Fooooood...
Nov. 16th, 2004 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kukla_tkoLet me talk about my SO for a little bit.
He's brilliant. Really, he is. Setting aside the degrees, the training, the clever things he taught himself and his appetite for reading; he's a genius. He has a strong, full, active vocabulary.
Long, long before I fell in love with him I admired him.
Ok, you're saying, but book smart doesn't mean that he has common sense.
Actually, he's wise, too. And domestic. He's our (cast) Iron Chef. He's a GOD of the kitchen realm. He's someone who understands the tao of cooking. He's a wonder to watch, particularly since his whole philosophy is to clean up as you go. He cooks a big meal and then there aren't dishes to do afterward, except for the serving dishes and personal eat-ware. He does laundry. He sorts clothes, checks lables and when in doubt he asks me questions.
It's impossible for me to play that girlfriend game with my acquaintances. You know the one where girls start grousing about the men in their lives? (Ok, only my "acquaintances" play this game; none of my FRIENDS do.) Here's an example:
Shirley: Oh, my GHOD. I can't believe he did this.
Marge: What is it, honey? Did he shrink your favorite skirt?
Gabby: Well, at least he does laundry. My husband can't tell the washer from the dryer!
Shirley: Why is it that they can wash the car every weekend, but can't manage to wash their own clothes without help?
Marge: OMG, Men are such BABIES!
Ok. I want to make it clear that I HATE this kind of crap. It drives me right up the wall, but particularly at work I end up having to add something or be thought of as a bitch, or a snob, or that weird chick. (Ok, I am ALWAYS the weird chick...) So, after years of screwing this up by suggesting that "Marge" ask her husband for what she wants, or state clearly what she prefers, I found that I had to come up with a "stupid SO" story.
Except that I don't HAVE any. Men always look stupid to CRAZY women, and more than half of the women in this country are CRAZY.
Here's the other way I screw up this twisted little game. Add to the above conversation:
ME: Yeah. My boyfriend hasn't done the laundry all week.
Shirley: Oh, yeah. And I bet the last load he did was a load of his own socks, right?
ME: Uh, no, actually. He did ALL the laundry last week since I was working both jobs.
Marge: He does laundry? You have to sort it for him, though, right?
ME: Nope, not at all. He sorts, washes, dries and folds the laundry.
Gabby: Yeah, my ex did laundry, too. But ask him to wash ONE dish...
GIRLS: (LOL)
ME: Actually, he does dishes, too. Especially when he cooks.
Girls: (Angry looks)
See, I figured it out eventually. This is some kind of creepy bonding ceremony that women do to one another. It's an US/THEM concept that I have never really bought into. Men aren't from Mars, women aren't from Venus. But we are cloistered away from one another and taught all the myths and fallacies about the "OTHERS" and in our relationships we act on this misinformation. It's everywhere, in popular culture too.
So, in order to seem like "one of the girls" I keep a few of my SO's foibles tucked away. I told him all about this and told him that I did not expect him to change these foibles, since he needed to have human flaws or no one would believe he existed. (Really. At one point I had a heart to heart with my mom about a heated discussion that my SO and I had, and she burst out laughing and told me that she was so RELIEVED that he turned out to be human. I didn't think it was funny, but she said that he was too good to be true, and was vaguely worried that there was NOTHING wrong with him... My mother is pretty weird, too.)
Here are the big two:
He does laundry. Sorts, folds, hangs up. However... he does seem to be perfectly content to live out of the baskets in the basement. He won't bring laundry upstairs unless I specifically ask him. (Which I only do when my back is bothering me.)
Grocery shopping. He's just not any good at this. I realize that it is a skill that has to be honed with practice, but I can't even give him a list and expect to get what I need.
See, today I went grocery shopping. I haven't been grocery shopping in weeks. Probably months, since I don't think I went shopping the whole time I worked at Spirit. We've been relying on my SO's ability to keep the pantry stocked.
I went to ALDI, and spent an obscene amount of money and turned my huge cart into a clown car. (No, really. The cashier couldn't get it all back into the cart when she was done.)
Why did I spend that kind of money?
Because our cupboards were BARE. We even lacked the components to MAKE food.
And if I had gone to any of the big name grocery stores, I would have spent about $300. I didn't spend anywhere NEAR that amount. And now we have food. Canned food, frozen food. The pantry, refrigerator, and freezer are FULL. We can now feed the 5+ people who eat here on a regular basis.
And I feel SO much better. I think I will go and clean the house some more...
He's brilliant. Really, he is. Setting aside the degrees, the training, the clever things he taught himself and his appetite for reading; he's a genius. He has a strong, full, active vocabulary.
