I’ve had a few spectacular geekouts on the O/p board over the years, however as this led to a few people learning of Firefly I think this probably counts as a good thing. Possibly worthy of a sainthood. Anyway, I am about to excel myself by doing what Douglas Coupland referred in Generation X as ‘Tele-Parablizing: Morals used in everyday life that derive from TV sitcom plots' - "That's just like the episode where Jan lost her glasses."
And that's every bit as bonkers as it sounds, because the following naval gazing was brought to you today thanks to The Guild And yes, I know that The Guild isn't a TV show. Generation X was published in 1991, times change, work with me here.
In The Guild there is a character called Tink, aka Tinkerballa aka April Lu. Tink’s a young woman who strolls through life, trading on her nubile pocket Princess proportions, and the fact that she is a rare commodity in her world, namely a hot gamer girl. Her basic MO is to lure in hapless men who want her to serve her every whim, use them, and then discard them. She embraces shallow as an art form, and likes to imply that if you scratched her surface – well actually if you scratched her surface she’d take your eyes out, but aside from that, she likes to imply that if you scratched her surface you’d find the hidden shallows of your most hollow imaginings.
As I'm not a cool, edgy, young Asian woman, or a hot gamer girl either, (oh cruel life), you may be wondering how I could feel the slightest iota of recognition toward Tink, with with her penchant for teeny bubble gum bikinis, and bouncy shiny hair. Well have faith - and remember I've had painkillers.
Tink tends to see human interaction as commerce. So when she meets a guy who understands the score upfront, and is happy with a ‘you give me cool stuff and in return you get to hang out with me’ kind of deal she is happy because he gets her. She can get adoration and gifts from most guys, but this one gets her! Oh sweet day. No more game playing! No need for tiring analysis! Just being!
..... then after a while the fact that he gets her means it stops being all about trading, and she starts to actually like him. Because he gets her. And I get that.Get it?
Nigel was totally down with the fact I can be hard as all living Hell when required. He kind of likes that about me - though perhaps not so much when directed at him ;) But he gets his jollies watching me do my thing. He also knows that I'm a mean sadist and he’s cool with that too, we kind of bonded over it. More than that though, he knows that I am really crap at doing things like talkingaboutmyfeelings or indeed emoting in any obvious manner. He knows that I tend to say 'fuck off ' in response to some things that nice girls are 'meant' to do, and he makes no attempt to ‘cure’ me, change me or understand the ins and out of the why and the how, he just leaves those things alone. Sweet Jesus that’s nice.
And what do you know? By never trying to get me to be more open/ softer he makes me inclined to be more open/ softer. Being accepted as the whole eclectic package that I am is cool.
I could tell you dozens of stories of people meeting me in one context and assigning some image or another to me based on this.For example;
Genus - Earth Mother type. Sample reasons: Kids, many, including several who weren’t mine. Vaguely hippy type leanings. Nurturing type.
Genus - Ditz. Sample reasons: I like glitter and I used to go clubbing a lot.
Genus - Academic, earnest individual. Sample reason: academics are all earnest so you must be.
Genus - ‘Survivor‘ (God help me). Reason: I’m not dead and you can see the scars on my palms. Yawn. This one appeals to people who like to angst all over the place or want to empower themselves.
Genus - Raving nymphomaniac sex kitten. Reason: I like orgasms, I’m bisexual and I have a lot of cleavage. See also Ditz, above.
Genus - Geek: ... Utterly inexplicable.
Oh the dramas for people when I turned out to be a real person. There was a Buddhist who decided I his perfect Earth Mother Goddess and foresaw a life of us changing the world together, one lentil at a time. He was heartbroken when I turned up for dinner with a teeny glittery bag because I was out dancing afterwards. I could tell you about far too many academics who consider buying an overpriced bottle of plonk at some stodgy conference to be letting their hair down, and assume the same of me. I could go on, but you get the gist.
Meanwhile Nigel just sees all this stuff plus all the other stuff, and gets that it’s all just part of the funny little package known as me. And that is why as time goes by he gets to know the other bits of me too.. Because he gets the baseline; I’m in charge, I am interested in experiencing life on my terms, and that in no way indicates that I want what anyone may expect me to based on whatever the image of me they have in their head may be; I feel far more inclined to include him in the plan.
And the side effect of this is just like the one for the divine Miss Tink. He gets me, as I am, so he ends up getting more of me.
Life is funny isn’t it?