The Nice Guy Myth

Just got home from a friend’s birthday drinks- it was a nice, good type of boring night. I was feeling rather tired, but overall they’re not the type of people who require much effort to converse with, which is a blessing you can’t take for granted. A good percentage of us knew each other (in some instances very vaguely) in high school- and I was thinking tonight how lovely it was to see how much we’ve changed- how grown up we are, at the same time that we’re still just as ridiculous and immature and fun as we ever were. For the first time in a while, today I finally felt as if I’m getting freedom, and not just uncertainty about my future, or a feeling of dread that I’m being frogmarched into banality. I felt even better after I read someone else’s awesome email (thanks dude) from a person who has gone through all this crap already, which essentially said- live your life, fuck all the worrying, and the excessive planning for the future that might stop you from doing that, without all the sentimental crap ala ‘dance like nobody’s watching’.

There is something I’d like to complain about though- and that is the nice guy myth. TV shows and movies absolutely LOVE the cliche with the nice guy best friend, hanging around with a beautiful girl who only dates arseholes, until one day… she finally sees the light and they get together. Aw, it’s so sweet and lovely, right? Alternatively we have the nice guy who only wants the beautiful girl who is a total bitch and treats him badly until one day HE sees the light and turns to his supposedly less attractive, but much more lovely in personality, overlooked female best friend. I find this latter version more palatable, because at least in this version the guy stops being such a spineless shit, and moves on after realising what an idiot he’s been.

So Sunday morning B and I were lying in her bed chatting and waiting for the alarm to go off so she could go get ready for work, and an ex came up in the conversation- a true, blue chip nice guy. If he were less of a nice guy, would he have lasted the distance we wondered? Conclusion? No. Because frankly, the more I think about it, the more this “nice guys finish last” adage seems like utter bullshit. See this entry from Jezebel which helped kickstart this thought process.

If you don’t want to click- the gist of the piece is a letter from some douche complaining to a female friend from 15 years ago about how she didn’t know how much of a good thing she had in him. He then claims that she MADE him into the kind of arsehole she was so fond of dating back in the day. Bull, fucking shit. The best bit is when he says “You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind”.

I’m sorry what?! These guys are so full of it. So because he was a “nice guy”, a good friend who was supposedly “used” for “emotional intimacy”, she OWED him ‘physical intimacy’ in return?! Because offering friendship with someone implies some kind of debt, clearly. Should we all just set up a balance sheet and see who owes who more in the friendship stakes?

It is also an incredibly arrogant thing to claim: ‘I’m such a good person, and you never chose me- you’re the arsehole’. There’s so much non-existent entitlement implied. Too whit- being “nice” does not make up for stuff like lacking a personality, a sense of humour, the ability to be self-derisive, confidence and humility. Being too good of a person to be loved and appreciated is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.

Also, nice guy/person or not, if you’re in a relationship romantic or otherwise where the like balance is completely out of whack- i.e. one person is far more adoring than the other, then you’ve got to expect that the results may not be pretty. It’s human nature- no matter how good a person you are, if someone is sticking around giving you lovesick looks and saying they’ll doing anything for you- you’re gonna let them, because it’s easy, and sometimes it seems harmless. From the person who is taking, it doesn’t necessarily occur to them that they “owe” you something. You can’t really be that bitter when you’re asking to be trodden over. Harsh, maybe, but I honestly reckon that in any decent friendship/relationship you’ve got to know how to take as intelligently as you give.

The truth of the matter is, if you’re truly a “nice guy” you don’t need these kind of excuses. The guys I know are in the main, neither “nice guys” or “bad guys”, merely “guys”. However, the truly nice guys that I’ve met, regardless of their romantic experiences, good or bad, are STILL nice guys, not closet misogynists looking for an excuse to cover up their own patheticness.

Honestly, I think the adage should be changed to “nice guys who are boring and fawn excessively, and believe this entitles them to get laid, finish last”.

Note: I don’t mean to imply B’s ex is no longer a nice guy- apparently he is still as lovely a person as ever.

