Tag: Behavior

A Lesson In Snobbery

 
“I’m a lady, dammit.”
– C.

Occasionally J. teases that I’m a snob, and I can’t really get offended by it because it’s sort of true.  For example… 

Let me explain the problem...c'est ne pas la mot juste. And your tenses are wrong. That's all.

I always prefer quality to quantity when it comes to buying things, I’d rather spend more on something that will last me longer than less on something that will fall apart or go out of fashion in the near future.  I’m a bit of a stickler for grammar (I spent a good hour last night proof-reading the group project J. and co. has been working on all term and it practically bled red ink by the time I was done.  The whole time I was muttering things like, “Double spaces between sentences, I don’t care what Twitter culture says!” and “Passive voice, be gone!”  Suddenly I have an insight into the power trip that can be editing, being a writer by comparison seems very tame).  

I think women should wear nice gloves in cold weather, and that fashion might change but style is eternal, so stock up on the classics.  Feminist though I may be, I think a man should be taught from a young age to open doors and pull out chairs, if for no other reason than it reflects well on his mother.  I, very snobbishly, turn up my nose at ostentatious (read: ugly) houses and think that people who buy things just for the sake of buying them and showing off are sad, sad individuals.    

I also think that people should adhere to dress codes, both those printed on invitations and those coming from conventional wisdom (I am especially irritated by people who show up to wedding receptions in jeans and will judge you for doing so).  Pearls always work, and unless something designed by Harry Winston is required for an extremely special occasion, simple diamond studs are all you need.  Less is more.  Politeness is important and anyone who says otherwise is just justifying their own bad behavior.  

I have this problem. I admit it.

This is not to say I don’t have lapses, some of them grievous, from this creed (see above quote).  But I maintain that they are eternal truths to be abided by.  I also have  a snobbish habit of calling people “peasants” when they’re doing something foolish, weird, or distasteful.  In my defense, I picked that up from my most lady-like friend Marie! 

So, knowing that I am a bit of a snob…what do you think my opinion of Walmart is?  To boil it down, any place capable of producing a website like this should be avoided at all costs.  However, situations do arise in which Walmart must be braved and one befell us last night.  

Whilst setting up J. and my collective Christmas present to ourselves (more on that later.  Suffice it to say, I am a very awesome wife), we both were struck with fits of paranoia: me for the physical safety of our fabulous presents, being a klutz with an awful propensity for knocking things over, and J. for the general safety of everything we own, as our deadbolt lock is a pretty pathetic lump of warped metal.  And so, seeing as the nearest home improvement store was closed and the next closest store was Walmart and it was nearly 10pm already, off we went for locks, screws, and nylon. 

...or at least your self-respect.

During our 20 minute sojourn one (full-grown) man let out a five second belch from the next aisle that reverberated throughout the framing and mounting section.  One university-age boy sauntered in wearing what I think was a nylon head-to-toe jumpsuit covered with a tree motif (which I would have assumed was for hunting if it were not for the vivid coloring – not hunter colors, by the way).  Another boy strolled past wearing tie-dye cut off short shorts and extremely bad facial hair.  I saw some spoiled fruit, one mullet, and one girl with pants drooping so low as to, er, let it all hang out.  

Yep, I’m a snob.  And I will not be going back to Walmart again for some time.

Girls Interupted

We judge others by their behavior.  We judge ourselves by our intentions. 
-Ian Percy

Ever since taking that personality test I’ve been thinking about personal strengths and weaknesses, and have come to some interesting conclusions.

So...being a lady is a bad thing...
So...being a lady is a bad thing...

Recently I was talking to my dear friend Marie who has endured a hellish past two years, rife with all sorts of problems from the medical to the personal.  She’s doing much better now (from an outsider’s perspective at least) and last monday in particular the girl got empowered.  She got good and mad at her situation for the first time in a long time, got a bunch of people in line where they were slacking, and generally went about setting the world to rights.  She says this is out of character for her, and to a degree that’s true, but what really flummoxed me was that she said she was angry at herself for ever having been a “pushover” in her situation (incidentally, not a word that springs to my mind to describe this woman).  In fact, the thing that I’ve always admired most about Marie is her poise: the way she seemed to handle adversity with grace, gentleness, and quiet determination.  I never thought that what I saw as a real strength would be something she saw as a major life obstacle!

...and being an Ice Queen is...good?  HUH?
...and being an Ice Queen is...good? HUH?

But then I considered myself.  Quite a few people recently have told me that they admire my “assertiveness,” “strong will,” and “boldness,” but that aspect of my personality is always something I’ve had mixed feelings about.  I developed a rather aggressive, stand-offish (in some ways) personality to defend myself when no one else in my life seemed able to, to take care of myself when I was well and truly on my own.  I’ll be the first to admit that this forcefulness–not to say intractability– has literally saved my sanity a few times (plus getting a waiter’s attention in any restaurant in Europe would be impossible without it), but that I don’t necessarily like it.  Being bold and appearing confident can be useful, but it can also be abrasive (it earned me the nickname Ice Queen in high school: sometimes it was said with odd admiration, sometimes is wasn’t) .  But still people can like this aspect of me, this facet of my personality that I am sometimes grudgingly thankful for, sometimes outright dislike, but am always willing to use.

Maybe it isn’t too odd that what we see as our greatest weaknesses other see as our greatest strengths.  In the end, we’re probably both right.