The Vine: July 22, 2003
Dear Sars,
Love the site, you rock, et cetera. I have a load of problems I probably should be writing to you about, but I digress. I’m just writing in response to Mrs. Sweetie’s letter. I was going over old TN essays when I came across one called “Like, Shut Up!” in which you wrote, and I quote (hee! That rhymed):
And as for calling me “honey,” or “sweetie,” or “baby,” or any other completely inappropriate term of endearment that incorrectly assumes you actually know me, I have a name.
You seem to not find it that big a deal anymore. I was just wondering, what changed?
Signed,
I’m With Mrs. Sweetie, Least, and 1998 Sars
Dear With,
The letters I’ve answered about the issue in the last few days concerned the use of endearments in a professional or service-oriented setting, which it just would not occur to me to get annoyed by. A number of the people I regularly come into contact with in sales or service circumstances call me “hon” or “sweets,” and while we don’t know each other properly speaking, we do know each other by sight or from numerous phone calls, and I look at “hon” as their way of recognizing our friend-ly relationship, even if we don’t know one another’s names or go out for pints together. I come in the post office, I go up to Window Eight, the woman says, “How ya doin’, hon,” and it’s nice that she remembers me.
The quotation you cite, on the other hand, has a different context — that of getting catcalled on the street (and the rest of the paragraph the quotation comes from makes that clear, I think). A leering “sweetie” from a guy on the sidewalk is entirely different from the issue under discussion here, namely the relative professionalism of addressing colleagues or clients as “sweetie.” I still think it’s ick when a guy on the street goes, “Hey, sweetie, do those legs go all the way up?” because, in that context, “sweetie” really means “piece of meat,” and in that regard, nothing has changed; I considered that a douchebag move back in ’98, and I still do. But if the owner of the salon where I get my hair done says, “Hey, sweetie, we haven’t seen you in a while,” that doesn’t bother me, because we do know each other slightly and he’s just offering me a warm greeting.
It’s the difference between outright sexual harassment from a stranger, and well-meant informality between acquaintances that may not conform to everyone’s concept of mannerly conduct. The former is unacceptable, and few would argue otherwise. Calling a work contact “hon,” on the other hand, is not as black-and-white; it’s more a matter of personal preference, and whereas the original author found it sexist and unprofessional, I think it’s really minor to the degree that I don’t even notice it.
I hope that answers your question.
C&C’s comments, along with your own, have me wondering. What DOES one do with the ring in a called-off-engagement situation? Not that it’s going to affect me any time soon, but I’m now curious. What should Tacky Tommy have done with the ostentatious finger decor? Assuming that it was expensive, does he just eat that cost and buy another for his next fiancée? Do jewelry stores give refunds for a “we broke up” deal? Is it like end-of-semester textbook buybacks? I’m assuming that he paid for it by himself, since she considered it his property post-relationship.
Curious and Unaffianced
Dear C&U,
Keeping in mind that I only have an academic interest in engagement rings, and would politely decline one given to me in favor of spending the money on furniture…I really have no idea. I believe it’s black-letter etiquette law that the former bride-to-be returns the ring unless 1) she paid for it herself or 2) it’s an heirloom from her own family, in which case she gets to keep it. (Many people think, incorrectly, that the bride may keep the ring if the groom is the one to break the engagement. Not true, although recent years have seen a number of court cases addressing that very issue.) After that, though, I haven’t the faintest. I feel for Tacky Tommy regarding the expense, but the fact remains that he originally picked out that ring for a specific woman, and that that woman isn’t the one now wearing it, which…yuck.
I tooled around on Google for a while, looking for a more clear-cut answer. Wedding Village says that the former groom-to-be “may” return the ring for reimbursement or credit, but doesn’t answer the question of whether he can expect a full refund, or anywhere close. Miss Manners isn’t illuminating on the subject either.
I imagine that reputable jewelry dealers offer a window of time, during which you can get a larger portion of your money back if you return the ring due to a cancellation, but I just don’t know. Regardless…too bad for Tacky Tommy. I think he should sell the ring for as much money as he can manage and buy a “fresh” one for the new fiancée no matter what, but perhaps the readership can enlighten me as to the standard course of action here.
(And another question…if he had offered C&C a family ring, should he offer the same ring to his new fiancée? Do heirlooms receive an exemption? It seems like they would, but I don’t know why I think that.)
I have a minor problem. Not so much a problem, really, mostly just an incongruency that makes me angry and I want to rant about it.
