An educated wife?

And on to the topic of “the educated wife” and why I’m so glad I’m not involved with arranged-marriage or dowries (contrary to anything that may have come out of my mouth a week and a half ago).

I have this problem of thinking too much.  All the time, my brain keeps overworking itself, questioning too much, looking for patterns, reaching for new information.  Inevitably (err, at minimum once a day), I hit the contradictions.  Easy example last semester.  One day, I decided that it would be fun to find some fiercely wealthy man and then convince him to marry me.  Sounds like a brilliant (albeit a little off-the-rocker) plan.  A perusal of the Forbes list came up with princes, sultans, IT CEOs, and some old money – most unmarried, or at least not entirely poly-married.  I found this a perfectly fine way to spend an hour.  I know that some people fantasize about stuff like that, but for awhile, for me, it seemed a fairly reasonable thing to at least do some groundwork on.  

The contradiction?  It bothers me greatly to have been “on someone’s list”.  Seriously, being on a list is like being chips or a bottle of wine or, god forbid, sandwich meat.  Things you shop for that come packaged nicely with some guarantee of quality and expectations for behavior.  Shopping comes with the baggage (sorry, the puns are right there) of preconception (oh!  Another one!) and expectations and is highly uncomplicated.  And as much as the “it’s complicated” thesis has been bothering me lately, well, “IT’S COMPLICATED.”  All this after lecturing SH on how I find shopping for a wife demeaning, objectifying, and basically dreadful.  

So maybe I’m ok objectifying people who are, in fact, only objects to me.  I think it would be terrifically awkward to objectify, to that extreme, people that I know, at least.  When a person is just a name, image, and a number, how much of a person can I know them to be?

Obviously, I can’t do this list thing.  In fact, the simplicity of “expectations” with only a name, number, and brief message is astounding.  Carry that out to the regular spouse-shopping mechanisms: internet-dating sites are there for you to find what you’re looking for, classified personals are about selling yourself to the highest bidder, matchmaking services are attempting to recreate “chemistry” or finding matching puzzle pieces – but fail to account for true complexity (complexity that comes from observation and knowledge, not self-reporting).  I can honestly say that, were I to have stumbled upon my friends and confidants in one of those media instead of having met them in reality, I would have outright ignored them, immediately considering them “too good” “not good enough” or, and I’m sure this is just me being callous “irritating in description”/ “false sense of cuteness/humor”/ “too good to be true”/ “not my type”.  

And were I married to someone, as such, an “educated wife,” would I be pedestaled and given free reign of servants and my own academic pursuits, as in some literary fiction?  Would I be beaten into submission, compliance, and repression of my thought?  If the expectation of being “smart, funny, good in bed” (which I’ve seen or heard implied in so many spouse-shopping lists) were mapped onto me, how would I comply?  Does labeling an expectation “smart” imply a diploma, does is allow for cheekiness, or does it suggest large income/ability to teach the children?  Is it the more romantic notion of being able to have long discussions and never running out of discursive matter?  I know many wives (well, duh) who fill the role in so many different ways that I feel any written definition of wife-ness would be too simplistic or too broad to have any meaning at all – but what of the wife expectation?  

I don’t like expectations – they make me nervous.  And I don’t think I would like being told that I was more than anyone imagined – I don’t like the concept of being predefined into a dreamed-of role.  And as much as my above ramblings are full of assumptions of male dominance and paternal-centricity, I guess I’m not a fan of the need for gender-centricity at all (as much as I, were I to be at market, would only be shopping for those not of my gender)?  And to top off the contradictions, I think nothing less of those who, like Julia Stiles’s character in Mona Lisa Smile, choose or excel or create the role of housewife (a glance around my apartment shows my incredible lack of abilities in the field of keeping house).  And wouldn’t it be nice to be a pedestal wife (not a trophy, mind you), and get to read all day…but oh, the boredom!  

But, as I read, many “educated wives” have no luxury with education.  Their education wrongs them – they have been thinking too much to comply without contribution to thought.  And what of those to have not the “education”, but still the ability to question, however silently?  It makes me wonder…

And it makes me realize that, as much as I may never marry, I’m also not a packaged deal, complete with dowry.  I’m not to marry for unions of clans or for business (oh Kahn).  Were I to marry, it might be for none of the previous ideas, expectations, roles…might it be for love, not convenience?  Might I, someday, be an “educated wife” with an “educated husband” of my own (already I’m beating myself for using a possessive, but I’m really not feeling like semanticizing it into some other non-ownership turn of phrase)?  I am in a position of tremendous personal freedom, which I value (but do others?), but where am I caught?  In my head, of course.  

