In the year 1913, trying desperately to free art from the dead weight of the real world, I took refuge in the form of the square.That quote above was one my Art History 1800 to Present professor put into the syllabus. I like it. How often I have wished desperately to take refuge in something--anything--other than myself.
The quote in the page header is taken from one of my favorite novels, John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath." It comes at the point where Tom is breaking away from the Joad clan in order to save them undue stress and misery at the hands of the authorities after he runs into some legal trouble while being involved in the workers' rights movement. His mother, knowing that she'll never see her boy Tom again, still asks when, if ever, he'll be back in her life. The passage the quote is from has Tom telling his mother that if she just looks into the eyes of the poor, the oppressed, the downtrodden, the lepers of society, she'll be sure to see him because he is one of them and he is fighting for them.
How the two quotes relate to me is that I often find myself among the legions of Tom Joads and those whom he is fighting for--there, but unseen. I often find myself wanting to escape from the world as a whole because I get very frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that I don't get noticed and appreciated for who I am as a person.
Let me explain what's been going on.
Obviously, if you've been reading the past couple of entries, you'll know I had a quasi love affair go wrong. (And, yes, mofo still has my barrettes. Not cool.) I'm not terribly hurt about the breakup of the relationship itself. In the long term, R-- and I weren't truly compatible. We had different goals. What bothers me is the persistent pattern of love gone wrong in my life.
The longest romantic relationship I've ever had in my whole dating life was the month-long relationship I had with my ninth-grade boyfriend, M--. I think the fact that we lasted a whole month was actually telling. Because for that month, M-- was a good guy, very conscientious and considerate. He just fell off the great boyfriend band wagon after about a month when he decided to no longer be a nice guy and dump me to pursue a girl who was clearly uninterested in him. (In fact, she refused his advances pretty good. He tried to come back to me after about 2 weeks of dogged pursuit of her, and I flatly refused to take him back because I thought that was rude. I was also pretty insulted that M-- had been so intent on that girl when he had me. If there's anything I don't like, it's coming up in second place for a man's romantic interests. After all, only one bitch wins the Westminster Dog Show. There's no runner up there. No "Congratulations! You were almost as good as the Standard Schnauzer this year!" or "Your 14-inch Beagle has the best personality of all the dogs here this year!" It's go big or go home there. Same for the Miss America competition. No one ever remembers or pays attention to whoever takes the "Miss Congeniality" prize at that event. After all, I, who am not a devotee of beauty contests, could probably name you half a dozen Miss America winners, but I don't even know if they award runner up, Miss Congeniality, etc. at the Miss America competitions. I don't want to know that I'm your second choice, that if you could truly have what you actually wanted, you'd have someone different. I think that's insulting and demeaning. It means I'm only "adequate" or "slightly above average" in comparison to another person. For someone who has always received "exceeds expectations" and "highly above average" marks in everything I've done in my past, being merely average--ho hum, so to speak--does not sit well with me. If nothing else, I'm a perfectionist about myself. If I don't think it's right, I do it until I am satisfied, no matter how long it takes. I realize that I am not perfect, and no one else is either, but I would like to at least have the impression that you think I'm a good 8 or 9 on a 10-point likeability scale.)
