i grant i never saw a goddess go

I have a problem.  I’ve had this problem before, except I never thought of it as a problem.  I don’t like girls.  That sounds simple and even mean, and its much more complicated.  A cross-section of my friends has generally always been male-heavy.  The closer the friend, the more likely it will its a guy.  I’ve found that guys are less complicated, less dramatic, less whining and in general more amusing to be around.  Not that I don’t love my girl friends.  I do enjoy them and there is a reason why I am closer to those girls as opposed to others.  I find them less complicated, less dramatic…  You get the point.  I’m not saying that everyone can’t be complicated or dramatic or whining (or un-amusing) at times, but there is a balance.  There is a way for it to work and not work.

It was about a year ago I wrote about not wanting new friends.  There is a context of being a senior and preparing to leave.  I was also still recoiling from Newfie’s departure.  I was also about the spiral into depression, but there was a ring of truth to what I was saying back then.

I don’t have a great desire to bond with the freshmen or the grad student, though he seems to want to talk to me a whole lot more than I want to talk to him.  Either way, I don’t want to be his friend.  I don’t want to be anyone’s friend!  I mean, I don’t want new friends.  I don’t want the drama and flair and crap that comes along with new friends.  I like my friends.  I like who I am and who they are, and I just don’t care much for anyone outside that group right now. ~ 09/09/08

I’m not nearly that bad right now.  First off, my out of control spiral isn’t nearly that out of control and its nearly two months further into a semester.  Secondly, I’m not so harsh about not wanting to be anyone’s friend.  I do want to be friends with people.  I do want to reach out and hear them and open up and maybe, just maybe, let them in.  I’m not totally against the drama and flair and crap.  Perhaps its also because there is a lot less of that here at seminary.  When it is here, its not nearly as explosive or public as it ever was in Fred.  Its the nature of the school and the culture around it.

But I’m finding it interesting the people I’m drawn to, and the people I tend to avoid and even write off.  I do feel bad, because a lot of why I avoid them has more to do with knee-jerk stereotypes that are in my head.  But sometimes its a bit difficult to sort out what is stereotyping prejudice and what is gut-instinct, which should not be ignored.

You were talking about something completely different when you starting writing this entry.

Okay, so I’m a little off topic again.

Huh.  This is why your papers are so wandering and rambling.  This is why you need a thesis stamped across your hands so you never write anything unconnected to that idea.

Not all those ideas or points are bad!

Course not!  But they aren’t on topic!  Why can’t you focus?

Maybe if you shut up for a moment.  Now what was I saying?

Oh yeah, and I’m the problem…

I’m tending towards men again.  For example, my small group – Julia, Jill, Yvette, Rhonda and Mary then Joel and Paul.  Jill and I are definitely getting close (though her husband doesn’t seem to like me) and the other women are just as nice and lovely and drama/flair/crap-free.  But I’m drawn to Paul and Joel.  I find it easier to talk to them.  I find it easier to talk to Mike, who isn’t in my small group and doesn’t even know I’m bipolar!  I’m drawn to Micah and George and Matt and the other Matt.

Doesn’t your school have like 900 guys and 4 women?

Alright – its not that bad, but I can see the point.  According to the 2008 numbers, the seminary had 277 students enrolled and about 22% were women.  So even by random selection you’re more likely to interact with men.  Right now in the student center, there are 16 people and 4 women.

Told you there were 4 women.

So there is that part of what pond you’re fishing in.  Undergrad was slightly opposite.  The oboe studio was mostly girls (over 20 in my time), but I only became close with two, maybe three of them – Mouse, Lulorial and Kelly.  I found more guy friends outside my studio than within it.

But as I’m trying to dissect why my knee-jerk stereotyping kicks in, I’m starting to realize a part of it is a reaction to their gender.  I’m more comfortable around men.  I find them easier to talk to.  I can definitely feel self-conscious, but not in a tongue-tying moron-acting way that I sometimes get around other women.

That’s cause you compare yourself to other women.  You look at their weight, body size, height, hair color, make-up, style, bone structure and wish you could do or be somehow like them.  You then start thinking that since they are so beautiful, what must they think of you?  You feel inferior and less than them.

I don’t know if thats really true.  What happens with guys then?

You beat into your brain for so long that you didn’t want a guy who merely wanted you for your body.  You wanted a guy, as both friend and lover, who wanted you for your mind as well.  Who saw more than flesh and bone.  You do this all the time with people.  Their beauty shines out, or not, as you get to know them.  For you, the beauty is directly related to the inner person.

Sometimes.  I can look at people and think they are beautiful, but know they are not nice.  And I can look at people society claims are ugly or disfigured and see beauty.

Thats the thing though.  Those beautiful but cruel people – you don’t desire to be like them.  And thats why you love Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130.

I think you’re full of it.

Well that means you are too.

Lovely.  The point I was trying to get at, is that I don’t really want to isolate myself from the female population.  I don’t think I’ve really done that, but I’ve definitely pull back from them.  Perhaps some of it has to do with the beauty and comparisons and such.  But I think there’s more to it.  I just don’t know what exactly yet.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go:
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Sonnet 130 ~ William Shakespeare