I’m a wee bit crazy. Just a little. Well, maybe slightly more than a little. Actually, I might be sort of absolutely, completely, bat-shit insane. (Don’t tell anyone.)
And you know what? Every single girl in the world is exactly like me. We’re all effing crazy. WOMEN, as a rule, are Crazy.
(Let’s get this straight, though- I’m not talking I-probably-need-meds crazy, I’m talking, I want you to WANT to do the dishes crazy. Biiiiiig difference.)
And men? Well, that’s easy. Men are DUMB.
Guys are very simple creatures. Most (straight) men fall somewhere between a golden retriever (the high end) and a sweet potato (the low).
Disclaimer: Obviously, I am only talking about a man’s intelligence as it relates to women; i.e., their ability to not only PERCEIVE when something is wrong, but to know WHY said thing is upsetting, and, for the extremely advanced of the species, HOW to go about fixing said distressing event and/or situation.
Women, on the other hand, are insanely complicated. We think, we worry, we analyze Every. Little. Thing. We notice every tiny nuance of everything you (men) do or say, and then we rip it to nearly imperceptible shreds in our brains, considering the action and its potential meaning from all possible angles.
Then, inevitably, we decide upon whichever one is the least rational.
And we wallow. We don’t want to “bother” you with it. So instead, we sulk, we pout, we answer with one word. And finally at some point, when you, say, get annoyed because we sometimes forget to put a glass in the dishwasher instead of the sink, (totes hypothetical, of course), we freakthefuckout. It may be tears, it may be anger, but you can be sure there’s a whole lot more behind it. I promise.
Like I said, we’re effing crazy. What do you want?
THEREFORE, the trick, I believe, to finding the “perfect guy” is not at all about how he looks on paper. It’s not really about his job, his clothes, or whether he makes you laugh- those all help, yes, but they are not the most important thing.
The most important thing, my friend, is finding a guy who not only puts up with your crazy, he gets your crazy. Although we’re not really aware of it, this is what we mean when we say “he just GETS me.” What we’re actually saying is, He Gets My Kind of Crazy.
Conversely, when a man gets Your Kind of Crazy, he is no longer nearly as Dumb. You even realize his weaknesses as far as his Own Kind of Dumbness, and are willing to help him out with the little Bits of Crazy he doesn’t get. You throw him a bone now and then, as far as, “I’m upset BECAUSE,” because usually? He Gets It.
And thus is born a new axiom in Livit, Luvit’s little world. Words to live by, if you will.
“It’s all about finding a man who can handle her brand of crazy… and a woman who can handle his brand of dumb.” ~ Me and J
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sidenote- this post is totally an open invitation for a gentleman blogger to write The Other Side…
Update: See one excellently written and thought-provoking response here, by my esteemed friend Restaurant Refugee.






















{ 2 trackbacks }
{ 26 comments }
The moment I read “I’m a wee bit crazy” I thought “Every woman is crazy. It’s just about finding the crazy that you can deal with”, and then you went and took the words from my mouth.
“…we analyze Every. Little. Thing. We notice every tiny nuance of everything you (men) do or say, and then we rip it to nearly imperceptible shreds in our brains,…”
After reading this part I nearly wet myself.
66: At least I’m self-aware. I can’t say the same for all those crazy beotches out there…
J: You know it’s true. It’s also indicative of the effing mess that is the inside of our heads.
Oh Liv, you? Crazy? Noooo? Couldn’t be.
This post is some kind of crazy plot by women to get us to talk about our feelings? Right? Well, ain’t never gonna happen. Just give us the remote back and let us watch the game.
We’ll get back to you when the football, college basketball, hockey and baseball seasons are over.
Foggy, you know you feel feelings, admit it.
This is so spot on. When you find that person who can just look at you, see that you are internally freaking out, and just calm you down by being him…you have it made.
Foggy: We’ll get your feeeelings out of you yet. We’re very sneaky (it’s part of the crazy).
Lem: As you so eloquently put it, finding “the one who can talk me off a ledge” is a beautiful thing.
I feel feelings, like when I smash my thumb with a hammer or…
Alas, it is true. In addition to being as dumb as a root vegetable, we’re also weak and helpless when it comes to your wiles.
My spouse says “I want you to always be honest.” She doesn’t mean that. We have a little event coming up this weekend and she’s trying to decide what to wear. I’m downstairs trying to watch TV. She came all the way downstairs in her fourth outfit to see what I thought and asked, “Do you even care any more?” I was honest. It was the wrong thing to do. As soon as I said “no”, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. A shining example of crazy women and dumb men.
That’s love right there, Cookie. Sounds like Steak and BJ day should come early for J this year (which, I find, is the perfect way to make up for the crazy — and, yeah, I’ve cooked up a bunch of steaks in my day).
Foggy: We know. (Some of us.) And we are by far the most crazy, I mean dangerous.
Gilahi: You are 100% correct. When faced with a fashion decision, if you don’t have an opinion, just say one or the other, decisively. This will either confirm her instinct, and she will choose that item, or she’ll wrinkle her nose and say, “Really?” and recognize that she actually likes the other one better. Then say, “wear what you want, hon, you know I always think you look beautiful.” End of story.
We may be crazy, but there is a method to dealing with it… if you can crack it…
Freckledk: Every day is BJ day in our house. I think it’s a fair trade.
Good god. I always subscribed to the “dumb” theory, until I met the Boy Wonder and mistakenly thought that he was complex. But that was just my crazy talking.
Of course he is dumb and I am crazy. Why else would I have gone shopping over the lunch hour…AGAIN?
B is a lucky man to have steak every day.
FEARLESS: Oh, I’m jealous… shopping has become a 4-letter word in our house until all the moving-expenses have been dealt with. Think of me when you buy a pair of shoes!
Foggy: He knows.
amen, sister!
Wow. I’m without words. Except for those ones. And these too.
Very well said my friend!
My dear, you would not be jealous if you saw my credit card balance right now. Like I said…crazy.
Golden retrievers are highly trainable.
Even better when he GETS your crazy and he even thinks it’s kinda endearing! Because you wouldn’t be the YOU he loves without your quirks, right?
Venomiss: Holla girl.
Zachy: Shut up and kiss me.
Fearless: Touche, darling, touche.
Lacochran: Glad someone caught that
Charlotte: Abso fucking lutely. For some reason the man finds me adorable… and I’ll take it.
so simply said and so unbelievably true.
Welllll, yah. That’s pretty much it.
This was very well done but I must point out that although we are crazy the dudes often make us even more crazy. Especially when we are having a moment and they just stare at us and you can hear the blink blink of their eyes as they watch… Silently
Carrie M: Thanks girl
Lisa: Right?
Red: You are 100% correct. I just got 3 points crazier after reading that, remembering some of those very experiences… UGH
that is really true.
I think I already wrote a response without knowing it:
http://15minutelunch.blogspot.com/2006/04/somebody-moved-my-shit-i-think.html
Another great post. I’ve been discussing this too and I definitely like the dumb/crazy comparison you made here. But I also think that the priorities of men and women are different. As guys, our goal is to get the girl. We put a lot of time, effort, concentration, and work into this. Once a guy finally gets the girl, he doesn’t want to work on the realtionship anymore. Whereas girls believe that once you’re in a relationship is when the real work begins. I think that’s an important disconnect, and a cause for a lot of the friction and drama between men and women.
Comments on this entry are closed.