Long, long before I fell in love with him I admired him.
Ok, you're saying, but book smart doesn't mean that he has common sense.
Actually, he's wise, too. And domestic. He's our (cast) Iron Chef. He's a GOD of the kitchen realm. He's someone who understands the tao of cooking. He's a wonder to watch, particularly since his whole philosophy is to clean up as you go. He cooks a big meal and then there aren't dishes to do afterward, except for the serving dishes and personal eat-ware. He does laundry. He sorts clothes, checks lables and when in doubt he asks me questions.
It's impossible for me to play that girlfriend game with my acquaintances. You know the one where girls start grousing about the men in their lives? (Ok, only my "acquaintances" play this game; none of my FRIENDS do.) Here's an example:
Shirley: Oh, my GHOD. I can't believe he did this.
Marge: What is it, honey? Did he shrink your favorite skirt?
Gabby: Well, at least he does laundry. My husband can't tell the washer from the dryer!
Shirley: Why is it that they can wash the car every weekend, but can't manage to wash their own clothes without help?
Marge: OMG, Men are such BABIES!
Ok. I want to make it clear that I HATE this kind of crap. It drives me right up the wall, but particularly at work I end up having to add something or be thought of as a bitch, or a snob, or that weird chick. (Ok, I am ALWAYS the weird chick...) So, after years of screwing this up by suggesting that "Marge" ask her husband for what she wants, or state clearly what she prefers, I found that I had to come up with a "stupid SO" story.
Except that I don't HAVE any. Men always look stupid to CRAZY women, and more than half of the women in this country are CRAZY.
Here's the other way I screw up this twisted little game. Add to the above conversation:
ME: Yeah. My boyfriend hasn't done the laundry all week.
Shirley: Oh, yeah. And I bet the last load he did was a load of his own socks, right?
ME: Uh, no, actually. He did ALL the laundry last week since I was working both jobs.
Marge: He does laundry? You have to sort it for him, though, right?
ME: Nope, not at all. He sorts, washes, dries and folds the laundry.
Gabby: Yeah, my ex did laundry, too. But ask him to wash ONE dish...
GIRLS: (LOL)
ME: Actually, he does dishes, too. Especially when he cooks.
Girls: (Angry looks)
See, I figured it out eventually. This is some kind of creepy bonding ceremony that women do to one another. It's an US/THEM concept that I have never really bought into. Men aren't from Mars, women aren't from Venus. But we are cloistered away from one another and taught all the myths and fallacies about the "OTHERS" and in our relationships we act on this misinformation. It's everywhere, in popular culture too.
So, in order to seem like "one of the girls" I keep a few of my SO's foibles tucked away. I told him all about this and told him that I did not expect him to change these foibles, since he needed to have human flaws or no one would believe he existed. (Really. At one point I had a heart to heart with my mom about a heated discussion that my SO and I had, and she burst out laughing and told me that she was so RELIEVED that he turned out to be human. I didn't think it was funny, but she said that he was too good to be true, and was vaguely worried that there was NOTHING wrong with him... My mother is pretty weird, too.)
Here are the big two:
He does laundry. Sorts, folds, hangs up. However... he does seem to be perfectly content to live out of the baskets in the basement. He won't bring laundry upstairs unless I specifically ask him. (Which I only do when my back is bothering me.)
Grocery shopping. He's just not any good at this. I realize that it is a skill that has to be honed with practice, but I can't even give him a list and expect to get what I need.
See, today I went grocery shopping. I haven't been grocery shopping in weeks. Probably months, since I don't think I went shopping the whole time I worked at Spirit. We've been relying on my SO's ability to keep the pantry stocked.
I went to ALDI, and spent an obscene amount of money and turned my huge cart into a clown car. (No, really. The cashier couldn't get it all back into the cart when she was done.)
Why did I spend that kind of money?
Because our cupboards were BARE. We even lacked the components to MAKE food.
And if I had gone to any of the big name grocery stores, I would have spent about $300. I didn't spend anywhere NEAR that amount. And now we have food. Canned food, frozen food. The pantry, refrigerator, and freezer are FULL. We can now feed the 5+ people who eat here on a regular basis.
And I feel SO much better. I think I will go and clean the house some more...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
your SO
Date: 2004-11-17 03:21 am (UTC)Having full cupboards is so nice. I've finally gotten my pantry together and it's pretty cool. I've even had a chance to get some pretty wild ingredients from places out of town. (Although my SO probably thinks I'm nuts.)
For example we have at least 10 different kinds of salt, 4 different kinds of butter etc. I may have to find a food shopper anonymous.
I figure I must be pretty weird because I see you and your mom as fairly normal.
