stereotypes

Do you ever meet anyone who makes you think, "Man, YOU are why there is that stereotype!" It's not a frequent occurrence, yet always a surreal one...like this can't really be possible and you've only just wandered into a taping of the latest tween movie or something. I, personally, will sometimes have students who remind me of stereotypes. Often further acquaintance re-sorts them in my mind, but every now and then, in particularly precious circumstances, the stereotypic resemblance holds and, indeed, becomes more and more remarkably accurate. Whether it be the ditsy (or at least pretending to be) bimbo, the handsome out-going jock, the BYU co-ed (I've a friend who told me this existed, that I wasn't one, but then outlined all the particulars and I swear I met that exact girl not two months later...she'd just graduated from BYU-Idaho), or (as most recently) the big dim-witted lug (for you sceptics out there, Crabbe and Goyle really do exist), if you are at all connected to society the likeness can't escape you.

So, as infrequent as these encounters may be, I always find myself musing about stereotypes, why they exist, if it matters that they do exist, and if I should feel bad for so readily categorizing this person whom I've just met.

Ok, so I don't really feel guilty. I figure that obviously enough people have noticed enough similarity in enough of the population to recognise that they might be an almost valid subset of the general populace and so have, cumulatively, labeled a stereotype. And what's amazing is that they are reliable enough that everyone relates, everyone has seen it, and whether or not they admit it, everyone uses those stereotypes on almost a daily basis to relate themselves to the rest of humanity.

Yet, I find myself surprised every time I meet one. I'm always amazed that they really do exist. I suppose I must talk myself out of believing that they could actually be real! that someone could really be that way! that people could really be so seemingly accurately defined by so broad a description as a stereotype! It's fascinating.

Maybe the fact that I AM surprised bodes well for me. Maybe it means that I don't usually use stereotypes and instead they have to sort of be forced on me. At least I hope I don't use them to judge people...even if I most certainly use them to categorize and describe. I do my best.

All of which leads me to wonder...Has anyone ever met me and thought, "OH...she's one of THOSE people..." And if they have, what are THOSE people? Do I want to be one? Do they later re-sort me after they know me better? Should or do I even care?

All I know is, that after the latest stereotype encounter, I'm just really really glad that whatever stereotype I might fit into, I'm pretty sure it'd be a smart one.

getting flowers

So, this Tuesday a boy brought me flowers. Excuse me, I should say a man brought me flowers cause really he is a man; and besides, I've observed that in most cases persons of the male gender would rather be called "men" than "boys," so I'm trying to obtain the habit. But anyway, that's beside the point.

This Tuesday a man brought me flowers. Do you know? this is the first time I've ever received flowers from a guy. Well, ok, once in high school some guys brought me a single rose, but that doesn't count because it was a bunch of guys who brought them to a bunch of girls. Which is sweet, but definitely doesn't count. So when this man showed up at our arranged time with flowers I think I almost didn't know what to do. It was a little surreal. I'll admit that the statement I've told people, "Man, I'm probably gonna marry the first guy who gives me flowers," ran through my head (don't hold me to it, though :). In the end I believe I recovered well enough, thanked him for them then as well as later that night. I mean, I wanted to make sure he knew I appreciated the thought...he even picked them in colors that I'd said I liked the last time we went out. I'm pretty sure it was something of an impromptu purchase. He'd been at a store buying food for us to eat and I'm sure walked by the flowers and thought I might like them. Hm, how cute.

So, it's made me wonder a little. How is it that I've only just now gotten flowers from a guy? Maybe it has something to do with the thought that ran through my head. While I've always said it half in jest, that leaves half of it that is really quite true. What is it about flowers that means a guy is one you might want to marry?...I think it comes down to two things, a truly affectionate nature, and commitment.

First, only a truly, actually, sweetly affectionate guy is cool enough to want to conform to tradition in such a way as to bring flowers to a girl he is liking (I can still call myself a girl, right? I mean, yes, I'm a woman, but I'm in no way affronted if someone happens to call me a girl). Well ok, either that or a guy who is creepy, but shrewd enough to to believe that as the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so the way to a woman's heart is through lavish gifts. However, we are going to bypass this possibility since those are obviously not the kinds of guys I've been attracting since, as noted above, I have never gotten flowers before. So, of course an affectionate guy, and one that's affectionate about me, is exactly the kind of man I'd want to marry.

Second, giving flowers implies a sort of commitment, and so a committing kind of nature. I mean, sure it's not the I-love-you-like-crazy-baby-never-let-me-go kind of commitment, but it is the you-are-really-cool-and-I-am-confident-enough-in-myself-and-how-I-feel-about-you-right-now-to-spend-money-on-something-that-I'm-pretty-sure-displays-that-I've-been-thinking-of-you kind of commitment. And that is pretty cool, cause you see, not only does it show that they guy likes you, it shows confidence and even hints that he can be committal...who wouldn't want that in a spouse?

Now this leads me to think of guys whom I have dated in the past who didn't ever get me flowers and, you know, they were definitely missing one or both of these qualities. They either really were affectionate and liked me a lot, but totally non-committal, or they were the committing type, but deep down knew they didn't have enough affection for me to make the flowers gesture. Hm, interesting.

So, in the end, I think a guy that will give you flowers has a lot going for him. I'm pretty sure my latest guy does. Now don't anyone get too excited or anything, I still barely know him and am seeing where it'll go, but he's definitely ahead of the game at this point. :)

So there you have it, I have only officially received flowers twice ever. Twice? you say? Yeah, that's right, this is not the only time that I've ever gotten flowers...just the first time from a guy. One time I was pretty sick and my cute cute sister was coming to see me and she brought me flowers. You can see a picture of them at the top of this post. That was seriously so sweet of her and I loved it soooooo much, cause not only is it such a kind thought, but I also just really really really like flowers...what's not to like? they are so super duper pretty.

the image you've all been waiting for

It's finally here, sorry it took so long, I've just been busy and only thinking of it here and there. So, what is it? First a short story is in order.

I am not a clumsy person...ok, except for all the oodles of times that I happened to kick over water on the floor no matter how surreptitiously it had been placed which, now that I think about it may have been a subconscious way of getting attention. Looking back on my life I think that I did quite a few things for that. And one may have been a quite consistent stream of minor injuries--nothing really dangerous, but enough to talk about and sympathize over. Well, it happened to be a day when I was realizing this and deciding it was an attitude that it was time to get over.

So I was having these brilliant thoughts on changing my life and becoming injury-free when the urge to relieve myself came upon me and I made my way to the bathroom at work. That bathroom has a heavy door, and one that has never caused me any grief in the past. Well, this day I somehow let my pointer finger linger a little long in the door frame and before I knew it the door had slammed on my finger, and bounced back like from a rubber stopper. I, of course, jumped and looked at my now throbbing finger and was fascinated to see that the bruise had formed immediately. Seriously! I've never seen a bruise appear so fast! Wow!

So I got ice and yada yada yada. The point here is NOT for sympathy (remember? I'm over that kind of attention need :), but how cool my bruise looks. I just think it's interesting. Thus, I decided to share it with you all. And you ought to see it now, it's starting to grow out a little, but it'll still be like two months. In the meantime it still looks pretty awesome, and the other day after washing my hands I noticed that I could see some water swishing around inside it underneath my nail! EW! It was kind of gross, but cool too...the body is so amazing.

My plan is to someday use this picture as a model for a really cool abstract painting that will hang in my house and inspire creativity, good karma, and the belief that sometimes something happens that is merely a stepping stone to something else. :)