Archive for July 11th, 2015

I’m not a catch, love and neither are you

The above brought to you, courtesy of E.

Okay. This pissed me off. It pissed me off a lot.

Let’s go with hypotheticals here, shall we?

Let’s say we’re looking for a reasonably attractive, reasonably fit, reasonably employed, reasonably decent man – what about this hypothetical man puts him out of our reach?

As I ended up shouting at E, stop listening to the fucking patriarchy.

She blinked at me and asked what the patriarchy had anything to do with it.

Oh girlfriend, what don’t they have to do with it?

Let’s set me aside for the moment because I’m standing in a weird place right now, but E is reasonably pretty, has tits and ass men would fall all over, has a job and is able to pay her share of the bills, can carry on an intelligent conversation on topics ranging from politics to biology to pop culture, has a compelling wit, has a decent sense of humor, and is capable of adulting in things like cooking, baking, canning, quilting, and knows how to do chores around the house.

What the hell is wrong with this world that a woman like her thinks that she’s not a good catch?

As for myself, I’m reasonably attractive (babies don’t cry at my face although the amount of double takes I get in Taiwan is truly non-plussing), reasonably fit (I might not be able to run a mile, but I can and did hike all the way up to the Sun Gate at Machu Picchu), I have fairly nice tits and ass as vouched for by Thene and her husband (hrm, that sounds kinda wrong. Oh well!), can speak two languages fluently, can speak a Chinese dialect enough to get by, can carry on intelligent conversations about most things not involving mathematical equations or quantum physics, and I know how to cook/bake/drive/change my own damn flat tire and certain other adulting things. I also have fairly good spelling and grammar skills and I’m not afraid to use them.

For those snickering, I’ll have you know that being able to spell and punctuate correctly on the internet is akin to not walking out of the house with your skirt hiked in your panties in real life.

I also throw a mean dinner party and I hands down win at tea parties.

What exactly is there about me that makes me a bad catch? Well, okay, the health issues and the lack of a paying job are kinda big deals, but seriously, I can charm and wit for my supper, can’t I? No, don’t answer that. It’s fine. Leave me out of this.

Look, as I said to E, if she were holding out for a billionaire with the looks of fill in the blank movie star, the body of a sex god, the endowment of a porn star, the brains of Stephen Hawking or fill in the blank favorite brainiac (I really like Neil deDrasse Tyson), and the ability to fuck a woman blind — sure, that’s the point where as a good friend I would have to step in and be all “oh honey”… but that’s not where we’re at.

And no, I’m not just bitter. I might be bitter, but I has logic as well, fellow internetters.

This has everything to do with the patriarchy.

We’re talking about a society that supports the myth of scarcity for women. Only so many good men to go around. Only so many good jobs for women. Only so many positions open on the Supreme Court bench for humans with a uterus and vagina.

A culture that doesn’t believe women can or should have it all. Academia that punishes women for getting married, corporations that penalizes women for having children, governments that believe women shouldn’t have control over their own damn fertility and whether they get saddled with an eighteen plus year responsibility, and a media that believes that we should be whores in the bedroom, leashed tigers in the boardroom, aces in the kitchen, handsy with a powertool, and still manage to be up for mother of the year awards after all that.

Yeah.

And oh yeah, I’m getting personal now.

A culture that is totally okay with men whose only contribution on T-day is yelling out game scores. One that looks askance at stay at home fathers and is perfectly okay with men who put the brunt of baby-raising on their wives. One that chuckles and says, “oh boys will be boys” about husbands who don’t do jack around the house except take out the trash and grudgingly at that. One that doesn’t see anything wrong with the idea of a pig-sty bachelor pad but would get all pearl-clutchy if a group of women were to have the same house with the same amount of disarray. One that slut-shames women who have more than a handful of sexual partners (and even that’s too many) but winks at men and their “prowess”. Yeah, about that prowess. How about instead of marking off the number of hot chicks a man has banged, we start tallying by orgasms given? And yeah, no, faked ones don’t count. One where the woman is expected to be the hostess, to be the one to prepare the hostess gift, to be the one to remember all the cards and phone calls over the holidays. Where the daughter is almost always the one taking care of the elderly parents.

If it is true that there are not enough good men to go around, which, hell, it might very well be true, then how is that not the fault of our society? Numerically, we shouldn’t be facing a shortage of men. If it is true that the good men are picky and look with disdain on normals such as E, then how isn’t it society’s indoctrination that teaches them that just being a decent adult and human being entitles them to much more than the average?

I abso-fucking-lutely refuse to believe that I don’t deserve a man who will put forth as much as I do into a relationship and who is average levels of attractive and fit. Just not gonna believe it because the day I buy into that Koolaid is the day I fucking jump off a bridge with both wrists slit up the street.

I’m not buying it, okay? Hands down, not buying it. And neither should you.