Let Your Flag Fly

Let Your Flag Fly


Crazy cannot be concealed (for long).

By Paget Pizitz

Seeing as this column was due approximately three days ago, I am going to spare you the opening paragraph about Louis the cat because I can actually sum it up with much brevity. I delivered him to the vet today and asked he not be returned until someone gives me answers. I can no longer disguise pills as salmon nigiri, make excuses for claw marks on my neck, or try to look cute when a gentleman caller walks me to my door only to be met with what lately appears to be a saber tooth tiger. Good God man, you make it hard for a single lady to sustain a suitor. So, that being said, let’s break it down, relationship style.

The other day, a friend of mine asked me to get a drink with her so she could let her crazy out. No, this “friend” isn’t actually me because I think we all know I lay my crazy cards out on the table. She went on to tell me she had been hiding it from her live–in boyfriend for so long that she was about to explode. Of course, I met her immediately, encouraged multiple whisky drinks, and asked for all of the gory details. Because this person actually exists, I have been forbidden from sharing any of the story specifics. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least allude to a private investigator, a membership to “vampire personals,” and a secret fetish for transvestite bars. Now look, I’ve already said too much and am probably down one friend. At any rate, this leads me to my point. Peaks and valleys. If you’re going to love someone, you are going to have to love their peaks as much as you love and accept the valleys. As shocking as this must sound, relationships aren’t always roses and kittens. Sometimes they are more like wisteria laced with arsenic and rabid sewer rats. In the same respect, don’t hide your crazy from the one you love. I promise it will be found out eventually so it’s better to lay it out from the start. I do caution you to wait until you have a few dates under your belt, though. Need I remind you of the lad I went on one date with in DC who told me, not five minutes into first date small talk, that he had just been released from a Maryland psych ward: #yousharetoomuch. This also leads me to my next point.

I promise I won’t turn this column into a Q&A session but last month I got some really great questions that I didn’t have the time to answer. I also got several that I was not allowed to answer. (Robin, please let me eventually address the one about cheating and a toilet seat.) So, I am going to tackle one more of these doozies and call it a day.


Can people change? I’m happily married but a lot of my friends are single and dating assholes. My friend was saying the other day it was better to marry someone with LOTS of room to improve but WANTS to change, rather than someone who is pretty great but will not make any changes for ANYONE. I think this is because her man is lazy and selfish and she has to believe he is trying to change because she loves him (the sex must be amazing, otherwise I’ve got nothing).

I think the modern family adage is true: people can change, but only about 30 percent. Asking for more is just unfair. What you got?

Married Margot.

Margot, the older I get, the less it seems I know. However, there are a few things I am pretty confident about. Adults with hamsters and no kids should be avoided at all costs, never trust someone who’s nickname is “the swindler,” always know at least one person who regularly says, “It has to be 5 o’clock somewhere” and “You can’t change a Golden Retriever into a Labrador.” Madge, if I may be so bold as to call you that, people usually don’t change. When people reveal to you their true colors, please take them at their word. Don’t enter into a relationship with the expectation that you will be able to change a person into what you think they should be. Molds were made for heart shaped cookies and bundt cakes, not people.

As we part ways this month, I’ll leave you with this little gem that I will indeed claim as my own. To the suitor who told me at the close of our first date, “You know, Paget, I’m always looking for the next best thing. I also can’t wait to take you out again.” I hope you find what you are looking for, and then something else more exciting the next day. You may want to get your profile back up on plentyoffish.com because you, kind sir, are in for quite the bumpy ride.

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