress site than I wanted to about how to fix that, I gave up, did a search on “Romantic Guppies,” and that post came up high on the first page of results about small fish. So I’m going to try sticking my name in the subject line of a post or two and see if it fixes the problem. If it does, I’ll then try a less obnoxiously large byline in the text and see what happens.
So, as to Foggy Females. I thought after snarking at romance heroes in the last post, I should give the ladies equal time. IMO it’s a target-rich environment, but the thing I settled on is one I don’t feel absolute confidence about. There is some part of me that wonders if my own hormones, emotions, etc., just aren’t up to snuff. Another part thinks that maybe even though I believe I’ve known some wonderful guys, maybe if I’d just been kissed by a romance hero type….
What I notice, and what annoys and makes me wonder is the fact our heroines get so lost in our heroes’ kisses the ladies no longer can think and in fact are no longer aware of anything going on around them. A whole crowd can enter the room and witness the heroine’s ruin, but she never notices them until the hero lets up and she looks around (without the crowd, her lips that look bee stung because of his kisses give her away — a phenomenon that has also missed me). She is oblivious to anything and everything, which is how he gets her clothes off without her noticing and inserts fingers and tongue in places she never equates with a rapidly approaching irreversible event. In fact it’s how she loses her virginity (orgasmically) without realizing it until, whoops, there’s a “pinch.”
Admittedly I’ve never discussed this in great detail with female friends, and the ones who’ve mentioned it seem as deficient as I am. A little further along in the process, I can see how passion might fog things, but even then, the one time I walked in my parents’ bedroom without knocking when I should have — well, no one seemed too passion fogged to react strongly and immediately. Then again, maybe that means my deficiency is inherited? (And in case anyone who reads this is thinking how awful I am to be embarrassing my parents in public here — they’ve both been gone and quite past embarrassment for some time now. My father would be p.o.’d, but my mother would just shake her head and quote something pithy, probably to do with a serpent’s tooth.)
Interestingly, about the time all these thoughts were bumping around in my mind, one of the library ebooks I downloaded was Mary Balogh’s A Summer to Remember, which proved convincingly that while one can make generalizations about guppies and foggy females in romances, there are always great exceptions. The heroine is so unfoggy that when he tries to devastate her with a kiss, she asks something like, “What are you up to?” as soon as his lips unlock with hers. And of course he is up to something. The hero is not a guppy. The ending does involve the shopworn bit where she says no to a marriage proposal because he has never said he looves her, but that’s a minor quibble over a book with appealing and rather different characters.
Dog News: Victor’s blood test earlier this month showed no microfilaria, which means his heartworm treatment has been a success. He has to have another blood test in April before being pronounced good to go, but I think that’s a checking it twice to be safe and sure type thing. Unfortunately in all this time there’s only been one adoption application for him, and it wasn’t suitable. Adoptions have been slow generally, another casualty of the economy. So we’re going to take some new pictures of Victor now that he’s up to proper weight and his coat is nicer and keep trying at least until after the April test. If nothing shows up by then, he’ll probably stay with me. My other male doesn’t like him a lot, but other than the time they knocked me down and were fighting on top of me…. Ah, that’s another
tail tale, and it’s not usually too hard to work around their antipathy.