I am a senior in high school, and am eagerly awaiting graduation. This may be the cause of my apathy and jadedness, but either way, here goes: I go to possibly the worst school in the U.S. Not because it is dangerous, or even poor, but because it is worthless. There is no ethnic, social, or political diversity whatsoever, and it is intellectual torture to come every day, but that is not the point.
The point is, the students in this school are getting cheated out of an eductation. The teachers are essentially (not all but most) worthless, the school board is crooked, there are no available classes for seniors to take, and I am sitting here waiting to graduate with two assistant hours, a work release, and band because we DON’T ALLOW early graduation, but that’s beside the point. The actual problem is when I tried to do something about it.
I told my parents that I was going to be a teacher, and explained to them why, and pointed out what was wrong with our school…and this is what they told me: “You’re being idealistic, you’re 18, of course you know everything. It’s all easy to talk about your hopes and goals, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t think are right to get ahead/make money/be successful, et cetera.” This came about because I refused to go to a school board meeting so that the human wasteland of a superintendent could take credit for my National Merit award. I agree it was a bit immature and petulant, but hell, they didn’t contribute a thing to what we accomplished, so whatever, blah blah blah fishcakes.
My parents told me that I should go, even if I felt it was unfair and ludicrous, et cetera. Just like they told me that they didn’t think that teaching was such a hot idea, because I would be poor, and have state standards and administration to deal with. I think this is a bit ludicrous coming from a correctional lieutenant and a nurse that both hate their jobs and don’t seem overly happy with their lives. Plus, aren’t parents supposed to encourage moral uprightness? Just a thought.
I am really frustrated, because no matter what I say I can’t convince them that even though I am only 18, I know what I want to do. I just wondered if you had any words of advice/encouragement or whatnot.
Thanks,
Confused and uneducated
Dear Confused,
Well, high school is frequently a waste of time for everyone involved, and parents frequently hear what they want and nothing else. Facts of life, my friend. Graduate high school, go to college, get a job, pursue your own goals. Your parents won’t support everything you do, but they don’t have to, and if you find happiness teaching, who cares? And if you try it and you don’t like it and they say “we told you so,” again — who cares?
You don’t have to convince your parents that it’s a good idea for you to go into teaching. You just have to go do it. Everyone’s a hypocrite at one time or another, so learn now not to let it get to you.
Sars,
Please please please put me in The Vine. I’m going nuts here and I think you could really give me some good advice.
Okay, for the past two years I’ve wanted to go to this amazing school in Europe. It has everything I want and more. I’ve thought about it constantly and wanted nothing more than to attend said university. I had paraphernalia, the university’s website was my homepage, I was going to the library to research the school, everything. I knew, however, that I wouldn’t be able to come close to affording it (it would’ve been about $25K Canadian a year, which is out of the question for my single-parent household) without this Big-Ass Scholarship, so I worked my ass off. Phenomenal grades, tons of extra-curriculars, volunteering, fantastic essay, excellent reference letters…basically, I was Rory plus Paris times Jesus.
Well, I got the Paris end of the stick recently when the head of the BAS selection committee sent me a form letter telling me that I did not make the short list. It was, to put it mildly, a major blow. I was completely gutted. My friends didn’t really care, though, because they were all content to go to local schools with their average marks.
(It is at this point that I realize I’m coming off as an asshole. I’m really not, but you gotta understand that not getting the BAS pretty much devastated me and I really thought I would get it, or at least make the goddamn short list!)
Anyway, I picked up the pieces and applied to a ton of schools in my province, i.e. my backups and the ones my family really wanted me to go to. I got into every single one. There’s Prestigious University, with an undoable price tag of about $16K/year; Mediocre University, with a shitty location and even worse academic credentials; and three local Decent Universities that I could drive to and stay at home. I accepted my offer for Decent University #3, a tiny school (800 students) with the best reputation of the three. It’s a liberal arts university affiliated with a large university known for its awesome engineering and math programs (basically, it’s M.I.T.’s nerdier Canadian brother). It’s got a few things going for it, but I’m still hung up on the loss of my BAS.
Now it’s summer, and all the mediocre students with averages twenty points lower than mine have gotten into Decent University #3. This doubly pisses me off, because it’s like, well, fuck. I worked hard to get the BAS, didn’t get it, and now I’m pretty much stuck at DU3 with morons who coasted these past four years. I don’t really begrudge anyone success, but — well, no. I do begrudge them success because I feel like I worked so hard for nothing.
How can I a) get over losing the BAS and b) learn to love DU3 by this fall?
Thanks so much,
Bitter(ly Disappointed)
Dear Bitter,
You find something at DU3 that drives you the way the BAS did — something you really care about doing, something that grabs your interest and won’t let go — and you go after that. And with time, you realize that life has a way of putting you where you belong, and you get over it.
