I'm as girly as a girl can get.
I love clothes. My make-up collection is, umm, abundant. OK, it's freaking huge, so what? If you catch me without a pedicure, know that something is very, very wrong. I enjoy doing interesting things with my hair.
Wanna see me have fun? Watch me plan, shop for, cook and serve a lavish meal to people I care about. I can sew, crochet and knit. I even get excited when I find the "Magic Sponge" 2-packs at the dollar store.
If you are a man who does not hold a door open for me, know that you have reserved your very own seat in the "friends only" section of my life.
I like to giggle and flirt and wear sexy shoes. I have tiny lapdogs. OK?
I most definitely enjoy being a girl.
But I must be missing a gene, which you seem to have in spades. I'm not complaining. I have a feeling this lack is somehow tied into my prowess with power drills, belt sanders and other assorted household tools. Also, when I come across an uninvited guest in the form of a bug, I calmly scoop it into a cup and take it outside. No screeching or squishing required. (If you stomp on that critter, do you think you are making any sort of dent in the thriving bug population in your environment? You're not.) So, I'm quite happy without this particular womanly/hormonal/chromosomal thing.
You know what I'm not happy with? Your incessant, relentless, interminable, unremitting, ad nauseum monologues about your significant other. Oh, the conversation may start innocently enough, but it's only a matter of (brief) time before you get that coy look on your face and, holy-one-note-samba, Batman! We're knee deep in another pointless narrative about your "sweetie".
Let me put it as plainly as I know how.
I don't care. I am not interested. I don't give a crap.
It is simply common courtesy which prevents me from getting up and walking out of the room every time you open your mouth to speak.
You are a grown woman. Do you have NOTHING ELSE going on in your life? Really?
There is something I haven't been able to figure out, though.
What the hell do you talk about when you're with Prince Charming?
I was seeing a woman a couple of years ago who always talked and talked about me to her friends and family.
ReplyDeleteBy the time I met these people, she had talked me up so much even I wanted to meet me.
Ultimately it was destructive because it had nothing to do with me or our relationship, but her intense need to compete with her sisters and friends. No thank you.
Conversely, those who complain about and bash their sweetie to others constantly are fooling themselves if they think they’re only venting.
Every negative (and no doubt exaggerated) thing said slowly and permanently alters the relationship until it’s finally crosses the line of no return. No thank you.
I think love’s highs or disappointing lows are best treated as mostly a private thing (but not necessarily a secret).
So I agree with you Mustard. It’s very annoying to have someone smugly trying to sell you on the good or bad of their relationship. It’s probably masking something anyway.
I think what it's probably masking is a desire to lose oneself in someone else's life, and therefore not having to actively engage in and be responsible for your own accomplishments.
ReplyDeleteThe thing that really gets my goat (and kind of goes hand in hand with the topic of this post) is when a given friend will suddenly fall off the face of the earth as soon as she is hooked up with a man, and then reappear after the breakup. I tend to weed these people out.
If you have to complain about your significant other to someone outside the relationship (an act that disrespects you, the other and the relationship itself), stick a fork in it, it's done.