In honour of this post I am putting up a clip of Some Kind of Wonderful (thereby also continuing my 80s movies project) which is basically nice-guy has a crush on the pretty popular girl, until he realises he really likes his tomboy best friend. This version of the nice guy story line is pretty awesome because

1) supposedly Some Kind of Wonderful is meant to be an anathema to Pretty in Pink, in which Molly Ringwald ends up with the annoying, spineless Andrew McCarthy, when she was originally written to end up with Ducky (that dude from Three and Half Men who is not the kid, or Charlie Sheen). Apparently Ringwald made and fuss, and Hughes was forced to change the ending- and so he decided to swap genders and do the whole thing again sans Ringwald.

2) This is one of the few movies that Eric Stoltz is actually kind of hot (ok, almost hot). Hey- did you guys know that Stoltz was cast as Marty in Back to the Future because Michael J. Fox’s schedule couldn’t allow him to take the role initially… except that after a couple of weeks, the producers were like “this is not going to work out” and fired him? Ouch, that would have hurt. A lot.

3) Molly Ringwald isn’t in it with a shitty dress made out of two perfectly lovely dresses that she decided to cut up for no fucking good reason. That fugly dress still makes me angry.

4) Because Mary Stuart Masterson is so darn cute.

5) Because Stoltz smartens up quick enough not to be a fawning idiot the entire time.

6) Because Lea Thompson’s character is neither total bitch, or sweet angel.

Hoarse

Fuck me. I woke up this morning and tried to speak, but couldn’t. I haven’t lost my voice per se, but it’s definitely on the husky side, and I can’t speak loudly. My neck is also a little sore, and my hair is gritty with dirt. In a sentence: Daft Punk last night.

I’m not even going to bother explaining- it was just so much fun. Although, my neck and voice, or lack thereof tell me perhaps I was a tad on the exuberant side. Not as exuberant as a certain person I could name though. Ended up converging with a few groups of people, one of which is an ex-workmate. Which is what this post is really about.

This person, let’s call him David, has really never been of interest to me until recently. When I used to work with him, we would cross paths in the break room, and that was about the extent of our interaction. More recently, a friend of mine became pretty good friends with him, and went through a rather, shall we say, infatuated stage with him, which is about the time I started to wonder what it was about him that other females were so attracted to. When I finally met up with him again, one of the first things he said to me after we did the “how are you, what are you up to” etc. was how it was hard for him finding a committed relationship. He said it with utter sincerity, not whiny, not self-indulgent, but with confidence, as if it were their fault they had not committed to him- he who was so willing to open his heart. It was all I could do to not burst out laughing. Although we’d had virtually no contact in the past, and to date, we still don’t/haven’t- if there is one thing I know about him, is that the boy’s a player. After that, I finally got it- he’s a charmer. Quite seriously he is the most charming guy I’ve ever met, in the sense that it’s such an easy charm, an all encompassing charm- disarming and friendly, confident, and non-threatening.

Truly, it’s hard to dislike him, because yes, he is so goddamn charming- but at the same time, I can’t say that I like him particularly. I’m a bit fascinated by what he is, but in terms of his personality, I don’t find him of interest. Which brings me to last night: among the myriad of a bit strange things that occurred, high on the list was the sudden stillness of people around me, who moments before were dancing like maniacs. I turned around trying to work out what was going on- from what I could gather (although I could be wrong, it was dark, and well, rather loud out there) David as a response to some perceived slight had just pissed in a cup and then tossed the contents at ’slighter’. Everyone in our group/s were a bit shocked at what had just happened, some giggled a bit, and then they continued dancing, with a bit of a “well, that’s David for you” type reaction. And that, my friends is David. From what I could tell, he proceeded to spend the rest of the night being by turns extremely friendly to us, and weirdly over aggressive to the strangers around us- whether it was warranted or not I’m not exactly sure- but then he was shall we say, off his head, but nonetheless well loved by everyone. Clearly, it pays to be charming.

