Scarlet Blue’s Day Off….
Hell, I have nothing to add, except, if I were a Woman, I’d want to be Scarlet W. Blue (Sometimes, I think I might be Scarlet W. Blue or Vice Versa).
Welcome our newest Writer, and your Future Empress-
My day off…which is really like three hours off because the Jedi will return home soon after a weekend with their dad. I’m going to use my three hours to write this post, my first post at Jonestown. I should be doing laundry (but the washing machine is way down in the basement), or sending out resume packets, or riding my exercise bike…. But it’s my three hours off, see? Probably the only three hours I’ll get all week.
Anyway, by way of a brief introduction, here’s what you need to know about me: fairlane has promised that when he becomes Emperor, I will be Empress. So, I’m counting on you, fairlane.
My father likes to say to me, “Scarlet, yer so contrary, if you was to fall in the Mississippi River n’ drown, they’d find yer ass upstream.” (Like I don’t come by that honestly, old man: look at my life….). But yeah, I’ll own it. And that is why I don’t like to write about things like “relationships” and other so-perceived “girlie” things like nail polish, which I don’t know anything about anyway, except to say that stuff that says “10 Day No Chip” on the label? Not so much, at least not on toenails. I don’t paint fingernails, so I wouldn’t know about that.
But I did read an article the other day that prompted some thinking on my part, despite fierce resistance initially. I’ll come back to that article.
An old friend of mine has dedicated his life to being a foot soldier in the War of the Sexes, and he frequently engages in battles that leave him scarred and wanting revenge. In fact, he sends me emails all the time attempting to prove that women are the source of all human misery and evil. Why he does this, I do not know. I suppose I am to acknowledge his pain and apologize on behalf of all women. Instead, having the aforementioned stubborn streak, which renders me physically and mentally unable, I usually just tell him if he brings the battle of the sexes to my gate, I will slay everyone, equally, without mercy. Male, female, children, pets…. Keep that sh*t away from me.
For the most part, I think it’s better to treat people as individuals, not as “women,” or “men” or “minority group members,” but as unique people with their own qualities. That’s not to say, mind you, that people don’t have concerns and problems related to being women, men, or members of minority groups, but rather they experience these things within the context of their own individuality.
Try pointing this out to my “friend,” and he will promptly inform you that women don’t have “qualities” except those necessary to ruin the lives of men.
ZZZZzzzzz. (That’s snoring, in case you don’t recognize it). I hear your pain. Or feel it or what the fvck ever. Now shut the fvck up.
But I did read an article in Psychology Today the other day called “Desperation with a Difference” by Nando Pelusi, a clinical psychologist, that made me think about this topic, the disconnect between men and women, a bit more. In this article, Pelusi made the point that in relationships, men and women get obsessed with a love interest of the opposite sex at different points in the relationship. And that just leads to trouble.
A summary of the article (attribute any of what follows to me, and I will mock your reading skills sans mercy):
A man becomes obsessed with a woman before he actually enters into a relationship with her. Men tend to idealize women, and this makes a man pursue a woman zealously, sparing no expense to prove he wants her for her and not what he really wants her for. Then, when he snags her, he’s disappointed. She’s not the ideal he imagined. (That twenty minutes of reward came and went. Ha—a pun). Now what? Oh, look! Another one! This behavior leads to disappointment again and again and again.
Women, on the other hand, become obsessed AFTER the relationship commences. They’re not quick to rush in, because they want to know what the relationship will mean in the long term. They’re not into wasting time, perhaps because biologically they have less time to waste. Instead of twenty minutes of intense pleasure, women are (possibly) looking at years and years of parenthood. And this explains why women will often try to make an impossible relationship work, even after the horse is dead and they should get the fvck off. Of the horse, I mean.
I suppose Pelusi believes that Biology drives behavior. But with such radically different hardwiring, how are these two kinds of people EVER going to have a relationship satisfying to both?
There are underlying assumptions to Pelusi’s argument that must be examined. First of all, we’re all heterosexual in this article, which leaves one to wonder how lesbians ever find themselves in committed relationships.
Secondly, we have a tendency to become “obsessed.”
Third, we are, in fact, driven by biological factors beyond our control.
I’m sure there are more assumptions there, but I just ran out of fingers. (Ha! Kidding!)
It’s the last thing that really bugs me (not the dearth of fingers, which I made up, but the biological determinism of sorts). You see, my friend, the one bent on forcing me to account for the misdeeds of all women, swears by biology. Women are denying men the right to their biological destiny, which is to spread their seed far and wide.
Personally, I prefer the insight of writer Barbara Kingsolver, who notes that biology (or in particular the “sociobiology” of Edward O. Wilson) might explain behaviors but doesn’t excuse them. “A creature with a big enough head to make a contract should have the sense to make one it can keep,” says Kingsolver, in an essay titled, interestingly, “Semper Fi.” (I love her, by the way. She makes me wish I were a lesbian.)
Still, a nagging doubt lingers that there is something to this biology thing.
I have the sneaking suspicion I have been idealized, more than once, and then found wanting, despite the fact that I tend to state UP FRONT that I am, indeed, flawed. “Totally effed up,” is more like it. (For some weird reason, men seem to find this charming, actually.) And, therefore, I have disappointed. And been disappointed, to be sure.
And I have known that annoyance of being pursued and wined and dined, only to end up with a couch potato who doesn’t want to leave the house.
Pelusi notes in the article that this vast disconnect between male and female experiences completely turns some people off of the notion of love and relationships. That I readily and easily understand. My reluctance to even address such topics probably indicates a desire to distance myself from the whole thing.
Are men really all about the pursuit?
Are women really all about the hanging on?
Is disappointment inevitable for both?
What does this say about evolution?
Or is there a god that’s just really, really perverse and sort of mean, too?
As usual, I find myself with more questions than answers.