It’s good to want things really badly, to bust ass trying to get them, to hope; even when it’s hard or a long shot to get, you should still go after it. But at the same time, it’s important to manage your expectations, which you’ve had to learn the hard way. In your single parent’s place, I might have seen the homepage thing and suggested that maybe you broaden your focus — not expect disappointment, because that’s no way to live, but just prepare for it a little bit.
Still, no help for it now — you didn’t get in, and the second part of the lesson here is to learn not to spend too much time comparing yourself to other people. You worked hard, you got hosed; others coasted and got the same “reward.” It’s not fair, but it’s how it goes a lot of the time, unfortunately. Aim at your own happiness and keep shooting until you hit it, and don’t base that happiness on what other people get up to. Do your own thing. Do your best.
You had your own thing and you did your best to get it. It didn’t work out, but it’s still worth having done. Try to think of it that way.
Dear Sars,
I’m writing to you because I can’t ask anyone else. Also, I’m writing because you seem to give level-headed advice and I am anything but objective when it comes to this problem.
On Monday, my brother emailed me to say that he had gotten engaged over the weekend. I wasn’t sure what to say. I fired back a congratulations-type letter that, while brief, was enthusiastic. Since practically forever, we’ve had a good relationship. We seem like the perfect siblings. I have become skilled at creating that appearance. The vast majority of the time, I am almost able to believe that I do feel positively about him.
We have a history, however. When I was a child, up until I was 10 or 11 and he was 15 or 16 — about seven years — he did things to me. It was never super-ultra-serious stuff. Not even close to sealing the deal, I don’t think. It was still somewhat abusive, though. It stopped. I don’t know why, other than that the last major episode was pretty harrowing. Once I went to college, I worked through it as much as anyone can. Throughout all of those years, I acted as if everything was kosher and that we were the best of friends. I dread holidays, but the rest is all right.
So now he is getting married and I don’t know what to do. I can’t help thinking that he could have children. I know he wants them. There is some possibility that his future wife won’t be able to get pregnant due to fibroids and endo, partially removing the risk. The only idea I have is to become the perfect aunt if a child is born. Maybe I could convince the future child to have a tell-everything relationship with me. That seems optimistic, as I doubt we will ever live in the same state.
I feel like this is the beginning. If he has a child and hurts it, then it’s my fault. If I told people, I don’t think they would believe me. The strength of our relationship is his best defense to the accusation. That, and the problem that I lied a lot as a child. It would also hurt my relationship with our parents. On the other hand, maybe that is my cross to bear — losing our parents, I mean. The other problem is that I could be accusing someone who won’t do it again. He was only a child and teenager and he did stop. I might understand better if I knew why he stopped (or even why he started). I’ve considered confronting him, but I’m not sure he is a safe person to confront.
I had finally gotten to the point where I felt almost normal in our relationship. Now this. Sars, please help. I don’t know what to do.
Sick With Worry
Dear Sick,
Wow. Okay, I really don’t know what to tell you, except that I think you need to deal with the repercussions of the abuse for yourself, in therapy, before you consider confronting your brother or telling your parents or any of that. You need to get right with yourself about what happened and to get into a space where you can tell the truth to your family if you need to, regardless of the consequences. But the key is to focus on yourself first.
I say that because two things strike me about your letter — first, the way you downplay the seriousness of what happened. I understand why you might do that, because that way you don’t have to admit to yourself that an awful, unjust, scary thing happened to you, but whether or not you and your brother had intercourse isn’t the point. The point is that a family member you trusted abused you, for years, and — the second thing that strikes me — your parents apparently knew nothing about it, which I don’t quite understand. Kids lie, sure, but when a kid is known for lying, something’s going on, something else. Your brother did things to you for seven years, for God’s sake. Your parents didn’t see or suspect anything wrong?
If I were you, I’d hate them for that, and for making me feel like they wouldn’t believe me or support me if I told them. I’d hate them, and I’d hate my brother, and maybe you do hate them and maybe not, and I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t. I’m just saying that you need to think about yourself for awhile. Don’t worry about your brother’s future children yet; don’t worry about your parents’ reaction. You’ll figure out what to do eventually. But before that can happen, I think you need to see a counselor, or join a support group, or whatever it takes to work through that part of your past.
You’ve spent all this time and energy trying to hold it together for the family. The family doesn’t deserve that effort, to my mind. Do what you need to do for yourself.
[7/22/03]
Tags: etiquette the fam