God, now that I think about it, he reminds me loosely (very loosely) of my brother… Also, I can’t decide if I want to go out tonight or just have a quiet night in. Someone tell me what to do! I especially can’t decide, because I have this feeling that I’ve made two vague sets of plans, which would be fine, except I can’t remember what the second set is, thus unable to cancel vaguely. Helping me remember would help also. Cheers

Countdown

God, I am so contrary. As soon as I declare that I won’t do something, I instantly want to do it. Cue the desire to blog. I am also bored. Am sitting around at the moment waiting for my parents to come home for Jehsah, having laid the table out, brought out the booze, incense and candles, I have nothing left to do. I know my dad is going to laugh at my table laying efforts, because I always do it wrong. I put out all the food and arrange it to look pretty, but apparently there are ‘rules’ for what goes where, and I never remember them.

I also just want to state here and now, if I haven’t stated it before- my family is nuts. Truly freaking nuts. Even the more normal members of our family have a couple of sanity issues, which is mostly remarkable because from the outside, we would seem to be perfectly functional human beings, if a tad boisterous when we’re placed all together in a room. Which is why I’m approaching the next couple of months with caution:

All members of the family are undertaking a countdown- in exactly six weeks everybody will be in Australia. Both my sisters, their husbands, their daughters, and my brother will be back in the country for Chinese New Year, and I’ll be moving back home while they’re here. This is pretty darn exciting for us, as hanging out for the holidays in Melbourne has always been so much fun. I can’t tell you how much we look forward to this every year. It is even more exciting, because even though individually we’ve gone to visit each other, we haven’t ALL been together for a couple of years now, mainly due to the all the popping out of babies.

This is new territory however. We have never had four kids running around (all under the age of four mind you) at the same time. There are the usual problems involved- diapers, strollers, car seats (argh- two in each car- and we’ll definitely need to rent a car also), night time baths, night time bedding rituals, feeding schedules, eating preferences, volatile baby temperments, potty issues (there are ALWAYS potty issues, even the trained ones)- these are all manageable to a degree. But four all at once? If one kid wakes up crying in the middle of the night (not an unusual occurence) then you have potentially three others to deal with. Same goes for putting them to bed, having one of them wake up early in the morning- add to that the potential for them getting jealous of the others, having to share a limited amount of toys etc. and it’s a rather precarious situation. I’m telling you these are “good” kids, but the best of kids, are just that- kids. No matter how angelic they and good tempered they are- throw in the fact they’re in a new hectic environment with other children, and it’s a catalyst for disaster, especially in the heat.

And not only with the kids- have I mentioned that my family is crazy? This is the breeding ground for really bringing out the full nature of their nuttiness. I’m telling you. Fireworks are coming. Case in point, I was talking to one of my sister’s recently and she said:

“So Jenny, you do realise that Sis S and I going to have a huge blowup, it’s going to get really awkward, you’re going to be stuck in the middle, and then you’re going to sit there and judge us for the rest of trip. I’m just telling you, be prepared.”

To which I could only reply, “what makes you think I don’t judge you now?” If there is one thing I can say for my family, it’s that you can’t say that they’re not self aware…

Even so, I SO excited, I am literally counting the sleeps. Damn them, even with the crazy I love them to bits (it helps that they’re accompanied by the cutest children EVER).

Erm

I dunno. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to blog. It’s not that I have nothing to blog about- I honestly find myself writing bits of posts in my head when I’m doing lame things: while vacuuming, while driving, while at the supermarket. None of it particularly scintillating, all of it in my usual vein of blog whatever. I decide to tell you guys something or other about what’s going on in my life and then I start writing and I can’t be bothered. I just hopped on to start telling you about the red light I ran on Saturday night, and how I’m going to get a big fat fine in a couple of months and how annoyed I am, considering that it really was just the product of being extremely sleepy, and not a result of being a hoon- which is what it kind of looked like if you were behind me. Also the run on sentence above? I so don’t care. That’s how much I’m incapable of writing a proper post right now. Come back in a year or so (or you know, next week). I might have more for you. I warned you, you visit at your peril.

Edit: Oh wait, I do have one tiny thing to blog- mainly cos I was a teensy bit obsessed with it and it thus needs to be put in written form: When I first met my friend’s boyfriend ages ago he strangely reminded me of a younger version of this Russian guy I knew. Earlier this year however, suddenly I was talking to him and his voice completely mesmerised me. I spent about twenty minutes trying to figure out why it seemed to bug me, until I worked it out and blurted “Oh my god, you sound just like Johnny Depp, especially as that guy from Pirates!” After which there was a bit of an embarrassing silence. He was far too polite to disagree with me, but I also reckon he would be too modest to claim that he had any kind of affinity with Johnny Depp.

