One of my friends recently told me a story….he had met up with his sister, who is one of the nation’s leading rocket ship scientists (or something that made it clear she is super smart and successful; details may have been changed to protect the innocent) and a bunch of her just as successful, powerful, and beautiful friends. They all went to dinner one night after their conference in town and were enjoying catching up…talking fancy schmancy rocket ship science and smart shit, but as they arrived at the restaurant and were waited on by this drop dead gorgeous “can’t-look-away” type sultry goddess. So the conversation among the women quickly turned into degrading and judgmental things about said goddess. Comments such as “omg, isn’t that a bit over the top?”, “I wonder how much all THAT work cost her? (insert evil giggle here),” and on and on and on (insert numerous eye rolls). My friend was stunned. He asked “is that just something you women do?!?!” He was floored that a group of these highly intelligent, successful, beautiful women would be that quickly devoured by jealousy and would succumb to its temptation to be petty, cruel, and well, kinda pathetic. As he told the story, none of us women hearing it were surprised. We, not batting an eye and being the very wise and self aware women that we were, told him that women default to jealousy and insecurity and then to petty cruelty. We laughed about it being “our way.” But, of course, we all (ok, I did anyway, I’m just gonna assume they did too) internally judged those petty women (while also secretly hating that gorgeous goddess) and hoped that if it would have been us being seated by that sultry goddess, we would have been less petty and more secure. Heh. I wonder.
Okay, let’s face facts, boys, you’ve all said some variation of “Damn, I wish my wife would go fishing with me” or “I wish my girlfriend understood the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars.” or “Why can’t my wife understand why I simply can’t get rid of my Millenium Falcon toy just because I’m turning 40?” or “I hate it when she starts rolling her eyes whenever I tell her why I would rather have the superpower of invisibility rather than telepathy (trust me, she knows why and knows it involves a girls locker room).” How about “why do her eyes glaze over whenever I start talking about Camaros?” or “why does she have to constantly nag me about playing videos games, I need to do that to decompress after a shitty day at work?”
Here’s the scoop. Whether you are a sci fi fanatic, an outdoorsman, a gear head, a micro-brewer, a gamer, or just really passionate about electronics, time travel, string theory, how cheese is made, or adamant about your theory about how Wolverine would crush the Green Arrow in some alternate verse where DC and Marvel collide (shiver of horror), you probably think she doesn’t care. And guess what? That’s because she doesn’t.
BUT, if it is important to you to snag a wife that actually kinda gets what gets you going, then you, my friend, either keep looking for someone different OR learn how to geek your bride. Let’s face it, you probably love her for all kinds of other things….her eyes, her giggle, the way her boobies fill out her sweater, the fact that she puts up with your shit, and of course, how smushy and soft she feels when you cuddle on the couch. So, if you found someone you like and isn’t repulsed by you, keep her. And then, of course, geek her.
Obvious disclaimer, these are just some observations, including things my manly geek did right that got me heading in the geek direction, things he totally botched that made me wanna run in the opposite direction, and things I noticed I was thinking or doing. And just a few of my ideas because I’m fairly clever and had extra coffee today. Also, I am almost an expert on this topic because I am married to the man who has the MOST HOBBIES AND INTERESTS IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING MILKY WAY. I also know that is a galaxy and not just a candy bar, which only adds to my credibility.
So, here’s some tips. (For the game we all like to play, just the tip…)
1. Learn more about what she likes. Yep. I don’t care if it seems pointless to learn about opera or going to the beach or all the different kinds of shoes. If you show an interest in what she likes and learn more about it, you might find that she will return the favor. Also, you need to learn what she likes because you may find that there are some comparable thing in your geeky world that she might kinda like. Figure out what makes her tick. Because you love her AND because this will be helpful information for your future manipulative methods. Example: I never fished growing up, never cared to, BUT Aaron quickly discovered that I love to be outdoors, camping, hiking, etc. I ALSO love to read books. I ALSO love, fricking love to lay out and get an kickass tan. What do all of those easily translate into? A day on the boat floating down the river…he’s catching fish, I’m catching rays while reading about a murdering butler. Or rowing.
