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8.16.2010

SOMETIMES WOMEN WIG ME OUT, except Dorothy, my sisters, and possibly Barbara Bush - all political leanings aside:)

I am a woman.  Always have been.  Even though my dad says I was supposed to be a boy and they were going to name me Nathaniel - I surfaced the womb as a girl.    I don't like most things women sometimes like; shopping, scrapbooking, talking about hair & makeup, fashion, home interior parties, getting my nails done, or other various assorted "women" things.  But, I am a girl even though I might be more comfortable doing "man" associated things --being outside, challenging myself mentally and physically, thinking manishly decisively, puttering with tools, home improvement projects, being real at face value and loving bacon (yes the meat from a pig).  Women are work (and I am one too)...never getting to the point or giving too much information away too quickly, quick to get stuck on the insignificant trivial droppings that can easily swell into a huge dung pile.  Men are men - they are who they are sometimes unashamedly.  Women are women with a whole list of what and who they would rather be.  It's both exhausting to be one sometimes and to be around them....Except for Dorothy-queen of irreverence & laughter, my two sisters-reigning soul mates of life and possibly Barbara Bush (not saying I'm a republican) for seeming to be comfortable graying early thus looking older than her husband, always wearing the same pearl necklace (I do too) in every photo shoot and seeming like she might as soon laugh or swear occasionally. 

2 comments:

  1. Us women DO carry around grocery lists of what and who we would rather be and another list of whom we DO NOT want to be, like beauty/talent show judges! I'm working on losing my lists.

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  2. HHmmm...you wear the same pearl necklace??? WHAT is with women?? I too have felt the odd one out on many social situations, whether it was church, or a ladies retreat, wondering what is wrong with me that I don't fit in but rather sit back and think how I would rather go home and cry as to be there pretending. Then I grew up and realized I'm okay w/o all that fluff.
    May irreverance and bacon reign!

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