Oh bad boys. I've been thinking about them a lot. You see, I recently re-read Wuthering Heights (see the post about my used book fetish). I remember loving the book as a teen when I read it first but years later I love it even more. Why? Because Heathcliff.
Heathcliff is a dick.
He is NOT a good guy, not at all. Some may think of a bad boy as someone who drives a motorcycle and smokes Marlboros with greased back hair and all those stereotypes, but this guy would eat those boys for lunch. He's not the kind of guy you should swoon for. He's downright despicable. He beats up on well, everyone actually. And at one point he hangs his wife's dog. That's right. He HANGS A FRIGGING DOG! Heathcliff abused everyone in his life (men, children, woman, etc.) And yet...he was so compelling you wanted to read more about him.
If Heathcliff were around today, his doings would make one hell of an episode of Law and Order.
But still there are some ladies who read the book and fall in love with him. Why? Because he's angsty and dark and troubled and bitter and brooding. And because, let's face it, fictional bad boys are AWESOME.
There are several examples of the bad boy in literature, movies and television where horrible dudes doing horrible things are romanticized. Long before anyone knew that Snape was actually an okay guy, there were girls (and boys) writing hot fanfiction about him. And I've known many a grown woman who fell for Christian Grey although I have yet to figure out why. I have never read 50 Shades of Grey nor have I seen the movie and to tell the truth, it doesn't sound entertaining to me in the least. Although what do I know? I mean, I like Heathcliff, so....
Now I know there's some psychology to this, although for the life of me I can't figure out what it is. I'm not a very patient person in real life. I'm super-nice on the outside but if a guy even looked at me cross-eyed I'd probably dump him on the spot. So why do we women - good women, strong women - like these fictional guys that would possibly hurt us?
Because they can't. That's the only answer I could come up with.
There's kind of a safety net there. You can experience all the danger and excitement of a real bad boy with no heartbreak, or you know, actual physical/mental abuse and long-term implications. It's a fantasy of danger without having the visible scars to deal with. And no one gets arrested.
I probably am giving this too much thought. Girls will always have crushes on the fictional, dark, brooding dudes who would drive us crazy in real life. Just as guys will always have their crushes on...bad girls? Feel free to chime in here boys. I'm kind of interested in what kind of fictional bad girls you like, because in my mind they're probably all this:
So there you have it. Bad boys will be bad boys and girls will always love them - albeit from a safe distance. Feel free to chime in below with your fictional "bad crush". I can't judge, because, you know, Heathcliff. ;)
Well, not all death. I mean fun death. Like, I don't want anyone real to die, I can't watch the news without crying. And my hope is for your Aunt Martha to make it through whatever ails her so she can live to a ripe old age. But dammit I do enjoy death as entertainment.
My Mom is fond of telling this story. When I was 2 years old, my parents took me to Disney World. They said I was pretty relaxed about the whole affair until we went on the Haunted Mansion ride. Apparently there were a ton of kids my age and slightly above who were scared and crying throughout the entire thing.
Me? I lit up like a Christmas tree.
My Mother (who is not one to embellish stories) said that I clapped and cheered the entire time. I declared that dancing spirits were my favorite thing of anything ever (and probably still are) and I wanted to go through it as many times as they would possibly allow. My parents must have been very patient I guess. I haven't been to Disney World in years but if/when I go back - it's the first ride I'm hitting.
No one in my family loves horror. No one. I did not get this genetically. I don't know where it comes from. Neither of my brothers like the genre and about the scariest thing my parents watch is the occasional John Wayne movie, although once they somehow got duped into watching Hannibal when it was out in theaters. My Mom originally thought it was about the historical figure (no kidding).
I also don't look like someone who embraces the dark. I don't wear much make-up, I have normal boring brown hair, no tattoos and only my ears are pierced. I would look out of place at a any horror convention. The only slightly goth thing I have as décor in my house is a sugar skull trivet I have in my kitchen. (I bought on Amazon as an impulse, but you have to admit, it's pretty damn cute).
In fact, I look like someone who would watch Lifetime and cry at the end of Sleepless in Seattle. I do neither of these things. Although the Korean horror film A Tale of Two Sisters made me weep openly. What a great movie that was (sob...sniff).