And that's been the whole problem with my dating life. If I could get a dating relationship to last beyond a month, I honestly don't know what I'd do with myself. Or the guy. I certainly wouldn't be pushing for marriage and children, but I'm at a loss as to where to go from there, if anywhere. I could honestly see myself saying at a 6-month or 1-year anniversary mark, "Dude, you're weirding me out! Can we just have breakup sex now and just get it over with?!" Honest to God, the number of times I've been told, "I've had a great time. I'll call you tomorrow/random day of the week/next week/etc." and then NEVER received a phone call EVER, could probably make the Guinness Book of Records. (Only Jenny at 867-5309 has received more nonexisitant calls. Especially after karoke night at the Elks.) And I swear to God, the next time some guy tells me that after a date, I'm going to lean really close to him, look him dead in the eye, laugh really loudly and falsely and obnoxiously and say really boisterously (to clearly draw the attentions of any and all people in the immediate vicinity), "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE HILARIOUS! TELL ME ANOTHER ONE! WOO HOO, EVERYONE! LOOK AT THIS DUDE! HE'S HOT AND HE'S FUNNY! DOUBLE THREAT! HA HA! *SNORT!*" The only reasoning I have for this plan of action is that perhaps it would be the only way to get through to said guy that if he's not going to actually call a woman, he shouldn't make the promise that he's going to call again. Yes, I'd be blatantly using shaming as an educational tool, but ladies who are coming around further down the line, you'll thank me. (Unfortunately, the plan of action is only implementable on a one-on-one basis at this point. I'm hoping recruits and disciples will flock to my methods once they see the successful outcomes I've had. Or not. Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm not getting a second date, so I might as well be brutally honest because it's been a long time comin'.) You won't wait around for that particular guy to call you because he'll be smart enough to keep his mouth shut on the subject of future phone contact. Seriously, I can handle ending the night with "I had a nice time. It was nice to meet you. *Crickets*" and we shake hands or peck each other on the cheek and go about the rest of our lives like we never met. But if you promise me you will call, and you don't, you are being rude and hurtful because you have lied to me. At least with my method ("I had a nice time, nice to meet you---SILENCE!"), you're not a liar and a jerk, and my feelings aren't hurt because you were honest enough to tell me (albeit subtly) that you don't want future contact. It also doesn't get me all paranoid about having my number out in too many places because (again, subtly) you've indicated to me that you'll probably be discarding my number in some way. So that is the way I would like to be initially treated by someone in possession of a Y chromosome. You know. Like Aretha sang so masterfully: "R-E-S-P-E-C-T!" Find out what it means to me, home boy. Humor me. For once.
I also have a problem with what I call "Boomerang Boy Syndrome." It's when you're dating a guy, and he, for whatever reason, suddenly stops calling, texting, e-mailing, etc. and falls off the face of your universe, only to return weeks, months, or even years later and expects to resume some sort of relationship with you with NO perfectly valid explanation for his past behavior or current motives (like alien abuduction, forced servitude in a penal colony, a spontaneous and lengthy bout of total amnesia, working a very covert spy mission for the CIA, looking for Jimmy Hoffa's body and finding out exactly what happened, taking a wrong turn in the Bermuda Triangle, tracking the last known whereabouts of D. B. Cooper and solving the case, working in HR at the North Pole workshop resolving conflicts between the elves' union and Santa, etc.). Guys will do this to me and be all offended when I'm like "I'm suspicious of you now, and I think you're shady, so step off" and don't drop my whole life and routine to be with them. They're also all flabbergasted when I go back to that previously mentioned issue of mine (not wanting to be runner-up in a man's attentions and affections) and tell them something to the effect of "You probably dropped out of my world to be with someone else, and when that didn't work out, you came back to me, and I'm not cool with that. I'm offended and insulted that you left, and I'm doubly offended and insulted that now you've crawled back to me to clean up that mess. Guess what? I'm not yo' mamma, and I don't clean up for you or after you! Fix your own problems! Who do you think I am anyway, Sigmund Freud, Florence Nightingale, or Mother Theresa? 