Thursday, January 21, 2010

I’m Just Not That into You

Two nights ago, my roomies and I settled down to watch He’s Just Not That into You, a cinematic tribute to social retards and unstable women everywhere.

Basically, there were two or three awwwwws sprinkled over the plot – mostly to keep you from pitching your coffee table at the television when Ginnifer Goodwin opened her crazy hormonal pie hole. And the moral of the story was this: women are fucking crazy. But don’t fret female audience members - men can be crazy too!

Yeah, in the end, we get to feel better about ourselves because it turns out that what’s-his-face – played by The Mac Guy – is just as unstable and unpredictable as Ginnifer Goodwin. Sort of. I mean, unlike her, he can actually attract members of the opposite gender – and he doesn’t sexually assault people that don’t like him out of desperation and stupidity.

Lately, I’ve begun to really taken notice of the giant batch of crazy that all female characters in media seem to be made of.

An example: Dexter. Goddammit, I love this show. But has anyone noticed how insipid all the female characters are?! I mean, Dexter’s sister is like the hormonal psychopath of the apocalypse! She’s always dating crazies – you know, serial killers, old men that hunt serial killers, common criminals – and she falls crazy in love with them, cries a lot, gets mad at every freaking thing…essentially, she’s a man’s worst nightmare.

Anyway, the point is, American media portrays women as emotional nut bags.

So, here’s the question: are the majority of women raving lunatics? Or do women and men alike think that’s how it’s supposed to be – because they’ve seen it on TV?

Basically, I’m tired of this type of behavior being promoted. It’s not normal – and if it is, shouldn’t we discourage it?

I have an incredibly sweet boyfriend who is overly accommodating, and he is often startled by my lack of open-mindedness when it comes to keeping company. Sometimes I don’t participate in the activities he invites me to, simply because I know I can’t stand the other guests. Today, while reading Metrodad, I stumbled across a quote that sums up my perspective perfectly:

“But it’s not that I don’t like people. It’s just that certain events have made me poignantly aware of how short life is and that I shouldn’t waste time with shallow idiots who make the Jonas brothers sound like Truman’s counsel of Wise Men.”

Ah ha! If only I been able to express this when The Boyfriend wanted to know why I didn’t want to chill with an old classmate that had transformed into a druggy Suicide Girl with co-dependency issues – and whose favorite topic of conversation was, of course, serial killers. Or that time I expressed dismay at hanging out with his ex, who rather enjoys taking sexual and/or emo photographs of herself and writing about how no one understands her in her Livejournal (who the fuck still has a Livejournal?!).

Dude, I just don’t care. These chicks practically have giant signs taped to their heads that say “PAY ATTENTION TO ME! I’M CRAZY!” That’s how you’re going to get attention? By acting like you’re off your meds? By tattooing dead fetuses on your arms? (true story) I mean, hell, I’ve got daddy issues too – but I address mine by calling pops “Cancer Dad” and coming up with plots to off Wife Number Four.

So, in summation, please stop rewarding your crazy girl friends’ emotional outbursts with concern and understanding. No. No, I don’t understand why you’re fucking crying in a corner. Maybe if you stopped popping pills for three goddamn seconds, you would feel more balanced.

Guys, if I were you, I would just take a page out of John Wayne’s book. Specifically from a scene in one of my favorite movies, McLintock!:


Sometimes, you just gotta smack a bitch.*

*Obviously I was raised incorrectly. Only very, very strange little girls grow up idolizing John Wayne because he grew some balls and smacked Maureen O’Hara on the ass with a shovel. Bitch deserved it – she was playin’ games.

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