Sunday, November 6, 2011

Perfect One, Where Art Thou?

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What’s with women and perfectness. I can’t help but notice all the talks about women and perfect men. Step into a clique of unmarried young women and all you hear will be the bla..bla..blas about that perfect partner. Women just can’t stop talking or fantasizing about the perfect man, who will jump right out of a storybook, come riding on his steed to woo and win them and take them away from the divinity forsaken festering Gehenna the world is becoming to a paradise called perfection. And there they will live happily ever after.

 Everywhere I go, be it out in the world, or on the social networking websites, I am haunted by talks about this mythical creature: the perfect man.  Apparently, every girl is looking for him, and those who have found him, or think they did, are trying to further perfecticize him. Blame those pieces of trashy vampire lit, or whatever is de rigueur in chick lit, but there is no getting away from the perfect-man-syndrome that all your friends are experiencing which ultimately lead to the disease called unhappy-for-life-because-of-irrational-expectations.

I may sound like an irrational prick, but open your Face book and read the wall-posts of happy and unhappy women on your friend-lists. Chances are that you will find at least five to ten posts, depending on how large your friend-list is, every day on topics like men, men’s love for women, their perfectness, and eternal faith that an unmarried women with no boyfriend must have on her stars that one day Prince Charming will come right outta his storybook world and straight up to her, and then they will go together on a junket. All the woman needs to do is to bite on wisdom cookies worth ten-pence and wait. What a load of bollocks!

Even celebrities with dolled-up figures and nose-jobs are looking for the perfect one, waiting, as I like to put it, for him to perform the above mentioned feats. And they seem to be having no luck either. Evidence: all celebrities are either divorced, or unmarried, or (un) happily married. Look at Kim Kardashian. Who thought the K-factor wouldn’t work? The point is, when celebrities with perfect fixings cannot have that perfect man, how can we, normal women with mediocre skin and ample cellulite hope to have him?

But does that mean that we should settle for less? Certainly not. I think we should have the perfect one, only we should specify in solid terms how perfect a person has to be to be called perfect. Or more exactly, what are the qualities that qualify a man as perfect: does he have to have a pair of wings or a long nose to prove he is unique? Ask a women and she would look askance, become positively irked and say all of the following: a perfect man has to be handsome, tall, well-qualified, rich, have to have a nice family, no criminal records, no past girlfriends, he has to love me more than anything in this world, and oh yes, he has to be perfect. I wonder if the speaker listens to how she sounds as she utters any or all of the above mentioned. I am sure she too will feel that such a male partner is found in fiction only, and not in real world. Then why waste your time looking for him? Why not aim a bit low and find slightly imperfect elements available readily in the market. 

And, while we are on the subj, don’t you think that men are also looking for perfection in women the same way as women. The question that rises now is whether women with sky-high expectations of perfectness willing to be all that she expects in the male half of the sketch, save for that past “girlfriend” part of course; however, I am sure a perfect guy won’t mind that eitherJ. The answer to the above question would definitely be a firm negative. We can at first be deluded and emotional and end up loving somebody beyond belief, but then we get our senses back and we distribute our love: part of it goes to regular retain therapy, part to family and friends, part to pets, a only a pizza-part to that man How can we shower all our love on one man, that’s insane, besides we have only so much love to deal with. We can’t afford to put it all in one place. As for past affairs and other important records are concerned, let’s not open that archive, okay?

As we approach the tail-end of this discussion, I suddenly feel the urge of advising all those women who are deluding themselves with visions of false perfectness. I am no expert in this matter, but I always have an opinion, and these days it’s all that matters. So babes, I think perfectness is boring. Think about it: a gal marrying a man and living happily ever after in a perfect citadel of romance. Is there anything more boring than that? With nothing to fight about, no domestic altercations, no differences of opinions you would feel you are living a subnormal existence. Imagine how boring life must have been for Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty!

When writing fiction we are told to keep in mind the fact that hell is interesting; I say when talking about relationships a bit of hell taken in moderation add wonders to the relation. Moreover, there is more fun in perfecting, or rather customizing an imperfect specimen over a life time rather than having an already perfect one delivered on our platter. We will have no use for him.

Finally, when you are hoping to select one gander from a basket full of juicy ones, aim low. Don’t expect your gander will be the best one, or in other words the perfect one.  Do that and we will all shall live happily ever after.

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