2. Be passionate, but never pushy, about what you love.. When you talk about what you love to do, don’t just talk about it as “something to do.” Talk about it with passion, let your eyes light up with glee, get all animated, let the goofy grin beam. For one, a passionate man is fucking sexy. I am most likely to want to jump Aaron’s bones when he is all passionate about the life cycle of a mayfly AND that he is so passionate about me that he wants to share it with me. I first “fell in love” (if you believe a such a ridiculous concept) with him when he was excitedly telling me some long drawn out but hilarious story about mishaps fishing with his Gramps. I sat there watching him talk and gesture and I suddenly thought, “oh shit, I’m gonna marry this man.” So, keep sharing the excitement, it’s contagious, BUT don’t always be pushing her to be as excited about it as you are. Give her time..she might get more interested, might wanna try it, but if you push, she will back away (or perhaps run away in horror and disgust). Pushing equals pressure and we all hate pressure.
3. Start slow and be tricksy about it. Once you have some data about what she likes, what gets her all excited, and how she responds to the things you are passionate about, start slow, but apply your tricksy manipulation skills (don’t even pretend that only girls have these skills…chicks tend to have better intuition but it’s really just collecting data and analyzing it at a superhero level of speed and effectiveness because YOU men have the superpower of being able to open that fucking jar of pickles….seriously, HOW do you guys do that?!?!). If she likes sitcoms or dramas on TV/movies, start her out on some scifi shows that are more relational based, that develop the characters early on. This is why I LOVE shows like Buffy and Firefly. Also consider what kind of qualities she admires in people….it will help you figure out what characters she might identify with. I promise you, if she can’t identify with at least one character in a show or game or comic, she won’t give a shit. As far as hobbies go, the same applies, what is a good match for her interests? If she hates getting dirty, your hobby of mud bogging might take some serious creativity to spin correctly. You are going have to try a few different things, different ways of making whatever you are doing enticing to her. But be patient and be creative. Also analyze her responses to your attempts….this is more data. Don’t get discouraged, but go…Slow. Stay out of warp speed here. That’s a good way to burn out your hyperdrive.
4. Never make her have to compete for your attention. Ok, so be passionate about it and try to get her involved (slowly), but never make her feel like your interest or hobby or passion is her competition. This should be clear to her simply from the fact that you are trying to include her, but well, us girls pretty much hate ourselves and assume that you don’t really want to be around us that much. When you come home from a long day at work, and go straight to your mancave to play video games to unwind, she thinks you are avoiding her. Frankly, you might be, simply because we all need time alone, BUT make her feel noticed, appreciated and all purty before you disappear into your holodeck. Also, make sure that you help out with shit before disappearing. Help with dinner (hell, cook dinner), ask her about her day, tell her she looks fucking delicious in her ripped yoga pants, blah, blah, blah. You know, all that Oprah kinda shit. ALSO, if you take time to be with her for a bit, you might find that she would be up for doing something cool and geeky with you, but might need to wait until the kids are in bed or she properly bitches about her boss or gets a glass or 5 of wine in her system.
5. Never EVER, not in a million fucking years nor in any fucking galaxy, EVER make her feel stupid about her attempts. So, hopefully, eventually, she will try some geek activities with you. BUT if/when she does, she isn’t going to “get it” like you do. She might not be awesome at fishing at first, she might not grasp the concept of carburetion versus fuel injection, and the idea of time travel might really piss her off. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T roll your eyes, DON’T tell her she’s doing it wrong (even if she is, and she will), DON’T make big sighs of frustration, DON’Tlaugh at her, and DON’T say “Oh well, not everyone gets it” and then look sad. I don’t give a flying piece of fuck how bad she is at this, how much she doesn’t understand the Force, or how much she asks dumb questions about alternate dimensions (FYI; there is no dumb question about alternate dimensions….there’s just so much we don’t know), do NOT make her feel stupid. If you do, she will never try it again, she will probably work harder to get YOU to stop doing it yourself, and IT WILL ALL BE YOUR FAULT! Because you are a dumb ass.
6. Please remember that she is not “one of the guys” (yet) and compliment the shit out of that girl. This is the flipside of don’t make her feel stupid. This is hard at first to remember, but she really isn’t one of the guys (yet), so don’t treat her like one (yet). Guys like to give each other shit, girls hate this. Seriously. It makes us cry and want to eat more chocolate. Instead, tell what she is doing right, if you need to give her instruction, do it in a way that makes her feel comfortable (like “oh, I see what you are doing wrong…I kept doing that all that time at first too.”), give her crazy amounts of kudos for doing it in the first place, etc. Once she gets more comfortable, then you might be able to tease her a bit more, but again, monitor her responses and apply the data.
