3.24.07

Time for another post, I suppose. I apologize for my erratic-ness. I write on a whim, and, to quote Hannah, when I have time to write a short novel.

As I investigate the available boys around me, I find they fall into two categories: the good boys, and the bad boys. Profound statement, I know. You can thank me for changing your life later. “That’s not rocket science, idiot. Open up any girl magazine and you’ll see that written on at least 10 of the 150 pages,” you say. Valid point. But Kyla the Dullard is just realizing the truth to that statement. So my question is this – why is it that we’re attracted to the bad boys?

First, let’s define the differences between this dichotomy of men. Obviously, you’d want to take your good boy home to the parents, out with friends, etc. (He sounds more like an accessory than a significant other in that definition. Maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe he just acts like social security, so you can prove stability and good judgment to others.) He values studying over partying, avoids unnecessary conflict, just an all around nice guy. “Really? So he’s a nice guy? Thanks for clearing that up, I couldn’t have guessed that from the title.” Alright, Alright. I’m not trying to win any literary awards with this blog. Now for the bad boy. Rides a motorcycle, wears a leather jacket, and picks you up late…and wasted. Just kidding. He’s the guy who provokes fights, thinks ruining others people’s property is funny and appropriate repayment, is a master at weaving arrogance and jerk-ness into everything he says and does. He’s the guy who goes to jail for two months, and when he crashes his car says, “shit happens”. Hey, where’d that come from?

So why is it that we end up dismissing a boy who bought his own car for someone who doesn’t even have a checking account? They say that women like the chase. Alright, I will allow this statement. Granted, there’s a chase involved with getting the bad boy. But when does the chase-ee (I’m making up a lot of words today) become simply unattainable? Alas, this does not deter us. Why? Blame the person who taught you to work, unremittingly, for what you want. At the end of the day, what do you get with all your hard work? 13 sweet memories and 86 memories where you think of him fondly…as an asshole?

So what’s the point? Maybe we should change direction and start broadening our horizons to the nice boys. So maybe you’ll have to ride in a midsized sedan instead of a sports car. But what’s so wrong with a little more safety? At the end of the day, isn’t that really what we want?