'Cuz here's news: I'm not any of them, nor do I intend to be." I'm not against second chances, but I haven't come across anyone who is worthy enough of redemption or has very valid reasons for walking out of my life suddenly and spontaneously reappearing later. Because here's my thinking: if I started dating someone and something drastic and unforeseen happened that would cause me to spontaneously walk away but want to someday resume a relationship (like wrongful imprisonment), I would come to them and say, "Hey, I like you, but I'm being sent to the Big House for something I didn't do and I don't know when I'm getting out--if ever--so I'm turning you loose so you don't waste your life waiting for me. If the Supreme Court sees the light and lets me go, or the Governor issues me a complete pardon, or if I ever regain my freedom in some other way, I'll look you up. Until then, have a nice life. Here's looking at you, kid." (Yes, that was totally a "Casablanca" reference.) My point being: if, for whatever reason, you can't be in a relationship right now but want one later, just give me a simple explanation as to why it's not going to work out right now. Don't just vanish, reappear, and then be hurt and mystified when I don't immediately fall all over myself to be back in your life. I have a life, too. And it doesn't involve being Rapunzel in a tower waiting for you, the Supposed Prince, to climb my hair and rescue me. Here's a hint: I am perfectly capable of saving myself and taking care of myself. I am also like Melmoth the Wanderer, constantly, ceaselessly moving forward, never stopping, never resting, often to the point of delirium. If you expect me to retrace my steps and come back to you, you've got to give me a damn good reason to do so. Otherwise, you're just excess baggage laboring and impeding my progress. The thing about the past is that it is just that, the past--monolithic and unrepeatable, and often for good reason. To cling to it is to cling to chains and irons that only hold you and slow you. The best course of action for the past is to sever yourself from the unpleasant parts as though they were necrotic limbs, useless and fetid, and to cast small backwards glances at the wonderful parts and hold them close to your heart as you continue to put one foot in front of the other, day after day. Yeah, I roll up the welcome mat if you leave. I'm not going to be in an endless cycle of dysfunction of us being together, then you leaving for someone else, then you crawling back to me. I did that sort of thing with one guy for a couple of cycles. It was emotional hell. I was neurotic, jealous, suspicious, paranoid, nosy as hell, elated, and depressed all at once. It was exhausting, physically and emotionally. So I wised up. No more. No one does that to me any more. It's selfish to do that to another person, and I don't treat you selfishly, so you don't get to treat me like I am there for nothing more than your emotional and physical fulfillment. I am a whole separate being with separate wants, needs, hopes, dreams, goals, and desires, and I'm old and wise enough now to know that those things in me need to be respected in me first before I can respect them in you. Because if you do not respect those parts of me, I will not have cause to respect them in myself because you will violate them, which will lead to me devaluing them. And then I will devalue myself by staying with you, allowing you to disrespect me as a human being. And that I cannot do. Not any more. I am not stupid, and I am not weak. And you will not treat me that way repeatedly. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
And then there's the guys I always seem to nab: The Guy Who Never Has Time For You. This type of guy is the kind of guy who asks you out on dates, but it fizzles out quickly because the length of time between his follow up texts and calls gets longer and longer until he no longer contacts you any more. You typically meet only sporadically because he just can't seem to fit you into his busy schedule except for once every harvest moon, blue moon, February 29, Pi Day, or Friday the 13th. Many times, especially if you have mutual acquaintances and friends, you'll find that he could have invited you out on this day or that afternoon or to that event he was already attending, but he chose not to, which is hurtful. He is not to be confused with the guy who only asks you on a first date and then never calls you again. This is a guy who asks you out for a first date, which typically goes really well, and then indicates rather enthusiastically that he'd like to see you again. Then he'll call a short while after date #1 and ask for another. And another. And then the dates will start becoming few and far between. You know when these dates become less and less frequent that there are plenty of times he could've asked you to go somewhere or accompany him, but he doesn't. Even if it is an event that you both like and involves mutual friends and acquaintances and he's definitely going and your schedule allows you to go, too, he doesn't ask you to attend. And the frequency of his other contacts (e-mails, texts, calls, etc.) drops off dramatically. He comes on strong and then fizzles out quickly, much like a firework. And dating him is about as satisfying as going to a fireworks show that only features one small firework going off. Then--POOF!--like a ghost at sunrise, he's gone. You even think he may have suddenly had to join the Federal Witness Protection Program, but then--BOOM!--if you have mutual friends/acquaintances, he'll be at your next mutual friends' annual cookout. Sometimes he'll even come up and talk to you at the cookout like you never dated. Like he never told you he thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen and that you were so nice and that he really liked you and wanted to continue to see you. Dude, I get that you may no longer want to date me, but just be kind enough to tell me gently. Don't just leave me wondering. That's just an integral part of my personality: I like things to resolve. I hate, hate, hate stories, movies, etc. that do not tie things up nicely at the end. That's why I'm not really big on modern literature and movies. A lot of them have no resolution--they just kind of end--and then there's no follow up in a sequel. It annoys me in literature, and it drives me batty in my interpersonal