I know you have all been waiting on the edge of your seats since Thursday, so I will satisfy your curiosity before it kills you. I did not meet my husband this weekend. I repeat. I did not meet my husband.
I did meet some very interesting people, though. And many things I have know to be true about myself were reconfirmed. It was a good time and elaborations will be coming soon to a blog near you. This one, to be exact.
But for now, this is one tired girl and she needs to get herself to bed.
My weekend starts today…at 4:45 pm when I get off work. How fun is that? And I get to go home…well, not exactly. I’ll be little in the city (as we always call it), but close enough. I can’t wait. We all know how much I love California. I can taste Caspers already. I don’t know how I’m going to fit everything in (and by everything, I mean all of my favorite shopping and food stops), what with being my sister’s “slave” and attending this singles thing. I’m a little nervous about the latter, but I’m going to do my best to have a good time…in any case, I’m sure I will have some good stories, and I get to take a cruise on the bay, which I have never done before. I must admit I’m feeling some pressure, since I received an email from my sister telling me that she fully expected me to find my husband at this thing, which would be most inconvenient since I have sworn not to get married until I’m done with grad school. Although, I guess I could meet him. I don’t have to get married. Oh, the things that living in P-town is doing to my brain!
Wish me luck!
Oh, one more thing. I went shopping last night (you know, because I’m made of money and thought it would be a good idea…actually, I was stressed out and retail therapy is my family’s drug of choice when it comes to mental health, since it costs about the same as regualr therapy, but you get to come home with clothes/electronics/cosmetics/toys, rather than puffy eyes). I started at the GAP because I needed jeans (yes, needed). I had the a salesperson help me and grabbed a bunch of different styles in my size. I ended up getting a fabulous pair of long and lean jeans. The best part was when I put on the jeans the first time and came out to look in the big mirror, both of the employees standing there said, in unison, “You need a smaller size.” It was fabulous. So I grabbed the smaller size, tried them on and decided to go for it. I’m not sure how I’m feeling about wearing jeans that “fit”, since I’m kind of a fan of loose and baggy, but when I showed them to Sarah later, she said that they looked good (and I don’t think she’d lie to me). Woohoo!
So the title is a bit, well, offensive. I debated using “the law of the jerk factor”, but it just didn’t work for me. Yes, I’m a bad person. But the truth is the truth and this is who I am. Don’t you judge me. Don’t you dare judge me. (Or judge me, but just don’t tell me about it).
Moving on. Last night, Sarah and I were watching Stomp the Yard. For those of you who haven’t seen it, I have one word for you…yum. It is a bunch of fine black men dancing with their shirts off. The romance part of it is classic. Cute boy from the wrong side of the tracks wants girl from the right side of them, but she already has a boyfriend who, incidentally, is both good looking and wealthy, and, as we discover slowly, a jerk.
So, we’re watching the movie, drooling over Columbus Short, and then I say, “You know, the other guy could be seriously hot if it weren’t for the ass factor.” And that is when a name was given to a phenomenon with which we are all familiar. Let me illustrate.
When you first see the guy in the movie, he’s easy on the eyes, but he’s a total pig throughout the entire movie. And so, by the end, you really come to loathe him…and think he’s really not good looking. The reverse ass factor is also true. You can have some perfectly average person become completely irresistible. I like to call this the reverse ass factor transformation.
Personality makes such a difference (at least to someone who isn’t completely and totally carnal) when it comes to looks. A guy once asked me what my type was…and I really could not answer the question. I just don’t have one. I have dated tall, short, skinny, fat, hairy, balding, blond, brunette, blue eyed, brown eyed. I don’t have any kind of standard. I never have. Sure, I can appreciate a “hot guy”, but that’s about where it ends if there isn’t something of substance. This is how I’ve always been.
Maybe guys and girls are different this way, but I know lots of girls who feel the same way I do. It’s amazing how a guy who really isn’t that cute (sorry to use that word in conjunction with guy, but if that bugs you, you really should get over it) can become seriously attractive because his personality is amazing. There’s seriously a transformation of perception. It’s not that you can suddenly overlook his average appearance, it’s that it really is no longer average.
By the same token, and this is where the ass factor comes in, you can be attracted to a guy initially and talk about how hot he is and then, suddenly, you just don’t understand what you, or anyone else, ever saw in him. He’s just not that cute.
One of the reasons I love the movie(s) Pride and Prejudice (both versions…sad, but true) is the reverse ass factor transformation. It’s fascinating how, at the beginning of the movie, Mr. Darcy just isn’t the same Mr. Darcy as he is when Elizabeth finally accepts his proposal. And he hasn’t changed, physically, in the least. But I would submit to you that the betrothed Mr. Darcy is one seriously fine specimen. And there’s also the regular ass factor transformation…poor Mr. Wickham.
I have been very attracted to some very average guys, I have slowly become less and less attracted to some very good looking ones, and I once became super attracted to the hottest guy I have ever dated because he was also so nice and funny, (and had these great tattoos on the back of his amazing calves…he had a few rebellious years). It’s really too bad that I went a little crazy because we would have made beautiful babies…another post for another day.