7. Watch for signs of boredom. Seriously, if you got your hot wife to go do your thing with you and have, please,as soon as she gets bored, STOP! I cannot emphasize this enough. I cannot tell you how many times Aaron has gotten so excited about me fishing with him or watching Farscape him that he forgets that my threshold for boredom is much much sooner than his. TAKE HER HOME before it gets too late! (you might wanna feed her too, it helps with the irritability.) Boredom quickly turns into misery. And misery turns into never fucking doing that again. I’m not kidding about this. I despise ice fishing because of this. I actually enjoy it for about 2 hours and then we always stay until fucking spring so now I just simply hate it.
8. Provide snacks. Aaron and I always joke that I’ll do anything or go anywhere if there are nachos. This comes from years of Aaron saying, “hey, do you wanna go to a baseball game (which I hate)?” and me responding, “Will there be nachos?” I really like nachos. Find out what your hot goddess likes and use it. This is bribery at its best.
9. Don’t give her crap about how she wants to spend her own time and her money. Guess what? You spend money on hobbies too. You spend time killing zombies when you should be mowing the lawn. Get over it. Let her go get her nails done, or shop all day, plant flowers in the garden, go to the opera even though everyone knows Juliet dies in the end (spoiler alert..so does Romeo.), or sit in the hammock reading Agatha Christie novels even though she has read each of them like 13 times. Ever heard of Pinterest? Apparently, it’s a thing. Let her do it and don’t make fun of the fact that none of us really know what it does or how to say it.
10. If she doesn’t geekify to the extreme you would love her to geekify, love her anyway. C’mon, really, being able to share some interests and hobbies and have some fun together is really awesome. It’s all kinds of lovely fertilizer for gooey feelings of love. BUT, they don’t have to be all the same things and all the time. Each individual in a couple is just that, an individual. Love her for that sexy individuality. Compliment the heck out of what you love, and deal with what you don’t love quite as much. Trust me, she’s doing the same thing for you.
I know there’s probably more, but I need to race home and finish up Season 6 of Buffy.
I’m downright restless. I can even feel it in my body. I wake up in the night with a start and a yell because my legs are literally kicking and thrashing. I’m constantly running, either to or from something, in my nightmares, and then I wake up to discover, my body is literally running. But I can’t figure out what I am running from. I mean, in the dreams, I am running from zombies, strange men dressed in black and chainmail on horses, unknown unseen assailants that I can just sense are closing on me, and the weirdest one yet, was running from poplar trees (or maybe aspen…couldn’t tell for sure) who would bend and twist in these contorted ways to try to grab me and hold me back. In the dreams, I am not only running away from there, but I am also trying to get somewhere. Somewhere important, where someone is urgently waiting for me. And I don’t know what I am supposed to take with me! I often dream that I forgot something important at the beginning of my journey or that I lost it somewhere along the way. Oh! And this dream I hate even more…..that I have a whole pile of stuff that I am supposed to take with me, but I can’t find a way to carry it. Sometimes then I actually find something….a bag, a basket, etc. but then it keeps breaking. Like, are you fucking kidding me!? Another re-occuring theme is that I encounter a group of orphans in the woods, or trapped in a warehouse and it becomes obvious that it is my responsibility to rescue them, get them somewhere safe, BUT those assailants behind us are now trying to get them too. And I still can’t figure out where the hell I am supposed to be going.
I’ve had these types of dreams most of my life, but lately, there are vivid and disturbing again. When I wake up, the unknown chasers are gone, but the sense of urgency remains. The restlessness lingers. The inner need to be prepared for whatever might be next. But I still don’t know where I am supposed to be going. I guess I’ll just keep running.
Confidence is like a muscle. You have to build it up slowly. Do things daily to strengthen and practice. Watch how others do it, but know that you might do it a little differently than them, keep training, and don’t get too discouraged when progress is slow. Stretch yourself slowly, but don’t push it too hard. Understand that it might even hurt a little at first. But keep at it. And give yourself credit when you make even the tiniest bit of progress. It will get easier, but it is still just really really hard. But don’t quit. Ever. You owe it to you.