life. I'm a big enough and strong enough girl to handle it if you say, "Hey, I'm just not feeling it. Let's just be friends." Initially, my pride might be a little wounded, but I'll get over it. Don't want to hurt my feelings? Well, it happens. Man up. And people I've come across in my life who've never had the opportunity to grow and change following a disappointment in their lives tend to be unrealistic, self-centered, and sociopathic, so I think a certain amount of getting your feelings hurt and your hopes dashed is necessary in the formation of a healthy, grounded, and pleasant personality. And, frankly, I'd be less hurt if you just told me something--anything--to let me know we're not compatible, even if it is "I don't want to date you because you smell like feet!" (Say that, and I'll sure as hell the problem is not with me because you are a phenomenal ass goblin. Especially since I wear Chanel perfume.) That way, I know if I need to work on something, or if it really is you as opposed to me. I just feel that a "real" man is honest enough and kind enough to not leave anyone hanging. I do my best to not leave anyone hanging. Sometimes, it might be a really long time before I return your call/text/e-mail/etc., but I will eventually respond to you. I don't think leaving other people without a resolution is very considerate. I also like having the satisfaction of letting people know at least once that they are on the rather small and exclusive Perpetual Shit List. It takes a lot to get on that list, so if you're on it, I feel that it's best for you to know that you're on it so you can avoid me and revel in the fact that I dislike you rather intensely. Since it takes a rather large effort to get on the PSL, I at least want you to have the opportunity to congratulate yourself on your accomplishments, since you're probably such a douche that you don't care that you made me mad enough to nominate you for the list's consideration in the first place. So I feel it's the least I can do, really. But fellas: just be considerate enough to let me know you don't want to date me. It's not too hard, and it keeps you off the PSL.
And then there are guys like R--, the barrette hoarder. As someone who has listened to me and talked to me about this matter said: he probably felt intimidated by my intelligence. (This was this person's observation. I'm not claiming I'm the sharpest pencil in the box. In fact, send me to MIT, and I'm pretty sure they'd start making "dumb right-brained woman" jokes at my expense. Yes, those smarties would invent a whole new category of insulting jokes just to deal with me when I couldn't grasp multi-variable differential calculus.) He was not a stupid man by any means, but he was one of those blue-collar guys who doesn't like their women to be as smart as or smarter than them, which is why this person thinks that he stopped talking to me/seeing me when I recently returned to college. (He said early on that he didn't have any problems being in a somewhat serious--as in living together--relationship with a woman who was "dumb as hell but hot.") And I'm not knocking blue-collar workers by any means. People who are gifted when it comes to mechanical things are very useful individuals, and I admire their abilities to fix and build stuff. A lot of times, it's the college-educated PhD people who come up with the latest awesome mechanical development, but it's the blue-collar people who actually take the idea off the drafting board and turn it into reality and work out the kinks in the design. But like I told this confidant about R--, if I'd ever introduced him to my family (who are all well educated, white-collar people, but not snobbish by any means), I would've had a damned hard time convincing them that I hadn't picked him up outside of the local Home Depot when I was looking for someone to spread the spring mulch shipment around the landscaping. (No offense to the day laborers, either. You people are awesome, too. But R-- wasn't. He's the only one I'm trying to offend here.) And, yes, that last statement was what I was going to tell you about R-- the last time we met, confidant. I remembered it probably an hour after I got home after we last talked.
Which leads me to the quote about taking refuge in the square. I don't by any means think I'm the brightest crayon in the box, in fact, I know of many instances where I was clearly the dumbest person in the room (or at least the only one willing to admit it and act upon it), but I am not stupid. Nor am I willing to act like it. And that causes problems with a lot of men, not just men who aren't well-educated. I've seen that look in many a well-educated man's eyes when I start to talk that indicates that he's no longer interested in me now that he knows I'm not dumber than a box of bricks. And that's fine. Woman I am, stupid I am not. I'm not going to play dumb, either, just to keep your ego going. I'll not be patronizing--in fact, I try very hard not to be because I think it's really rude to talk down to people--but I'm not going to baby-talk, either. But at what point do I stop being too smart? Why is it that I can never meet a man who wants an intellectual equal? I'm tired of smart guys who only want women who are all foam and no beer. I thought smart people were supposed to like other smart people. I have plenty of smart female and male friends, and I enjoy spending time with them, but I can never meet a man who is both romantically and intellectually interested in me. Which makes me want to open a big can of "Fuckitol" and crawl inside the square sometimes.
