Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Bad boys and a few good men.

Disclaimer: This post might be girlier than usual. So not apologetic about it though. Simply warning.



Women are weird weird complicated creatures. And I pity all the men (and some other women) who have to spend their lives deciphering this eternal mysterious code.

But calling it a code is a bit warped to begin with, isn’t it? It gives the impression that there is some underlying logic to what we do, something complex, but crack-able, no? But what if there is absolutely no code? What if we just are, random?

Let’s take the simplest and most comprehensive example. Our choice in men.

Oh wait. There’s nothing simple about that.

So here’s a discussion between me and A recently about the omnipresent Game of Thrones.

Me: Oh my god, I can’t believe Jaime went back to save her!
A: See, I told you you’ll have a change of heart about him by the end of this season.
Me: Hmm. Wait. What?
A: He’s turned nice.
Me: But I liked him bad!

And that, dear friends, is the issue.

Be it Jaime Lannister, or Lost’s Sawyer (by the way, don’t they look uncannily similar?!?), McSteamy or even The Mummy’s Mummy, they’re weirdly hotter than the Rob Starks, Doctors, McDreamys and Mummy Slayers, aren’t they? Well, maybe my examples are a bit warped, but seriously, why did Olivia Newton John fall for the bad bad T Bird John Travolta in the original high school chick flick (Grease people, seriously, go watch some movies that originated before Die Hard! Or at least watch it to see John Travolta sing and dance)?

Okay fine. Why was Tom Cruise so hot in Top Gun? Or Val Kilmer in The Saint? Or Robert Downey Jr. in well, all his movies?!

Because they’re intrinsically screwed up and bad.

And the thought of being the one thing in the world that a Bad Boy turns good for, is somehow the sexiest thing in the world.

At least on paper.

In reality, it’s plain stupid.

And we should hit all the writers on their heads who don’t really get that. Why the hell did Carrie Bradshaw choose Big over Eiden? The guy who made her cry ALL the time, over the guy who was ready to give her the world?

Why did Blaire Waldorf choose the guy who sold her in exchange of a building, left her stranded at the airport (even if it was next to his private jet) before a vacation, over, well, a well mannered Prince?

Because they’re stupid y’all.

Good guys are difficult to come by. Very very difficult. And the worst part is, we don’t take them seriously when they do. Because, wait, you’ll actually make me your highest priority?! Over your bike, car and ego? Unreal.

What?? You’ll pick me up? Go away you anti-feminist.

You’ll actually understand my need for a career? Even think of leaving your life behind for me? Stop lying to get into my pants.

Respect? You respect me?? Seriously?

Oh, but that guy, that guy will treat me like shit and not be respectful, and for him, I’ll turn into a psycho stalker and pledge my life.

Screwed up, we are, at times.

Or. We grow up. And realize just how lucky we are.

And learn what happiness really is.

Finally.



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