I’ve never in my life read something that describes me so well. I feel like this writer creeped into my head while i was sleeping and sucked out my innermost thoughts.
Like many categorizing systems, the separatist thinking behind them attempts to firmly place us in one container or another. The flaw in these types of systems is that they don’t always take into account the middle areas of the spectrum. And any system is just that: a spectrum. I’ve long stated with unequivocal certainty that I’m introverted. My friends, however, look at me askance, because I’m actually very fun-loving and outgoing when I need to be. So on that introvert/extravert spectrum, I fall somewhere to the introverted side, but exhibit limited extroverted tendencies. Here is an article found on Thought Catalog by Brianna West that I have updated to reflect this:
1. You’re not anti-social, you’re selectively social. It’s not that you don’t like going out, it’s that you are very choosy about when, where, and for how long.
2. At any given point, you have one (maybe two)…
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You didn’t really think I was gonna be vulnerable about my struggles with The Sludge of the Soul without letting you follow me on my journey out of this darkness, did you? I admitted openly and publicly that I am depressed. I am dealing, once again, with some real darkness lately and I told you about it. It was insanely hard to talk about it. To admit my weakness. But. Here’s the thing. Telling you all my struggles was also insanely helpful. It was taking a step in the right direction. Sure, telling others your struggle is a really good way of unexpectedly finding out you aren’t alone, but it’s more this……. Saying something out loud has power. Naming something gives it definition… and limits. I’m not sure why but I’ve found it to be true. Shame is in secrets. Fear grows in the dark places. When something is no longer a secret, it doesn’t have the same weird twisted power over you. Depression has a way of growing in your mind. The darkness morphs those unknown shapes and shadows into something sinister and warped. As Hermoine Granger reminded us frequently, “fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself.” The weird messages of unworthiness and hopelessness that are oh so loud in your head frankly sound kinda lame when you say them out loud. You might get positive feedback from others. You might not. But you still took the power over it. You said it out loud. Now the magic can happen.
Last night I found an amazing deal on a black leather armchair and ottoman while I was getting groceries. Since I’ve been cleaning out my home office trying to turn it into a coffee drinking, writing, bill paying, reading, wine sipping haven, the timing was perfect. Except that I was still getting groceries…and LOTS of groceries. And my back has been spasming all day. But, still, must have. So, after I finished loading my cart, packed full and with tortilla chips piled high on the top, I then stopped and grabbed the flatbed with my new find from the greeter and went to check out. It took a couple tries on the first corner, but I quickly figured out how to push my heavy grocery cart ahead of me with my left arm (and hip) and pull the flatbed behind me with my right. I even easily lifted the chair so the cashier could scan it along with oodles of soup, cookies, and apples. And wine. Oodles of wine. Then, of course, the cashier offered to find someone to assist me with my large purchase to my car. I said “nah, I got this.” After I checked out, he offered again. Nope, I’m good. In fact, I’m downright proud of myself for negotiating these turns. As I’m leaving, more offers of help. Then of course, as I’m trying to get turned to actually go through the doors with my giant caravan, I turned down one final offer of help. And he wouldn’t listen to me. Despite my insistence that I really got it, he took over on the flatbed. Then he refused to leave me alone until he was assured that he could get it safely packed into my car for me. Not gonna lie. I was kinda annoyed. But I also had to admit, it was really helpful.
Then I got thinking, why in the world am I always so damned determined NOT to ask for help. And then to NOT accept help even when offered. Repeatedly. Sure, sometimes I just want it done my way and don’t wanna have to explain HOW to do it my way. I sometimes assume that others simply can’t do it was well as I can. I’m always a little afraid that others will let me down if I count on their help. Those are downfalls of being a control freak. But really, truthfully, I think more often than not, I simply don’t wanna be a bother. I don’t wanna to be viewed as a burden. And I, for sure, don’t ever wanna be perceived as weak or vulnerable. My determination of doing it myself is like my own way of apologizing for my existence, for my audacity at taking up too much space in the world. I’m starting to think that is just kinda dumb. Because sometimes my back hurts and maybe I should let someone else do the heavy lifting.