Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Specialized Personalities

I've been thinking about people's personalities and marriage, which isn't surprising, I suppose, given that I'm a 20 year old female at BYU. It's something that seems to happen.

Anyway.

You know how we're always told that there isn't just one person that we could be happy in marriage with....That there are a lot of people out there with whom we could make a good, successful relationship and a happy home if we're just willing to work with them. Any two righteous temple-worthy adults, right? The idea of soul mates is one that has been (rightfully) denounced in the Church.

I really don't think I believe in soul mates, but I do think that there's a difference between not believing that there's only a single individual out there for you and believing that you could marry any individual who's righteous and be completely happy. Allow me to explain.

Some personalities are more generally compatible. It's kind of like majors. There are some majors and specializations that are easily applicable to any number of fields after graduation, things you get from most general education classes: basic history, principles of science, an appreciation of some of the more famous arts. Then there are things like specializing in the colloquialisms of the Mediterranean between the years of 1600 and 1741...Not something you can just bring up in regular conversation. Some people's personalities are the same way. There are the generally compatible with all sorts of people personalities, who have a wide selection of potential eternal companions because of the great number of people they'd be compatible with. Then there are the specialized personalities. These are people who are still wonderful, but they've got certain personality quirks that don't make it so that they could just have any old arranged marriage and make it work. There's absolutely nothing wrong with them, they've just got a narrower breadth of people with whom they could be potentially happy.

I think I'm a specialized personality, and I'm perfectly happy being that way. I get along with most everyone...But there are definitely a great many people whom I could rule out as possible marriage material; not because of any kind of unworthiness, but because I don't think we could be happy at all together barring some extraordinary change in their, or my personality. Don't start thinking that I'm walking down the street and picking out future husbands (not a chance), it's just something I've been observing as I've watched people run to get into a relationship and get married.

Something else that bugs me about other people's relationships is this: A lot of times when a girl is involved in a break-up she'll say something like, "Oh, I know there's someone better out there." I think the sentence needs to be changed. I don't think it's fair that a guy gets dumped on as soon as a relationship is over. Girls seem to do it all the time. They talk about how blind they were, how they never knew who the guy really was, or how terribly manipulated they were.

Girls, this is not fair. Sure there's someone else who's out there for you. And for you and your needs, he will likely be better. This doesn't make the guy who you broke up with scum, nor does it diminish his value as an individual. Some other person isn't better than him...He's just more suited to your needs and tastes. There are a few rare cases (generally involving abuse and the like) in which the guy really was a scum-bag, but a guy doesn't become scum just because he doesn't think your relationship is going somewhere. While break-ups are bound to be painful, don't dump on the guy, don't whine about how you didn' t know what you were getting into, and don't go being a jerk in general. Guys have feelings too, don't dump on them for dumping you, pick yourself up and move on. If you dumped him, fine. Don't talk about how you were wasting your time. Obviously there was something about the guy that you liked in the first place, or you wouldn't have ever started dating that person. Focus on the good, and move on.

Sunday, July 24, 2005

Bunk Beds

Our apartment complex currently houses three girls to each room. This means that there are a set of bunk beds and a regular bed for each room. Currently, Uffish has the top bunk and I've got the bottom.

Now there are a great many good things about a bunk bed. You've got "tree-house" possibilities for the top bunk, and "inner sanctum"/fort possibilities for the bottom bunk. You can play drive through fast food restaurant, or weddings, and you get the comfort of knowing that one of your closest friends is right nearby in case you have a bad dream...Or something.

I've actually grown up most of my life with a bunk bed. There aren't too many downsides to bunk beds, at least in my opinion. I really like them. The only unforgivable fault they have is this:

Bunkbeds are horrifically inconvenient for being dramatic.

When I was little I would watch movies with the teenage girls in them where they would come home from a terrible day at school, or come in from having an argument with their mom or something, and then they'd toss whatever was in their hands on the ground, sob dramatically once, and then fling themselves onto the bed with their hair spilling gently over their arms into which their face was burried as they wept softly about how misunderstood they were.

I had a sort of sad wish to be able to reenact this scene in my own life. The only differences would be that I would be crying about something really worth crying about when I did it...And I'd have to do it on a bunk bed.

Finally, the day came when it was time for me to act out my scene. The day had been terrible--I'd gotten a C+ on a pre-algebra test, and it was time for me to go mourn my sorrows with my bed as my only solace.

Well...I ran into the house after being picked up from school, walked calmly down the hallway as to assure that I didn't alert my mother to my plight, and then threw the door to my bedroom askance, flung my backpack dramatically by the wayside, and ran to my bed to fling myself down.

Being entirely caught up in the moment, I seem to have forgotten the fact that I was the person who lived on the top bunk at this time. For being dramatic...That simply wouldn't do. No heroine climbs pathetically up the side ladder to melt unceremoniously onto her covers. No, no...For my big dramatic moment, I needed the bottom bunk. I decided that my sister wouldn't mind too terribly if I used her bed. I glanced around sorrowfully for effect, and then flung myself onto her bottom bunk. The only problem came mid-flight...As I seemed to have forgotten that there existed a top bunk. I ran my forehead into the top bunk as I tried to fling myself dramatically, and got flung backwards instead.

Needless to say, my dramatic moment was ruined. There was no weeping, no billowing soft hair, and definitely no comfort. All I had to show for my dramatic exploits was a bump on the head and a C+ on a pre-algebra test. What a waste of emotions!

I'm better now, I swear. Though I still get the urge on occasion to fling myself dramatically onto a mattress, I manage usually to repress the urge. I can now fully appreciate bunk beds for the space economization and their playful childlike qualities...

...At least until the next pre-algebra test.