Saturday, March 20, 2004
Girls' Night and Seinfeld
George on Seinfeld is muttering about parking in a garage, how it's like paying for a prostitute. This is the one where he parallel parks but someone else tries to park head-in.
Sort of like girls' night. Everyone has their own method of doing something. George favors the parallel method, and the other guy favors head-in.
Girls' night -- I favor drink-drink-drink, eat-eat-eat, watch bad movies and comment on them. Other people favor sipping their wine while deconstructing other female friends or husbands or boyfriends.
Deconstructing other female friends is par for the course. I do, however, have a hard time deconstructing men (husbands/boyfriends) because mine is wonderful.
I had this same experience at a work happy hour this week. I went, because I enjoy my workplace and want to develop good relationships with my coworkers. As I got there, I was chatting with some of the other women about how cold the bar was. One said, "Last week it was fine in here. It's just like men -- one week they're fine, the next they screw you."
What am I, six weeks married, to say about that? Thankfully another coworker intervened, pointing to me and saying, "Not her. She's got a good one." But you'd hope that the wedding ring would tip people off.
Or maybe not. Lots of people who wear rings are unhappily married. Still, my perspective is that you can bitch about how rotten "all" men are if you're in friendly company. When you're around unknown variables (new coworkers, friends of friends, wives/girlfriends of friends, etc.), screaming your grievances -- or just muttering them -- may not be totally wise.
This leads to another annoyance I have.
It's the married thing. Some people have nothing but congratulations for us: "How wonderful! How long have you been married? How do you like married life?"
Others project...something...onto me: "Are you still on the honeymoon? Just wait, it all changes."
I actually resent that strangers -- or mere acquaintances -- presume to know enough about my relationship to qualify it. To pass judgment on it. To predict its demise -- or downfall, at least.
I work hard at my relationship -- not to make it "work" or to make it "perfect" but to recognize and adapt myself to the new demands and constraints of living every day with someone who I'll spend every other day of my life living with. And when perfect strangers, or coworkers, suggest that I just don't know enough about myself or my husband and that things will deteriorate rapidly, I get pissed.
I love my husband and he loves me. But we both know that love doesn't make the world go round. Respect figures prominently, as does care -- as does, yes, hard work. None of them preclude the others. A marriage is full of all them. Love, respect, care, and some work -- the kind of work that requires an individual to exercise respect, care, and love for someone else.
Marriage is the best thing that's happened to me; I adore my husband and he adores me. Respect the integrity of my marriage, and I'll respect you.
Sort of like girls' night. Everyone has their own method of doing something. George favors the parallel method, and the other guy favors head-in.
Girls' night -- I favor drink-drink-drink, eat-eat-eat, watch bad movies and comment on them. Other people favor sipping their wine while deconstructing other female friends or husbands or boyfriends.
Deconstructing other female friends is par for the course. I do, however, have a hard time deconstructing men (husbands/boyfriends) because mine is wonderful.
I had this same experience at a work happy hour this week. I went, because I enjoy my workplace and want to develop good relationships with my coworkers. As I got there, I was chatting with some of the other women about how cold the bar was. One said, "Last week it was fine in here. It's just like men -- one week they're fine, the next they screw you."
What am I, six weeks married, to say about that? Thankfully another coworker intervened, pointing to me and saying, "Not her. She's got a good one." But you'd hope that the wedding ring would tip people off.
Or maybe not. Lots of people who wear rings are unhappily married. Still, my perspective is that you can bitch about how rotten "all" men are if you're in friendly company. When you're around unknown variables (new coworkers, friends of friends, wives/girlfriends of friends, etc.), screaming your grievances -- or just muttering them -- may not be totally wise.
This leads to another annoyance I have.
It's the married thing. Some people have nothing but congratulations for us: "How wonderful! How long have you been married? How do you like married life?"
Others project...something...onto me: "Are you still on the honeymoon? Just wait, it all changes."
I actually resent that strangers -- or mere acquaintances -- presume to know enough about my relationship to qualify it. To pass judgment on it. To predict its demise -- or downfall, at least.
I work hard at my relationship -- not to make it "work" or to make it "perfect" but to recognize and adapt myself to the new demands and constraints of living every day with someone who I'll spend every other day of my life living with. And when perfect strangers, or coworkers, suggest that I just don't know enough about myself or my husband and that things will deteriorate rapidly, I get pissed.
I love my husband and he loves me. But we both know that love doesn't make the world go round. Respect figures prominently, as does care -- as does, yes, hard work. None of them preclude the others. A marriage is full of all them. Love, respect, care, and some work -- the kind of work that requires an individual to exercise respect, care, and love for someone else.
Marriage is the best thing that's happened to me; I adore my husband and he adores me. Respect the integrity of my marriage, and I'll respect you.