Oh come away, come away (clap)

So.  Today was a loooong day.  It all started when…

I woke up.  It was very cold, and I think my blanket was not completely tucked under my bed.  Very bad, and very cold.  I made a mental note to wear fleece pjs tonight (which I am!  A+ to me).  Obama was all over the morning news, and Frank Deford had some opinion about something (although I think I slept through the first show and was blowdrying through the second).  At around 8:30 I finally dragged myself out of bed, took a shower, made breakfast (yay blueberries!), and settled in for an hour of completely guilty pleasure The Hills watching.  Oh, how I love the early morning brain rot over high protein/high fiber cereal with high anti-oxidant berries.  

Then I blowdried.  It was bliss.  With the right products, my hair is actually really nice, and the routine of roundbrush and hot air is just wonderful.  And, after an hour of air drying, it only takes like 5 minutes.  Went to the law school and printed out all thousand pages of course reading for this semester, hiked to main campus, dined, bothered people, and went to class.  Oh, how I love class.  I LOVE class.  I love it love it love it.  Lots of people from last semester’s courses, and NEW people, and PC is so cool and fun.  I basically want to be her when I grow up.  (very heavy quotes around the grow up).  I’m wicked pumped for a semester of work and thinking.

After class, SH and S? and I chatted.  I mentioned my problem with overquestioning everything and how it makes it sooo hard to focus on anything.  I suppose that I suck at finishing things, and that may be a contributing factor.  THEN I was thinking, and Mr JM came to mind.  I think he addresses stuff the same way I do, with the overquestioning, and once an institution has meaning, being able to break the so-called “rules.”  

I joined gospel choir tonight with SG.  It was funfunfun.  I mean, I think next week I’ll be in sync with the attitude, but it’s fun.  Patience taxing, but nothing like a little good praise-worship in the middle of the week.  Even if it does mean I have to miss Lost.  

And then SG and I had nice talk.  

Today I realized that I really can’t not go to church.  It’s really something that I need.  As much as it’s not too hard to see God EVERYWHERE, it’s nice to have a, at least weekly, reminder of being a member of a larger body (look at me, citing the readings from the last weeks).  To which I shall end:

We are one.  One body.  Many parts.  One body.  God has made…one body.  All of us.  One body.

Beginning of the Semester

Because it appears that I’m incapable of maintaining a paper journal anymore, here goes.

I restrung my guitar a couple of days ago, and last night, I pulled it out and played some camp songs.  It’s alarming how many camp memories come flooding back – opening on picnic hill, how humid and sweaty it was; chapel my first summer, playing with TB and AB; serenades with stars and fireflies…it was a nice way to end the day.

LP, AC, JB, and I went to see The Pursuit of Happyness last night.  What a great movie to see in the midst of worrying about the future stress.  I’m so lucky.  I have friends who would put me up if I ever couldn’t make rent.  I have parents who would (theoretically, though I’m never trying it) take me in if I hit bottom.  I have…well, I have a comfortable life and a nice social network.  Excellent movie, though.  Excellent.  And Tuesday night movie night was surprisingly fun.  

Continuing Saga 1 [getting a job]:

At this point, I have no idea what I want to do “when I grow up”… err, after May.  I want to do something fun and constantly challenging – I really don’t feel fulfilled unless there’s a challenge.  Parts of me want to do something corporate, but I don’t know if that would be fun as much as fodder for thought.  I mean, really, working in an office would so much be all about studying the people I was working with.  You know, after I do my work.  I think I need something stable.  I wish I could be like BEQ and go wild with the travel – teaching in France, randomly traveling eastern Europe and north Africa – but I feel the tug of financial responsibility.  It would be really nice if I could get a PMF somewhere really fun that had that travel.  Or if I could get into the foreign service, I would have so many cool opportunities…  And the benefit of both of those is that they’re both paired with classes and “education”, so I could keep schooled.  

But what if I did something less conventional?  What if I found a job that didn’t have an office?  What if I found brilliant, fun, enjoyable employment somewhere I’m not looking?  I guess it’s all about getting over my fear of writing cover letters and just getting out there.

Continuing Saga 2 [writing the thesis]:

At this point, I have about 14 hours of interviews to still write up.  Then code.  Then start thinking about.  I think that’s probably something I need to finish for Friday, so I can have the weekend to do reading and start framing my analysis.  And then time to get more interviews…  Another thing I have to put myself out there for.  BUT I’ll shoot for Monday for hitting up everyone I know/every listserv I know/every posting board I know for interviews.  I neeeeeeed to get all this data done by February.