Day 141: Lavinia

Lavinia by Ursula K. LeGuin.  ISBN: 9780151014248.

“Males in love are ridiculous…They can’t help it.” Page 57.

I think this is probably my favorite quote, ever. Strangely it was about a deer and they compared it to a dog chasing a bitch (LeGuin’s words, not mine). Still, I think it applies across most species. It’s one thing all men can be comforted in knowing: ya’ll look stupid in love. I mean, really, really dumb. It’s hilarious, and endearing, and pretty much the only reason women don’t kill you outright when you get to be a little too clingy.

I’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of men fall in love with me, and oh my god you can tell.  Even the most seemingly respectable man will do the strangest, most irrational things to please you.  And folks, I am all too aware of my looks. I’m not super model material, not anywhere close, and I have had men literally fall over themselves when they are around me because something in their brain goes, “Durrrrrr, I wanna be with that one!”

Oh sure, women do this too, on a smaller scale. We tend to fawn over the men in our lives and gush about crushes, but we do it with other women (or select males).  And most of this occurs fairly early in our lives, so that later girl talks tend to turn more towards pointing out all of your defects.  This is certainly how it’s worked in my life anyway and I know I’m not exactly the average female, but I don’t think it’s far off the mark either.

For me, it was easier to be stupid with some of my potential partner choices because it seemed like I would be young for a very long time and would have plenty of chances to get another one if it didn’t work out. Unfortunately it was also a lot easier to overlook major character flaws, so I ended up with some men who cared nothing for me, and, looking back on it, for whom I cared very little as well.

Having gained some experience with people I did want to be with, I can now recognize the signs of someone who wants to be with me. It starts with about a 20 point drop in IQ level whenever I’m around. This of course necessitates finding an already intelligent man, and having his intelligence drop to slightly above average. I’m okay with this. It actually produces some fairly hilarious conversation/moments, and sometimes the brain can be reverted back to its normal state during times of stress or social anxiety. In other words, if I throw my fiancé into a crowd of academics his brain usually puts on its monocle and black tie and behaves itself at least well enough to interact with other cerebellums. And before I incriminate him any further, I’m going to sign off.

With much love to my Squishy Hubbaboo (and my respect and admiration to any other ridiculous males in love),

Amy L. Campbell.