In Response

I don’t even know where to begin. Breathe…okay. I know “anonymous’” comment wasn’t malicious, but that way of thinking is exactly why this issue exists. Yes, a lot of women eventually redirect their goals towards family, BUT not all women do. Just because we have a uterus, doesn’t mean we automatically have a maternal instinct. Apparently, “once you have a husband and child of [your own, your priorities] completely change and you finally realize in that moment that your life's ambition is your family”…and if your world never revolves around your hubby and kid then society makes you out to be a debauched monster. Okay, maybe “monster” is severe, but you will endure a lifetime of pity looks and “why don’t you have kids, are you barren?” When faced with that, no wonder so many successful women give into the pressures of marriage and family.

And Kris…based on your experiences, your assessment of what men want is accurate. HOWEVER, you must consider the type of guy you usually go for – being the extremely successful, financially-fortunate type. What do those guys have in common? Can you say control issues? (there I go typecasting again) They obviously enjoy the company of a smart successful woman, but when it comes to holy matrimony, they’re looking towards Stepford. Speaking from the other side of the tracks, from someone who dates more of the financially-challenged type, if I told 85% of my past boyfriends that I wanted to be a “stay-at-home”, they’d laugh in my face…"you be the bread winner, baby. If you ain’t working how are we going to afford all my Nintendo games?” Just kiddin’, I don’t date losers…much.

I’ll get off my soapbox now. The truth is I think raising a family is amazing and admirable. It’s just in my nature to get fired-up at the mere mention of women’s progression being stifled. I must have burned a lot of bras in a past life.

Boys Don’t Cry

I had an interesting conversation the other day. It involved analyzing relationships from the male and female perspective. I made the comment that I usually agree with/relate to the boy’s point of view. Apparently, this is because I’m a “guy-girl.” No, I’m not a hermaphrodite; I’m just bewildered by the lack of logic behind most female opinions/actions.

Until college I could count the amount of girls I ever liked on one hand. Most girls didn’t share my passion for tackle-soccer, and whenever I attempted friendship I would receive oddly folded notes asking why I talked to Kelly more than Jen at lunch. Boys made more sense, plus I could make-out with them…best of both worlds.

The person I had this gender convo with, who happens to be male, said “guy-girls” can’t be trusted. Mmmm…Insulting, yet interesting. I consider myself pretty damn trustworthy, but he has a point. “Guy-girls” are exposed to the worst of the worst. Girls, when you think you know the bad things guys say about you, multiply it by 10 and you might be close. This extreme exposure has caused irreversible damage. Since I know what [“most” – wouldn’t want to typecast ALL men] guys say and do behind their loving girlfriend’s backs, I feel justified in doing the same behind theirs’.

I’ve lost the thing *most* girls come equipped with: ignorance.

Crossing the line

so SO wrong...but effing hilarious.

Isolated T-Storms

Atlantans have been dealing with some turbulent weather as of late. We’ve been enduring monsoon-like conditions at least once a day. I know the tropics and Caribbean have rain showers once a day, but an hour of rain is bearable when you’re surrounded by crystal blue waters and cabana boys. Atlanta is packed-full of northerners who are huge babies about the weather; being able to wear flip-flops March through October is why we live here. So when we’re forced to deal with unfavorable conditions, we get a bit temperamental. If there is a spec of rain, Atlantans will spend 2 hours in traffic and then lock themselves in their homes. Because what’s the use of socializing if it isn’t sunny out. I have to imagine all this bad weather causes a strain on area businesses…I mean just last night, as I was being lulled to sleep by the start of a torrential down pour, the only thing louder than the raindrops were the screaming transvestite hookers running for cover. Gotta love midtown. I’ll miss them when we move in TWO weeks.

***
In other business, we’ll be in Pittsburg this weekend for our roommate’s wedding. Wish us luck, we’ll need it…especially shan – she has to read during the ceremony. waahaha.

cool/not cool

Alright, time to detail the Destin trip. What could have been a long-weekend of drunken debauchery, turned out to be rather low-key, yet enjoyable; consequently I give you “cool/not cool, and account of Memorial Day Weekend 2005”…

Not cool: We get on the highway and I realize I forgot my cell. TURN AROUND. Get back on the highway and I neglected to notice when 75/85 split. TURN AROUND. Continue on the correct highway.
Cool: Despite my early-morning-retardation, it only took us five hours to drive there - and between our lengthy/random discussions, and our interpretations of every song that came out of the speakers, it felt like no time at all.
Not cool: We quickly discover the “cool” place to be (Sandestin hotel) is guarded like Fort Knox.
Cool: The beach is frickin’ beautiful – green/blue water! This is a great luxury for anyone who usually is subjected to the cesspool that is the Atlantic Ocean.
Not cool: The beach is really short (that statement is misleading)…meaning, from the street to the water is about as long as two horizontal Yao Mings.
Cool: We find an obscure hotel that has one more available room.
Not cool: The room was $130 a night. The “Destin Inn” was nicer than expected, but it was undergoing renovations and certainly was not worth $130. That’s economics for you, supply and demand; we were demanding to not sleep in a sand-covered civic, and they were supplying overpriced beds.
Cool: We go to the local night attraction, “AJs”. We slurped down some oysters, drinks and played a game of “check-each-other-out” with the guys a few tables away…the night appeared to have potential.
Not cool: All of a sudden the bar was overtaken by bachelorette parties and ‘bamans. I’m sure people from Alabama are very nice, but the accents. The accents! Anyway, cute boys didn’t have the testes to approach, and we were annoyed by our surroundings so we left…and went to bed.
Cool: Covert Mission: Infiltrate Sandestin is a success.
Not Cool: Apparently, there are about 10 Sandestin hotels within a 15 block stretch – we infiltrated the wrong end. Instead of joining the rocking beach party, we joined the Kradinksy’s for a wild game of shuffle board.
Cool: An odd maintenance man appeared out of nowhere and hooked us up with a free parking pass for the entire weekend. I thought we at least owed him one sexual favor, but Kris frowned upon that.
Not cool: We try to avoid the masses by going to Pizza Hut for dinner and still wait an hour. This is around the time we decided to not go out that night. (you can disregard my “25 going on 18” post, I meant “25 going on 65”)
Cool: Despite our anti-socialism we still buy vodka for the hotel, get shitty, and have naked pillow fights all night long (I may or may not have fabricated that last part…just trying to keep the male readers happy).
Not cool: Crazy-man and his family decide to create a sand memorial right next to our beach chairs; it was intense – American flag in a large mound of sand with a laminated list of veterans displayed, AND the words “Freedom is not Free” written in the sand. Best part, crazy-man had some red liquid (my guess, he pricked his children’s fingers) and colored in the word “Free”. So all day passersby assumed we created this radical war monument. Awesome.
Cool: no speeding tickets, no arrests, no piercings or tattoos, no fights (besides the naked/pillow variety), a lot of rest, tan bods = fabulous weekend.