“Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Pancakes.”

I return for a couple of posts to my awkward, chubby, pre-mission days.

Whenever I come across the word ‘whimsical’ in conversation, my friend Jamie immediately comes to mind. She might not have been the type to go on adventures or make totally random observations; her ‘whimsy’ was more intellectual. In every sense of the word, she is an artist and a thinker. Often, she would share with us her observations on life, the universe, and everything.

Recently, I’ve decided that the reason our friendship and that of a few other girls has had such an impact on me is that she was in a way the sister I never had. To a harmless extent, I envied the relationship she had with her own sister, Jeannie. Close in age (unlike me and my brothers) they have amazing ties to one another’s lives wherever they are in the world.

Jamie offered the guidance, cheer, experience, and concern for all of her close friends. This even continued to be the case after she found the man of her dreams and did not disappear into the ‘Married Twilight Zone.’

Before all of that, though, she had her dating adventures like the rest of us and being two years the senior to me, Cole, and Bronson, she’d often share her pearls of wisdom.

The four of us were chatting on our way to the parking lot. It was a school night and our beds and homework demanded a return at a reasonable hour.

Following Cole’s understated shouts of “That was amazing!” and Bronson’s gasps of “Oh my gosh!,” we sat down for a bit as we moved on to other topics.

College had drawn us apart slightly as far as time commitments; however, we were as close as ever in that time suddenly mattered more in the economy of our lives. Whenever, we found ourselves together, we found ourselves procrastinating and finding excuses to enjoy one another’s company as we caught up on each others lives or share our recent observations.

The most memorable discussion of the night follows:

“You know, I’ve discovered something recently. Men are like waffles and women are like pancakes.”

We all went silent for a moment as she allowed us to stretch our abstract thought muscles and make the connection ourselves.

“Here’s the thing. Men compartmentalize. You tend to think about one thing at a time. A then B then C and so on. Things get done.”

The silence continued as the observation seemed more bizarre than profound at that point.

“When you pour syrup on waffles, squares fill up one at a time.”

“Ahhh…,” I and Cole sighed in understanding.

“And Women,” he continued hesitantly. “Women are like pancakes because...?”

“…because when you pour syrup on them, it goes WHOOSH!—everywhere. It’s one big, beautiful, delicious mess. Everything is connected and everyone affected.”

It was practical advice for understanding people, and has helped me understand that people work within this spectrum (though not through these gender-bound generalizations). As I gained my footing in Gay World, I realized that a healthy balance of the two was necessary to remain sane. I couldn’t be a slave to my emotions nor to my drive or ambitions and it became necessary to recognize that certain guys—about to enter my life—would fall on either end of this spectrum.