Unfortunately, that's a very fundamental part of my personality. I have NEVER wanted to be the prettiest girl in the room. I have ALWAYS wanted to be the smartest and most accomplished woman in the room. Looks fade and are largely subjective anyway, but intelligence and accomplishments are around forever. If I get a PhD at 35, I'll have a PhD until the day I die, but if I'm a "10" in the looks department at 35, by the time I'm 85, I'll probably be gray, wrinkled, saggy, deaf, demented, and incontinent, not really anything anyone would consider giving a second look at, unless I was trying to break out of the dementia ward again. And in that case, no one would find me attractive, just very frustrating.
I also don't like how pretty women are never taken seriously if they're intelligent, too. Apparently a woman can be smart OR pretty. Not both. Like Heddy Lamarr. She invented the signal frequency hopping that was first used during World War II to make radar-controlled underwater torpedoes invisible to the detection methods of the day that is now used by modern-day cell phones to get the best possible signal for your calls. But how many people know that? Not that many. More people are probably better acquainted with the fact that she also did the first full-frontal female nudity scene in a low budget silent Czech film titled "Exstase!" ("Ecstasy!") in the mid 1920s, which is still a rather obscure factoid generally known only by intensely passionate film buffs because of her large body of works done in the well-financed and well-publicized Hollywood studio system of the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s. Heddy Lamarr is almost exclusively considered a very beautiful actress, not a very beautiful actress AND highly accomplished mathematician. Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield were both supposedly highly intelligent (in fact, it is rumored that Mansfield's IQ was in the 160s, placing her in the genius range of the IQ scale), but no one paid attention to them until they developed the "dumb, beautiful blond" routines. That cute little girl who used to play Topenga on "Boy Meets World"? Who's heard of her since she left acting to get her PhD in mathematics from an Ivy League school? (I have. I saw an interview with her shortly after she was awarded the degree for solving what was formerly thought to be an unsolvable calculus problem. She'd written a book for young teenage girls that was attempting to get them interested in higher mathematics.) In fact, especially in the sciences, accomplished women are viewed as bookish, cold, unrelateable, fashion-challenged, humorless, demanding, bitchy, nerdy, awkward, unpleasant, mannish, and unattractive. No wonder there is a problem with getting girls and young women interested in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) careers! No one wants to go into a profession where they'll automatically be considered personally deficient just because they're in it! No one goes to a guy "Oh, you'd be so hot if only you weren't a mechanical engineering major with a 3.69 GPA! You probably never go to parties or get laid or laugh at jokes!" Generally, when you see a guy like that, he gets a certain presumption of innocence before he's automatically pegged as a "hag" or a "nerd." He has to prove he has the personality of a moldy wet blanket before he's labeled as having one. And he tends to pique the interests of others as being a "good catch," if only for his future income potential. Women who pursue a Doctor of Medicine/Doctor of Osteopathy (MD/DO) degree are frequently regarded as "ball-busters" and "anti-family" since many people who go to medical school go at a time when they are still young enough to have children or have young children. Who wants to study hard to become a cardiologist when you'll just be viewed as a shrew and bad mother? (That's why there are such disproportionate numbers of women who are nurses. Nurses are perceived as "warm" and "nice," even though they've never been shown to be any more warm, nice, affectionate, etc. than any other profession.) It's all very frustrating. I'm not cold because I can correctly interpret the periodic table of the elements. I'm not a hag because I find quantum mechanics fascinating. I'm not friendless because my favorite classes are microbiology classes and I get very good grades in them. And I'm not hideous and poorly dressed and sexless because I can talk intelligently on a variety of topics from politics (US and international) to art to ribosomal RNA production to Monty Python sketches and everything in between. But I'm not going to play dumb to make you feel superior. I don't want a relationship like that. I was always told as a child that I am the lateral of any of my peers, so I will not be servile to any man. Or woman. No one. I will respect you, but you don't get to dominate me. I am not a dog, I am a human, and I will not be submissive to you. That's just how I am.
Hmm...this has gotten a bit long, so I'm going to split it into multiple parts. Look for part 2 of this entry soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment