1.5.09
My New Year’s Eve traditions are few and far between. They never involve alcohol, and usually do involve going to bed well before midnight. The only thing I have done with any regularity is write a yearly reflection. I’ve done this since I was fifteen, and I have all of them stowed away in a folder on my computer. Every year, I write the new one, and then go back and read my retellings of the past.
Usually I am just surprised at how every year, I’ve said the same thing—that I’ve finally found a good guy, that I can see through all the societal crap around me, and that I’m surprised at where I am in my life.
When I reread everything this year, I was struck by the amount of lying I did. And it’s not like anyone was reading these—I had no one to impress. I was simply lying to myself. The best part was that I actually acknowledged the lies I was telling myself. Last year’s reflection said, “I know I won’t be happy, but if I keep telling myself I will, then it will come true and I will have to be okay with that.”
Wow. Depressing. I’m not sure which is worse—being twenty and feeling trapped, or feeling like my happiness meant so little.
Yet with this entrée of depression, there was a hearty side dish of urgency: the intense feeling that many college students have of knowing there is something more out there. It’s such a vague statement, but we all feel that way to some degree. There’s something more than this relationship, this school, this class, this part of our lives. The fact of the matter is, these parts of our lives are being written off as unimportant as we constantly search for the “something more” we believe is out there. Cynical as I am, I can’t stop believing in “something more.” I don’t mean that religiously, but rather that there is something better than the life I am living right now.
At some point, I think I am going to have to stop thinking this way. I’ve begun to notice that I typically don’t think that way—I often find myself saying, “well, this is as good as it gets.” But when I start analyzing my life and the ways I’ve gone wrong, I start believing that my life could be better. That I could be better. But as Voltaire alludes to in Candide, if this is the best possible world, then I sure don’t want to see the worst possible world. Likewise, if this is as good as I can be, please don’t make me see the worst I can be.
Though my New Year’s traditions never include resolutions, I think it would be a good idea to stop believing in the “something more” of life, just for a little bit. Believing that the grass is greener elsewhere motivates me to some extent, but the rest of the time, it just sabotages my relationships and other good things in my life.
In my reflection for 2005, I said that it had become necessary to forgo elaborate fantasies in exchange for a pretty good reality. I’m sure I was referring to some completely ridiculous situation, but I wish I’d taken my own words to heart. If I could stop believing in happily ever after, a thesis statement that is tight enough for Dr. Summers, or getting all A’s, I could breathe for a moment and enjoy what was happening in my life, no matter how messy or poorly worded it may be.
Monday, January 5, 2009
A clarification and continuation of last week
11.13
Last week’s column sparked several angry responses to my email inbox from men around campus defending their gender and their motives. And, rest assured, I do know that there are great guys out there who respect women. The ones who were so up in arms are probably some of them.
However, men don’t understand that women deal with guys who are jerks all the time. How many of the messages I’ve received from random guys were downright insulting? How many men do I talk to that don’t realize I have a head on my shoulders? It’s difficult to see anyone’s motives as anything but transparent.
Many of them wanted to know why I didn’t just go out with the typing Casanovas. Why not, indeed? Maybe because I’m sick of trying; maybe because I’m sick of giving people chances they don’t deserve; maybe because many of my relationships have been born of random encounters that ended badly.
The rest said that if these guys tried to be romantic, that I would write them off as psychos or as just being full of it. This is probably true, and I have no rebuttal.
Women are full of paradoxes, and the sooner men understand this, the better. We want to be swept off our feet, but if someone actually tried, we’d probably get freaked out. We want romance, but we’d say you were trying too hard. We want a man who’s secure in his emotions, but we’ll make fun of you with our friends if you cry too much. Yes, this happens in the Chimes office—I’m not making it up.
As cynical and untrusting as I am, deep down I still believe that when I hear the right words, I’ll know. When I see the right face, I’ll know. When the right thing happens, I’ll know. It pains me to say I believe something so ridiculous, but I do. The right guy is going to buy me a book I’ve never heard of and make me fall in love with it, and in turn, him. He’s going to say the right words in the most unassuming way possible. He’s going to send me song lyrics because he can’t write them himself. He will appreciate qualities in me that no one else has bothered to see.
Most women feel this way, and most of us believe this sort of romance will not start with a Facebook message or drunken pickup line. Just like you don’t meet nice women in bars—you have to go to gardening classes or the library—you can’t just go around expecting nice women to want to go out with you after sending them a message that uses “u” instead of “you.”
Last week’s column sparked several angry responses to my email inbox from men around campus defending their gender and their motives. And, rest assured, I do know that there are great guys out there who respect women. The ones who were so up in arms are probably some of them.
However, men don’t understand that women deal with guys who are jerks all the time. How many of the messages I’ve received from random guys were downright insulting? How many men do I talk to that don’t realize I have a head on my shoulders? It’s difficult to see anyone’s motives as anything but transparent.
Many of them wanted to know why I didn’t just go out with the typing Casanovas. Why not, indeed? Maybe because I’m sick of trying; maybe because I’m sick of giving people chances they don’t deserve; maybe because many of my relationships have been born of random encounters that ended badly.
The rest said that if these guys tried to be romantic, that I would write them off as psychos or as just being full of it. This is probably true, and I have no rebuttal.
Women are full of paradoxes, and the sooner men understand this, the better. We want to be swept off our feet, but if someone actually tried, we’d probably get freaked out. We want romance, but we’d say you were trying too hard. We want a man who’s secure in his emotions, but we’ll make fun of you with our friends if you cry too much. Yes, this happens in the Chimes office—I’m not making it up.
As cynical and untrusting as I am, deep down I still believe that when I hear the right words, I’ll know. When I see the right face, I’ll know. When the right thing happens, I’ll know. It pains me to say I believe something so ridiculous, but I do. The right guy is going to buy me a book I’ve never heard of and make me fall in love with it, and in turn, him. He’s going to say the right words in the most unassuming way possible. He’s going to send me song lyrics because he can’t write them himself. He will appreciate qualities in me that no one else has bothered to see.
Most women feel this way, and most of us believe this sort of romance will not start with a Facebook message or drunken pickup line. Just like you don’t meet nice women in bars—you have to go to gardening classes or the library—you can’t just go around expecting nice women to want to go out with you after sending them a message that uses “u” instead of “you.”
Men continue to amaze me...
11.3
Boys are funny.
Or clueless. Whichever you prefer.
Since school started, I have gotten fourteen (fourteen!) Facebook messages from men I have either never met, or with whom I am barely acquainted. This is more than one message per week. Men on campus: don’t you have classes with girls? Are you desperate?
What makes them think the messaging of strangers is a good idea? One said:
“So I went to the "Do you know this person" section on Facebook, and your name came up. I thought to myself, "Who is this person?" So I looked up what I could, and I thought you seemed pretty cool. So hi, I'm X, and I hope you think I'm cool too.”
Sorry to X, because I do think X seems pretty cool. His message just happens to be one I have not deleted, which is why I’m copying it straight out of my Facebook inbox. We actually have a lot in common, and he is probably a great guy. I wasn’t creeped out, and he seems smart, which is a plus. But the fact remains: X and I have never met.
X’s message was pretty tame compared to others, some of them saying something along the lines of, “wow, you’re really hot, we should get together sometime.” Usually this basic sentence is riddled with misspellings and grammatical errors, which is another testament to how little these boys know of me.
Some of them comment on my columns, which is equally hilarious, because usually I am berating men and my experience with relationships. None of these men are telling me that they are going to be my knight in shining armor; none of them say they want to prove me wrong about men. They just want to “get together sometime.”
My ex continues to provide fodder for the gender cannon, further proving that boys are funny and clueless. He thinks that by posting pictures of himself doing body shots off ugly girls will make me jealous. It really just makes him look sloppy and desperate.
It would take him getting his act together and dating a Petra Nemcova lookalike and a MENSA membership to boot to make me jealous.
The fact of the matter is, courtship and relationships could be simple if we’d allow it. Getting to know someone isn’t hard, figuring out if you like someone isn’t hard. Why should dating them or breaking up with them be hard? I have personally always found the breaking up part to be quite simple, but that’s beside the point.
Hooking up with someone you don’t know or making someone jealous is not the way to his or her heart. That may be the way to a few weeks of shallow fun, but I’ve realized that college is the last place I’ll be that’s filled with eligible bachelors. Luckily, I happen to have someone in mind, sans awkward Facebook messages and ridiculous pictures designed to make me jealous.
Boys are funny.
Or clueless. Whichever you prefer.
Since school started, I have gotten fourteen (fourteen!) Facebook messages from men I have either never met, or with whom I am barely acquainted. This is more than one message per week. Men on campus: don’t you have classes with girls? Are you desperate?
What makes them think the messaging of strangers is a good idea? One said:
“So I went to the "Do you know this person" section on Facebook, and your name came up. I thought to myself, "Who is this person?" So I looked up what I could, and I thought you seemed pretty cool. So hi, I'm X, and I hope you think I'm cool too.”
Sorry to X, because I do think X seems pretty cool. His message just happens to be one I have not deleted, which is why I’m copying it straight out of my Facebook inbox. We actually have a lot in common, and he is probably a great guy. I wasn’t creeped out, and he seems smart, which is a plus. But the fact remains: X and I have never met.
X’s message was pretty tame compared to others, some of them saying something along the lines of, “wow, you’re really hot, we should get together sometime.” Usually this basic sentence is riddled with misspellings and grammatical errors, which is another testament to how little these boys know of me.
Some of them comment on my columns, which is equally hilarious, because usually I am berating men and my experience with relationships. None of these men are telling me that they are going to be my knight in shining armor; none of them say they want to prove me wrong about men. They just want to “get together sometime.”
My ex continues to provide fodder for the gender cannon, further proving that boys are funny and clueless. He thinks that by posting pictures of himself doing body shots off ugly girls will make me jealous. It really just makes him look sloppy and desperate.
It would take him getting his act together and dating a Petra Nemcova lookalike and a MENSA membership to boot to make me jealous.
The fact of the matter is, courtship and relationships could be simple if we’d allow it. Getting to know someone isn’t hard, figuring out if you like someone isn’t hard. Why should dating them or breaking up with them be hard? I have personally always found the breaking up part to be quite simple, but that’s beside the point.
Hooking up with someone you don’t know or making someone jealous is not the way to his or her heart. That may be the way to a few weeks of shallow fun, but I’ve realized that college is the last place I’ll be that’s filled with eligible bachelors. Luckily, I happen to have someone in mind, sans awkward Facebook messages and ridiculous pictures designed to make me jealous.
Do not pass Go, do not collect $200
10.23
Last week, my mom came home with the library with a book for me, not about the GRE or writing the best cover letter, but about relationships: The Seven Dumbest Relationship Mistakes Smart People Make. The title is a mouthful, and the contents are a bunch of contradictory psychological mumbo-jumbo.
The first half of the book was about telling your partner what you want, and not expecting him to read your mind. The second half was about how to play games, because playing games was necessary for a relationship’s success. I should not make myself available, not call back immediately, and not make room in my schedule for him—even in committed relationships. But I’m also supposed to just say what I want from him.
Does anyone else see the problem here?
Of course, I get the author’s point. And I have expected men to read my mind (it doesn’t go well) and I’ve also played plenty of games in my day (which did not go well, either). Her example was that if I wanted red flowers on my birthday, I should tell him, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted red flowers on my birthday. If he failed to do that, I should play games, insinuating that I’m teaching him a lesson.
Nothing about this says “fulfilling relationship” to me. Firstly, if I want to be with someone, why can’t I just say it? Aren’t we both adults who can handle the truth? I’ve always been very straightforward with men; if I like them, I say so. I like to get what I want, and typically I’ll do anything to get it. According to the author, I’m sabotaging my relationships before they even start, because I’m not playing hard to get and letting him pursue me. If a man was playing hard to get with me, I would get very annoyed and move on.
In my relationships, while I’ve subconsciously expected some mind-reading, I’ve also made a sincere effort to communicate directly and clearly. I also call back in a reasonable amount of time and am willing to rearrange my schedule, within reason.
My friend Carrie at Otterbein, who recently broke up with her boyfriend of three years (and has moved on to a new catch), said, “I want to believe that I can have a relationship without games; that we can just say what we want and be together. I want to believe it can be that simple.”
For both of us, history has proved otherwise. That sort of relationship just doesn’t seem to be out there, as much as we want it to be. When we make ourselves available and tell a guy what we want, he seems uninterested. When we stop calling, or emailing, or texting, he becomes more interested. Is it the thrill of the chase? If it was meant to be, would a chase be in the cards at all? I would like to say no—that we could just tell the other person how we felt, and that could be it. Until then, I guess we’ll both turn our phones off and start hanging out with each other in order to be unavailable.
Let the games begin.
Last week, my mom came home with the library with a book for me, not about the GRE or writing the best cover letter, but about relationships: The Seven Dumbest Relationship Mistakes Smart People Make. The title is a mouthful, and the contents are a bunch of contradictory psychological mumbo-jumbo.
The first half of the book was about telling your partner what you want, and not expecting him to read your mind. The second half was about how to play games, because playing games was necessary for a relationship’s success. I should not make myself available, not call back immediately, and not make room in my schedule for him—even in committed relationships. But I’m also supposed to just say what I want from him.
Does anyone else see the problem here?
Of course, I get the author’s point. And I have expected men to read my mind (it doesn’t go well) and I’ve also played plenty of games in my day (which did not go well, either). Her example was that if I wanted red flowers on my birthday, I should tell him, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted red flowers on my birthday. If he failed to do that, I should play games, insinuating that I’m teaching him a lesson.
Nothing about this says “fulfilling relationship” to me. Firstly, if I want to be with someone, why can’t I just say it? Aren’t we both adults who can handle the truth? I’ve always been very straightforward with men; if I like them, I say so. I like to get what I want, and typically I’ll do anything to get it. According to the author, I’m sabotaging my relationships before they even start, because I’m not playing hard to get and letting him pursue me. If a man was playing hard to get with me, I would get very annoyed and move on.
In my relationships, while I’ve subconsciously expected some mind-reading, I’ve also made a sincere effort to communicate directly and clearly. I also call back in a reasonable amount of time and am willing to rearrange my schedule, within reason.
My friend Carrie at Otterbein, who recently broke up with her boyfriend of three years (and has moved on to a new catch), said, “I want to believe that I can have a relationship without games; that we can just say what we want and be together. I want to believe it can be that simple.”
For both of us, history has proved otherwise. That sort of relationship just doesn’t seem to be out there, as much as we want it to be. When we make ourselves available and tell a guy what we want, he seems uninterested. When we stop calling, or emailing, or texting, he becomes more interested. Is it the thrill of the chase? If it was meant to be, would a chase be in the cards at all? I would like to say no—that we could just tell the other person how we felt, and that could be it. Until then, I guess we’ll both turn our phones off and start hanging out with each other in order to be unavailable.
Let the games begin.
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