I’m sure this is not new information. I’m sure most of you realize that this is the case. I’m not trying to say that hot guys are jerks who thereby become less hot, nor am I trying to be an advocate for the average guy and state that they are all hotter than you can imagine. Some hot guys have absolutely incredible personalities and some average guys are complete douche bags. I’m just telling you that you must remember the ass factor…and never discuss this with someone who has become, in your opinion, the beneficiary of a reverse ass factor transformation. Having had my own existential experience with this, it doesn’t matter how complimentary you are trying to be when you say to someone, “I really didn’t think you were that pretty when we first met, but now that I know you, I think you are beautiful”, it’s just a bad idea. No matter what. At least in my world.
My point…for those of you who are single (including me), when some guy you are not physically attracted to asks you out, or when some girl, who is perhaps a bit homely, starts to show interest, until you get to know that person, don’t assume that you will never be attracted to him/her, because you never know until you try. And, as per how others perceive you, remember only good things can come from being a nice person. Even if you are hot enough that you don’t think you have to be nice, someone may think you hot to begin with, but someone can also always change her/his mind…because the law of the ass factor is eternal.
Chivalry is not dead. But it is not well, either.
A few years ago I was at a party with some friends. A few of us girls were talking in a little circle when a few guys walked up. One of the guys had an unopened can of root beer in his hand. One of my friends asked him where he had found it. Rather than tell her, he just held his out and said, “Here, have this one. I’ll go grab another.” She refused and repeated her question. They went back and forth, back and forth, and finally I piped up and said, “Seriously, let the poor guy be a gentleman. Take the soda already.” And this story, I believe, is an example how we women are slowly killing Chivalry.
When I was in high school, I had the most amazing crush on one of my friend’s older brothers. I didn’t share it with anyone, but I’m sure it was quite obvious. I was never (and still am not) one for sharing crushes. In any case, I know it was obvious to him. He was a “college boy” and I was a senior. I just thought he walked on water. And while he was not interested in me, he never failed to be a gentleman. Perhaps it was only because he was living at home, but my guess would be that it was more about how he was raised, that he was always like that.
One night we were hanging out (I think I must’ve been at his house waiting for his brother to get home…his brother with whom I was legitimately friends) and we decided to go get a movie at Blockbuster while we were waiting. This experience was all about the “door opening”. He made sure to open every door. I remember thinking, “This is the type of guy I want to end up with. The type who, regardless of whether or not he’s interested in her, will open doors for any and every girl/woman.
We often have dinner at my grandma’s house. She lives just down the road and, as many of our family friends have migrated to Utah, these dinner parties tend to be quite large and they are always buffet style. The ladies always go first. It’s just the way it is. There’s no question. If a man got in line before any individual woman, that would be the end of it. He would forever be known as “the man who had no manners”.
Well, things are not the same anymore. While Chivalry is alive and well chez my grandmother, I am amazed at how much things have changed just in the last 10 years. I have been guilty of it. I have beat men to doors so that I could open them myself. I have not taken a seat on a crowded bus when it was vacated just for me. I have insisted on sitting in the back seat, even when the front was offered. And on and on. Why do we do this? Why don’t we let men be men and appreciate them for it? Why must we be so independent all the time?
I feel bad for the guys out there. How can they possibly know how to act with all of the mixed signals we send them? This Sunday, after church, we had a “Linger Longer” (for those of you who have no idea what this term means, it’s a meal after church, at church…and at my church, as we are all single, it’s an opportunity to see and be seen). After the blessing on the meal was offered, one of the girls in my ward got up and reminded the guys (in a very polite and lighthearted way) that the ladies should go first. The announcement was as much for the ladies as it was for the men. And even after this, half of us stood around, not wanting to be first, waiting for the guys to get in line.
Why do we have to remind guys to let ladies go first? Why do we have to remind ladies to go first? Why do we have to tell men that it bugs us when, after only a few months of dating, they have stopped opening our doors or carrying our luggage? Why, when we stop at the gas station, are we pumping our own gas…even if we are paying for it?
Honestly, I think a good part of it (like 90%) is our own fault. Perhaps not individually, but collectively. Why would Chivalry want to live in a world where it is under-appreciated?
I love Chivalry. I do not want it to die. Of course I can open my own door, pump my own gas, and carry my own luggage. I am perfectly capable of standing on a bus and I will not starve if I get my food after the men. But that’s not the point. Chivalry allows men to be considerate and show their respect for women (and I personally find Chivalry to be super sexy). Why would we want to crush that? So, here is my plea. The next time a guy/man/boy even, offers to open your door, pump your gas, carry your luggage, give you his seat or insists that you go first, take him up on it and say thank you. I think perhaps, with a little mouth-to-mouth, Chivalry will breathe again.
So, you know I wrote a post yesterday about this jerky guy? Well, then today, I read a post on another blog that made me think. While the post I made yesterday was true…and fun to write…I really don’t want anyone out there to think I hate men or that I think they are all jerks. After reading that other blog post, I thought about what my post may have inspired in my readers.
So, because of that, I’d like to direct you to a few posts about some great men: my dad, my brothers, my friend Hillary’s husband, my friend Denae’s father and husband (her dad was my bishop as a youth and he really is so great!), and the list goes on and on.
Thanks, Farrah, for sharing your thoughts. We all need a little reminding now and again.
Who are the good men in your life? Have you thought to talk about them lately? Please feel free to post links in the comments to your “good men” posts.
existential dilemmas 