Until today, the whole car-crashed undead zombie that is my lovelife made no sense to me, or anyone else for that matter. Not alive, but not actually dead either, it just limped along, losing limbs as a matter of course and getting progressively fuglier and fuglier.
Today, however, I was pointed in the direction of Ladder Theory, and like a ray of sunshine cutting through the gloom to light up a new penny lying in the manure, the reasons for the perma-disaster that is my lovelife miraculously became clear. I shan't explain Ladder Theory in full here, because that would deny you the need to go to the site, and that would be just wrong. Instead, let me tease you, minx that I am, with a few flashes of ankle and a promise of cleavage.
Well most guys know that women dig guys with money. Would Donald Trump be fucking models if he wasn't rich? That question is rhetorical. Now I don't even believe this is wrong, I think it is just nature. But I also think women who are this way (and it is almost all of you) should be honest and admit that they are basically whores, and stop saying bad things about the so-called “actual whores” who are just trying to earn an honest living.
Most women read this and say something like, “Well I'm not the average woman because… blah… blah… not true… blah blah… my boyfriend/lover/husband/masseuse was poor… blah… blah.”
If you thought something like this you are very likely the average woman. If you read it and went “Hmmm…” and then you went back to doing physics, then you have a case.
Luckily for me, I read, went 'Hmmm…' and went back to IRC, which is just like physics, so I think I have a case. But anyway…
You can see that a lot of problems can be avoided […] by declaring as soon as possible to a girl that you will not be friends under any circumstances. You can explain that she is too attractive or you can be blunt and say you don't want to bend your “friends” over a table and fuck them, but would rather play poker and go to the races with them, thus disqualifying her from friendship. As long as you are clear. This may scare a girl away. But if it does what would you want with such a skittish little twit anyway?
Intermission
Now, at this point, if you haven't followed the link then now would be a really good time to do so, because I'm about to tell you how all emotional angst (and thus my trainwreck of a lovelife) can be explained by two facets of Ladder Theory – Ladder Disparity and Jumping the Ladder.
Ladder Disparity
This explains almost everything. Essentially, you have placed your intended higher up the ladder than they have placed you on theirs. This disparity is the root cause of every single instance of rejection you or I have ever had.
For guys, the rejection is because they are on the Friends Ladder, instead the Fucking Ladder (also called the 'Real' ladder in Ladder Theory, but real doesn't begin with F, and I like alliteration). For girls, it's because the guy thinks that he can pull someone higher up his Ladder than you are, even if the person that he thinks he can pull is Claudia Schiffer. She exists, therefore there is a real possibility that he may bump into her on the way to work and impress the pants off her, therefore she trumps you. (You're better off without these guys anyway – their grip on reality is gossamer.)
So, when your ex told you 'It's not you, it's me', what they really meant to say was 'It's not you, it's just that you're right at the bottom of my ladder and I think I've got a chance with that new bird in Accounts, so you no longer stand a snowflake's hope in hell of getting your leg over'.
Jumping the Ladder
Jumping the Ladder is when a guy either attempts to, or does, move from the Friends Ladder to the Fucking Ladder, or visa versa. This can happen for a variety of reasons, and causes much angst.
As we saw above, guys trying to move from the Friends Ladder to the Fucking Ladder deliberately often results in rejection. This is a bit crap for you guys, cos you usually have no way of knowing which ladder you're on unless you test it. So, either you give it a shot and risk getting rejected, or you assume you're on the Friends Ladder and learn to live with your frustration.
This is life, and the sooner you guys get to grips with it, the better. Us women have to get to grips with having Claudia Fucking Schiffer on the ladder above us, so fair's fair.
A different sort of problem is caused by guys who actually do manage to move from the Friends Ladder to the Fucking Ladder. Sometimes this happens organically (pun intended, sorry) and when it does, well, it's a lovely thing. Everyone gets an attack of the warm and fuzzies and love blossoms.
Some guys change ladders quite surprisingly, and this can cause Sudden Ladder Jump Shock. It's that getting drunk and snogging your mate only to discover that oh my god he's actually really hawt and why the fuck didn't you spot it before sort of thing. Never actually happens, but theories are all about positing potentialities, and this is one.
Then some guys move from the Friends Ladder to the Fucking Ladder when they really should stay on a portion of the Friends Ladder which I would like to propose is labelled the Not Fucking Available Rung, or the Not Available For Fucking Rung. I think it's pretty clear who goes on this rung – guys who are gay, married (or as good as), or dead.
This is where many of your best friends' boyfriends live and it's where they should stay. For if these men jump the ladder, well, it's a world of pain for all of us, but particularly for those sad sods that have to listen to all the crappy angst it creates.
Of course, if circumstances change, so does the Ladder, and if a guy previously nailed to the NFA Rung has the good sense to see that you're a far better catch, (i.e. if you're further up the ladder than his current shag), then it's only fair to allow movement, but it's still going to be a world of pain for someone. Best avoided.
Finally, there's the awkwardness of a Backwards Ladder Jump, from the Fucking Ladder to the Friends Ladder. This can happen for all sorts of reasons, but usually it's just because the girl has 'gone off' you. That's quite natural – it means that hormone levels have dropped and she's stopped being duped by her ovaries. No need to be offended at all – it's not personal, it's biological.
Actually, that's a lie. It may be because you're a twat, in which case, feel free to be offended all you like.
So, there we have it. Ladder Theory explains all. Many of my disastrous attempts at 'romance' have failed due to the hypotenuse being too bloody long – they're way too high up my ladder compared to where I am on theirs. Well, that's easily fixed – I'll just start ranking all you fuckwits at the bottom. Simple.