However, I’m telling you the Johnny-voice thing is slightly uncanny. This is also enhanced by the fact that he looks vaguely Johnny like- similar bone structure and colouring, plus he kind of sways a bit too (not as dramatically as the character though, obviously). I have since had to restrain myself calling him Johnny every time I see him.

However, I have finally been vindicated! Recently over dinner (we were eating vegetarian fish at the tea place on Swanston St, and it was really god damn decent- way better than the pork thing that my vego friend insisted I order so as not to ostensibly pander to her vegetarian tastes- fie on her though, because we just ended up sharing the “fish” anyway) I brought up the boyfriend/Johnny thing, and apparently I am one of many who sees the boy’s Deppesqueness. I can now lay this matter to rest. I’m not insane, obsessed with Johnny Depp, blind etc.

Not a purist

I just hopped onto the computer to write a quick post, but I got sidetracked by this.

I really really REALLY want one. Not available in Oz of course, but god damn it, I wish it was. And because I’m a geek, I just spent 20 minutes watching all the stupid ‘how great is this’ videos, wanting it more by the second.  I am only consoled by the knowledge that 1) I couldn’t afford it anyway, and 2) it probably still has a a lot of kinks to work out.

Magic Hands

Interesting Factoid: I have magic hands. This is absolutely true. Especially my thumbs, they are way magic.

I was trained from a very young age- not in magic per se, but in massage. My thumbs are strong and nimble like you would not believe. I can only assume Sister S trying to deal with a little sister who followed her around everywhere was trying to think of something to keep me occupied: “Hey Jenny, you know what would be fun? Giving me a massage!” Unfortunately I was too young and stupid to realise I should have deliberately been giving terrible massages, and I was soon being commanded to perform on cue to meet my sister’s needs. Sister S became hooked (natch), and she’d beg me “Please Jenny! I’ll give you ten dollars!” (for 45 minutes mind you- at the time it seemed like a lot of money…)

When I was older it was a bargaining chip “Leave me alone/let me go out/ buy me a t-shirt and I’ll give you massage”. Anyhow, I thought my massaging days were over, but no- a little over a year ago when both my sister’s got pregnant and me and my magic hands were conveniently around, once again my services were requested. Even more recently I’ve been giving my mum nightly massages of her legs, feet and hands because she’s been working hard and she’s been tired and achy. And what have I discovered? I can massage until kingdom come, these hands DO NOT GET TIRED.

Thus, I have decided- like Hayley and her Canadian Polar Bear handler/Postie aspirations, I believe I too have found my dream occupation: Masseuse. Ideally I talk to no one- they want silence, I’ll give them silence! I’ll speak in my soothing voice at the beginning and at the end to tell them to put their underpants back on, and I’ll listen to my ipod in between. My future.is.planned.out. you guys, PLANNED! Meanwhile, to put myself through massage school, I kinda need a well paying job for my new place, and say, you know, a bed.

Finally, I’ve been away from blogging/reading other people’s blogs cos my life is way exciting and busy: I’ve been abducted by aliens, I became so enamoured with my new fringe I couldn’t pull myself away from the mirror, I’ve been in Juvie, I’ve been shopping for facinators non stop, I’ve been sniffing glue, I’ve been sick cos I ate too many pretzels, I’ve been holed up in my house playing xbox, I flew to NY and Seoul in a day and returned, I’ve been hunting sparrows, I ate so many carrots I turned orange and had to be sequestered etc. Take your pick (hint- all of the above is true… except perhaps for the fascinator shopping- yech).

Finally finally- do you blog guys ever go “huh?” at your own blog stuff? I found an old post draft titled “I tell them everything, but I don’t tell them shit”- which I guess is relatively understandable within itself, except that the entire contents of the post was about my three favourite people- my brother, Sohi and Bel and why they entertain me- which I remember writing in a fit of pure rosy love.