Too Close For Comfort? Or Comfort To Be Close?

A joke has been running for years about what Lesbians do on their second date: Hire a U-Haul and immediately move in with their new love. For many gay women, it's the truth.

Now it looks like Taylor Swift has taken that "joke" to a new level on a heterosexual platform since she just bought a trés expensive home right next to the Hyannis Port Kennedy Compound after less than two months of dating the now-legal 18-year-old Conor Kennedy, son of RFK, Jr. – all with Ethel Kennedy's blessing.  What? Buying a home next door to a new love? That was swift, wouldn't you say? If not a tad stalkerish. Brrrrr. Looking at this development from a distance without the "inside details", the little warbler of Tweener Dreams appears a bit pushy.

Disclaimer: I have not followed Taylor's career. I don't believe I have ever listened to her sing. I know she has been "romantically connected" to a series of high-profile absolutely Not For Her types who needed a little beard or temporary willing gf to stand beside at events during a slow career cycle.

But this Conor Kennedy thing is odd. Not that they are dating, as it were, but how suddenly Taylor jumped into the family and is now dressing for the 1960's as she sports a nice-looking (I must admit) rather demure red polka-dot two-piece swimming suit that doesn't expose her navel. She actually looks quite spiffy in it. Pictures HERE

However, I have to lift the ole' skeptical eyebrow on this entire development. Wouldn't you if you had just begun to date someone and within weeks – Blam! – there they are moving into your neighbourhood/apartment building. How often will they drop by for a cup of sugar? Too often, I would think.

I know. I've been there. The too-close-for-comfort living arrangements with a lover. Quickly, I fell into a brief affair with my Duplex Mate in the 80's. Just us two with a wall between our abodes. At first it was terribly convenient to meet up. Knock-knock on the wall. Great sex. Little candlelit dinners. Then the mate began acting extremely possessive and began buying things for me I didn't want. One of which was a watch. I didn't like the feeling that I was being "bought" - which is what was under all of the largess. I had kindly said "No" to the purchase while being herded-around the Jewelry Place as if I would just RUIN the "mood" if I didn't acquiesce to accepting, as well as choosing, the watch. Talk about the Guilt Trip Scenario!

When the ending came and it grew nasty on the Other End at first, I returned all the gifts, tossing them in a heap at their front door when they were out. I was furious and frightened. I don't think I've ever felt so deeply rattled by the chance of harm by another human being as I had a few days earlier from my Hissy-Fit.

I kept the watch, by the way...but only for a day. In a fit of drama, I threw it into the shower so it would die. Fizzle. And then I planned to return it in that condition. But it didn't stop ticking and WAS NOT WATERPROOF! Then I jumped up and down on it so it would break and I would then return it as such. It wouldn't break. I threw it against the wall. Wouldn't even crack. And then, when the Scary Former Lover decided one night to scare the Be-Hay-Suse out of me by throwing things against our shared wall, I did something quite crazy myself to end the harassment by out-craying The Crazy. I threw shoes and numerous items against our conjoined wall. I pounded. I jumped up and down and made lots of noise. I scared the Scary Monster and that was the end of that. All was silent until I eventually moved away.

The Insane Me had been triggered when I had been held against my will while trying to leave the Cray-Cray's home when I expressed the desire to end our fling. Blocked to get out the door. That sort of mind-game and potential physical threat in the air. I also was a tad freaked when informed that there had been a Restraining Order against this Cray-Cray by a former lover. It was all too much. I needed to make an impact to Reduce The Harassment I was now receiving by the Now-Fling-Ex.

Not that I'm suggesting Taylor and Conor would be as crazy as I was in attempting to get someone off my back, but I learned not to live too close to anyone with whom I was involved unless we were headed for Living Together Bliss. I also learned not to be with someone who had a Restraining Order against them for slicing the newspaper their girlfriend was reading with a knife "Just to get her attention."

Oh, but I'm wandering almost off-topic again…

Taylor Swift is 22 and is already considered in some circles as a "Cougar" – Hah! More like a Little Panther inching along the Atlantic Shores to gobble-up the most nubile of the Kennedy clan. A quiet, sweet-faced Panther, of course. This sweet little girl from Nashville has been studying-up on the Kennedy's for over a year. She is reportedly fascinated by them - in her own words, no less. So, who wouldn't want to join in on a game of touch football or two if the Family Of Your Dreams opened their gates to you?

This post isn't really a Big Time Flog against Taylor. It's just an observation that many writers have taken on in the coverage of the Kennedy's (following the suicide of Conor's mother a few months ago) and a C&W Music Star of a Cookies And Milk reputation suddenly gone all Cape Cod and fishy in a flash.

One thing the Kennedy's don't have to worry about is that Miss Swifty isn't out for the money. By now she could probably buy and sell most of the quaint port town (that I have found to be underwhelming in almost every way). Mebe that's why Ethel is so thrilled. No Gold Diggers digging into her family's pockets. And, if/when this new relationship looses it bloom, I'm certain Taylor and Accountants will be able to sell that new home ASAP – just another write-off, you know?

Meanwhile, God Speed to you Taylor. You sure know how to maintain a strong physical presence while you don your new Jackie O "Look." Nevertheless, can anyone please tell me the real reason why Ethel Kennedy is so thrilled to have Taylor aboard? I thought she and Jackie O weren't exactly the best of friends...

Image via: istock.com