Other failures have been down to guilt over someone else's ill-advised attempt to Ladder Jump. Well, that's dealt with easily too. If you Ladder Jump and it goes wrong, that's your fault, not mine. I refuse to be made to feel responsible for the fact I don't want to fuck you.
(This, actually, has been something that has perplexed me immensely over the years. How is it that I feel crap when I get dumped, but I feel crappest when I dump? Screwed. Totally fucking screwed.)
Now I know that I have, in one fell swoop, just destroyed any chance I may ever have had of ever pulling ever again. My life is totally online these days so all potential suitors will at some point swing past this blog and this post will effectively move me from the 'cute blonde bird' category into the 'fucking nutter' category. Which is fine, actually, because I am. I mean, do I have to mention Simon Pegg again in order to prove the point? If you can't take the heat, don't stick your hand in the bunsen burner.
Obviously all theories are open to modification in the light of new data, so if you do have any proposals, please do comment. So long as they're not proposals of marriage.
“Getting your leg over”? That's a new one for me… I'd use it if there was ever a context in which I could get away with it.
*chortle*
Excellent stuff. “How Suw Learned to Stop Worrying and Love…um….something”
The argument is sound. I'd take minor exception with one part of your conclusion, though – if I might propose an alternate ending (call it the DJ MOCC scratch mix):
“My life is totally online these days so all potential suitors will at some point swing past this blog and this post will effectively move me from the 'cute blonde bird' category into the 'fucking nutter' category, except for a tiny minority of rational men, for whom this post will act as a filtering mechanism – shining forth like a bright beacon from Aphrodite; causing them to be instantly smitten and fall swooning at my feet, knowing they have, at last, found their one true love.
“Unfortunately, this tiny minority of men will themselves be either mouth-breathing republicans with a dangerous fetish for Welsh-speaking blonde psycho geek chicks, or moony-eyed married slobs living a minimum of 5000 miles away with no access to expense account travel. So I'm still fucked either way. Or rather I'm not, if you see what I mean…”
You need Escalator of Love. When the rubber handrail moves at a different speed from the step, resulting in stretched tendons and a strange pose which often results with you and your partner lying crumpled in a tangled heap at the outside the women's lingerie department.
Surely the trick is just to knock the ladder down?
Personally, I can't even see the ladder 🙁
quack quack ladder quack quack FLASHES OF ANKLE AND PROMISES OF CLEAVAGE quack quack quack ladder quack quack CLAUDIA SCHIFFER quack quack quack. … reads again and find no Suw Cleavage.
Or were you being all metaphorical?
I have taken up permanent residence on the Friend Ladder. Every woman I know thinks I am lovely, adorable, sweet, a wondrful man, a great friend and there are surely thousands of women out there who would love to be with a man like me… just not them.
… except the occassional unavailable one who lets me do them for a while before retreating back into their unavailability.
So I shall sit here on my rung of the Friend Ladder stewing in inadequacy.
Laddered (and bladdered)? Story of my life too. Lordy lordy, show me where to go from here Suw.. (I'll scratch your hypotenuse if you'll scratch mine).
I think this whole post was just a circuitous excuse to get yourself ranked even higher on Google searches for 'Simon Pegg'. Look, there's you, there's Simon Pegg's ladder and never the twain shall meet. I'm sorry to be harsh, but there it is.
At least never until that talk thing of his you're attending comes up. Which I'm sure will only make this whole obsessive psychotic fad you're on even worse.
Vince
Nich, power and money, mate, that's what you want to aim for. That'll sort you out. 😉
Well, Ulcerface (and what a delighful nick that is), I just don't know. Using Ladder Theory can help you get a grip on why what happens happens, but it's still down to the individual to use the knowledge in order to advance themselves. It's like The Force, but with more squelching.
Um…could it be, perhaps, that part of the problem lies in you characterizing your ambition as the desire to “do” these women…?
Just a wild guess.
Dear all-enlightening Suw, your squelching knowledge is something which us lower-ladder bound males could only wish to emulate. (Re squelching, good or bad, the male view is invariably “nice if you can get it”). Personally, being an ulcerface, my chances are less than the average. On the other hand, if you could squelch in other directions then how about Proposal B : I'll squelch your ulcers if you'll squelch mine ?
And good ?
Yours humbly
If I attained power and money why on earth would I want to give it away to some gold-digging harlot just for the sake of some poontang?
Heheh, me, bitter? Never.
Who said anything about giving it all away? You just dangle it as a tempting morsel of deliciousness…
An interesting offer, Ulcerface. One which does, however, put me off my breakfast. Nothing personal, you understand. It's just the imagery.
You know what Suw, you have a point there. My apologies; hope you managed to keep the breakfast down. Somehow, methinks I had better get myself swabbed up at A&E and return here when things are looking better. (I suppose the excessive chocolate intake hasn't exact helped to keep the facial puss at bay either?). Oh well, such is life… Pass me the vodka.
(Anyone wanna buy a mirror ?)
True. But this is all academic: I will not attain money or power in the forseeable future so I'll have to content myself with one off the wrist.
Y'know, I should never participate in conversations about lurve and relationships because they just make me angry.
I shall go away and think about something nice…
Suw, thanks for this.
Beside the voyeur trip into your psyche, I enjoyed this post because the explanation of them Ladders had me think a bit about, er, this and that…. Wish I hadn't done that bit of reading before going to bed, but it can't be helped now 🙂
Now, where did I put that Time Machine…?
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