Food is a necessity so don't feel bad about spending some money there and you got a deal if you went to Aldi's. I miss STL grocery stores. The grocery stores out here are boring and have lousy produce.
It's so cool that you have someone in your live that bring sunshine, love and joy. And he's a great person on top of all that. Life is good.
Re: your SO
Date: 2004-11-17 09:17 pm (UTC)He is wonderful, isn't he? He gets annoyed sometimes when I make him the poster child for good men, but dammit, he's a GOOD MAN!
And a great dad, too.
Sorry to hear that the grocery stores out there suck. Maybe you should dig up a farmer's market? Do they have such things out there? (It's a midwest staple.)
Perhaps for christmas, we can send you a big box of fresh produce?
:)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-17 07:27 am (UTC)We do better now.
Gee, THAT looks good..
Date: 2004-11-17 09:44 pm (UTC)Yesterday I did shop while hungry, but I resisted "impulse buying." Not many snacks or anything. Just "real food" and "Meals". We were OUT of food, man!
And ALDI is the nicest of the "bargain basement" stores. Save-a-Lot and Food For Less are both seedy and vaguely creepy. Aldi is an international grocery chain, owned by GERMANS. THis means that it is thrifty without sacreficing quality. I love it there, I tried to get hired there, you may recall. (I was looking for an out from the SALT MINES at the time.) It also means that their chocolate is imported from... Germany. Or Belgium. Mmm. And cheaper than generic American chocolate. No bad there...
I <3 Aldi, lots.
Mmmm.
I only shop elsewhere when I need something specific that Aldi doesn't carry. (Fresh cuts of Meat come to mind.)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-17 09:58 pm (UTC)It doesn't piss me off any less. See, I could never see the benefit of running down one's significant other. Yeah, it's a version of "Ain't It Awful", but it also reinforces the "us/them" mentality that keeps women and men from understanding one another.
I have taken multiple tests. I am not autistic, I don't have Asperger's.
I just can't relate to people who play games like this. I like other bonding activities, and what's more, I don't usually want to "bond" with my co-workers. (See the "Weird Chick" reference.)
Perhaps it's my father seeping through after all. He never could suffer fools, or foolish behavior.
In my head, it's still insulting one's SO. It doesn't matter that you are "just kidding" or "just bonding" or whatever. Perhaps my long history of being the one everyone picked on makes me more sensitive to this kind of crap. Perhaps it is the fact that I wasn't raised to think of "men" as a "Them."
Or perhaps I decided long ago not to be one of the girls.
It may be related to my years of counseling during my childhood and adolescence, because I broke a tie to the human race; I removed the handle that lets people like that control me. I severed the puppet strings of peer pressure. Not ALL of them, but when a group of women start to act like Middle school girls, I immediately feel scorn and derision, and rather than show these things overtly, I just shut the hell up and go away. It was very liberating to realize that it didn't have to matter to me what those people think of me. I also figured out (through fandom, etc) that I didn't have to make friends with the people I was surrounded with; I could go out and find people I actually LIKED to be with. I run into people all the time who don't HAVE any friends outside of work or school or whatever.
Except that in the real world, not having allies or being the strange one gets you FIRED from office jobs. No one hires or fires you based upon your actual work. All of that is determined by how well you get along with your coworkers.
(Shudder.)
Looks like Jackman's is a good place for me, though. I might NOT be the weirdest chick there. I certainly am the most valuable, and they aren't afraid to tell me that. It is filled to the gills with women who work a couple of days a week to reap the benefits of employee discount and whatnot, because they are creative people who love to sew, or craft, or whatever.
And there are other costumers. And friends I like and trust who already work there. (one of them already knows intimately just HOW weird I am.)
And I haven't seen any middle school games yet. (I know, I will. I just hope that I can find OTHER things to bond with people over.)
Sorry, had to post to this one.
Date: 2004-11-23 05:12 am (UTC)1: Young people of today have it way too good. When I was a lad...
Well you know the rest of this one. It degenerates into someone who lived in the middle of the road in a shoe box, whose father murdered them in their sleep every morning, got fed cold poison for dinner and LIKED it. And if you try to tell that to the young people of today, they won't believe you.
But this game is a classic one. It has several variations.
1) The spouse or sig other. (She/He did what? that is just wrong!)
2) The Job. (another misery loves company one. See whose job is worse. Mini Doc wins.)
3) The family. Especially the In-Laws.
4) Traffic.... (And then this jerk tries to cut me off. and the Bridge, let me tell you...)
5) Ailments (you know this one time at the hospital they had to take out a gall stone that was the size of a...)
There are lots of "misery loves company" games. And these are only the few I can come up with off the top of my head.