Guy Girl
Most people would think I'm kind of a girly-girl. I paint my nails. I hate camping. I have too many shoes, too many hair products and too many holiday towels. Although my mother bought me most of those--I don't know that I would actually ever purchase white hand towels with Rudolph sewn on them with gold thread myself.
But I'm a guy's girl, too. I like college football. I'd just as soon drink beer as wine (particularly if the wine is pink). I know what Orvis sells. I'd never buy anything from there, but I know what they've got. I've held a handgun at Gander Mountain and considered purchasing it. Except that's a lot of shoe money. I used to be the only girl invited to Cave Man dinners in college, where everything was eaten by hand and no actual speech was allowed. I own Gettysburg and watch it all the time. I love Rudy even though I hate Notre Dame. I watch tattoo shows and motorcycle shows and shows on the fall of the Roman Empire. I got a black eye playing football at last year's Michigan-Michigan State football game.
That's why the past few months have been so weird for me. I've always had a big circle of guy friends. And I've always had one or two specific guys to hang out with, to go watch football with, to call if I got tickets to something. These weren't always guys I was dating. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But I always had someone I could call, someone's March Madness pool I could get into.
Right now, I don't have that. I've gotten to a particular point in my life. Most of these guys I hung out with are married. And that's great, because I honestly doubted that most of them would ever live this long, much less find someone to put up with their crap and actually procreate with them. But, on the flip side, they've got kids to take care of, parent-teacher conferences to go to, trips to the in-laws, etc. Wives don't look particularly kindly on their husband's single female friend, especially if the friend encourages beer-drinking.
Or, the guys are divorced and busy chasing 20-year-old tail. And there's nothing particularly wrong with that, either. Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, I suppose.
However, that leaves me without buddies. No guys to just hang out with, grab a beer with--without them thinking that I'm looking for a husband or a date for New Years or even a few magical stolen moments in the parking lot.
I miss my guys, I guess is what I'm trying to say. And I don't know where to find them.
But I'm a guy's girl, too. I like college football. I'd just as soon drink beer as wine (particularly if the wine is pink). I know what Orvis sells. I'd never buy anything from there, but I know what they've got. I've held a handgun at Gander Mountain and considered purchasing it. Except that's a lot of shoe money. I used to be the only girl invited to Cave Man dinners in college, where everything was eaten by hand and no actual speech was allowed. I own Gettysburg and watch it all the time. I love Rudy even though I hate Notre Dame. I watch tattoo shows and motorcycle shows and shows on the fall of the Roman Empire. I got a black eye playing football at last year's Michigan-Michigan State football game.
That's why the past few months have been so weird for me. I've always had a big circle of guy friends. And I've always had one or two specific guys to hang out with, to go watch football with, to call if I got tickets to something. These weren't always guys I was dating. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But I always had someone I could call, someone's March Madness pool I could get into.
Right now, I don't have that. I've gotten to a particular point in my life. Most of these guys I hung out with are married. And that's great, because I honestly doubted that most of them would ever live this long, much less find someone to put up with their crap and actually procreate with them. But, on the flip side, they've got kids to take care of, parent-teacher conferences to go to, trips to the in-laws, etc. Wives don't look particularly kindly on their husband's single female friend, especially if the friend encourages beer-drinking.
Or, the guys are divorced and busy chasing 20-year-old tail. And there's nothing particularly wrong with that, either. Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, I suppose.
However, that leaves me without buddies. No guys to just hang out with, grab a beer with--without them thinking that I'm looking for a husband or a date for New Years or even a few magical stolen moments in the parking lot.
I miss my guys, I guess is what I'm trying to say. And I don't know where to find them.
posted by Miss Head at
5:17 AM
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