on being a girl
I've always been 'one of the boys', a tomboy, you name the way to describe it and that's me. Even as a wee one, I was Daddy's little girl, I'm the youngest of four children (2 boys, 2 girls), BUT that meant I, too, hung around the house in a white undershirt, just like Dad. In the summer, I ran around outside in shorts, no top.
As I've gotten older, not much has changed, except I do wear shirts! I'm still one of the boys, many of my friends are guys, and I prefer spending time hanging with the boys. But it's only until the last few years or so where I've actually started being more of a girl. recently, I've discovered the fun in having the pack of girls, who are true friends, with you can be a benefit sometimes.
I'd never wear pink before, now I can't get enough pink. That I attribute to Jeremy's insistence of me buying the infamous pink coat when we took a trip to the Atlantic City Salvation Army years ago. Never had I received compliments or made heads turn until wearing this coat (or hanging out at Irish bars filled with boys born & raised in Ireland).
I now find myself becoming more and more interested in fixing my hair a certain way, even using a curling iron! And I'm adding a little more makeup to my regime. While I still favor the notion of 'hey, this is what I look like when I wake up in the morning, so deal with it!' It's fun to play around with it all.
Despite all this infusion of girlie-ness or shall I say womanhood, the transition from being 'one of the boys' to becoming an actual entity that those boys I hang with recognize as being a girl-woman-female, etc isn't so easy. This was all triggered when I shared some of my famous homemade chocolate chip cookies with one of the access producers at the television station where I work, and after taking a bite, he commented: 'And you're not married yet?!' He said this, already knowing my coolness factor to begin with, case in point: the fact that I live for music, into sports (and comprehend it), and just a cool gal.....matched with new knowledge of my excellent baking skills, he just figured someone woulda jumped at this by now.
I simply told him I was somewhat baffled by it too, but I'm armed with the knowledge that boys (y'all are boys 'til the day ya die!!!) are idiots! And I mean this is the most endearing, 'here, let me take care of you' sorta way.
maybe the boys are just afraid I'm gonna kick their asses on the playground, even if I'm wearing a dress! and maybe I can let them win sometimes.