There's a tendency by "normal people" and the media to blame murders and the like on horror, to which I exclaim "Bollocks!" mainly because I'm a Yank and that word means nothing here but it's fun to say, and also because I don't think listening to heavy metal, watching horror or loving anything goth in general automatically makes one a serial killer. It's takes years of abuse plus a great deal of time, planning and a whole lot of training to do that. And I'm slightly too well-adjusted. Plus I'm lazy.
Also, when people say that horror movies are terrible I always counter with what I call The Titanic Theory. It goes like this:
Random Person: Ewww....you like horror? But it's so gross! They show people getting killed! Me: Did you like Titanic? Person: Love that movie! But it's not horror. Me: LOTS of dead bodies at the end of Titanic...(smirk)
Usually they end up arguing that it's a romance, after which I point out that the "final girl" lived, just as in any horror movie, while her boyfriend was killed, also as in any horror movie. Also the great "love lost" scene happened while there were a ton of open-mouthed dead people floating around them. I may not be the most romantic person in the world, but open-mouthed dead floating people doesn't sound all that sexy to me. And of course there's the fact that it was something that really happened and a lot of people died. So there's that.
In a weird way, horror has become a sort of comfort zone for me. So while everybody's watching the latest comic book movie, I'm watching zombies eat people in some obscure movie I found from 1989. This comfort zone extends to television too. For example, I have never seen Breaking Bad or Mad Men. I have, of course, seen every single episode of Ash vs. Evil Dead.
So I watch what I watch with a smile, no matter how gruesome, because for me people getting killed in various and sundry ways helps me to relax and cope with life. I mean, if somebody's being knived by a deranged killer when all they wanted to do was party in that deserted amusement park where several people mysteriously disappeared 10 years ago on that very night, well - your problems don't seem that bad, do they?
Until next time, sweet dreams. Or nightmares. You know which one I'd choose. ;)
Hey there all! I just want you to let you know that I'm filled with self-loathing and shame. And I blame it on you and your perfect lives.
Cut it out will ya? No seriously stop it.
Actually I'm kind of semi-joking here. But I do have a tendency to get jealous of other people very easily. That whole "grass is always greener" thing certainly applies to me. I'm pretty much convinced that my lawn is a desert with no oasis and an occasional tumbleweed flowing through while everybody else's is a lush green paradise. They have no problems those with the green, perfectly manicured lawns. Everything must come easy to them.
Really if we're going by movie references, I'm Kevin Spacey, and you're all Brad Pitts and I sort of want to put Gwyneth Paltrow's head in a box and then giggle furiously. But then again, it's Gwyneth Paltrow, so can you blame me?
Of course I wouldn't do anything like that. Because, you know, morals. Plus I'm pretty sure it'd be all 'GOOPy'. (Yeah, I just wrote that. I hate myself....)
The thing is I tend to get into ruts. I do the same thing day in and day out. I'm convinced most people are out there living while I'm over here existing. I would love to lead a life of adventure and excitement but for the life of me, I don't know how.
There's a girl I used to work with. We were both trapped in a stifling office. One day she decided to chuck it all and move to the tropics. Just like that. Now she's doing things like captaining boats, sleeping on exotic beaches etc. The funny thing is, someone on Facebook once posted "I wish I led your life" to which she replied "You want MY life? I've never heard anybody say that!"
Wait...WHAT?
It turns out there's a price to be paid for everything. I have really close family and friends I can turn to right here. Her friends are in other parts of the country. I have a home, a place where I can keep things. She doesn't really have a home to speak of and is never quite sure where the next job will take her. It still sounds lovely in my mind, but the thing I'm slowly realizing is nobody's life is perfect.
Everybody's lives look great on social media but sometimes that's not REALLY their lives. After all, we all want to look great to others don't we? I mean I generally won't post a picture of myself with messy hair and a double chin, even though I might look that way at the time. Why? Because I want to look other people to think I look good. We all put out what I call "the highlight reel"- our best selves leading our best lives even though inside we're filled with doubt and insecurity.
So maybe I need to tend to my own lawn a bit, instead of whining about my neighbor's. After all, I usually don't see the amount of time they put into it nor do I see the amount of manure they use to fertilize it. 😉
