As I’ve stated before, R and I have quite a bit in common. In fact, it’s kind of bizarre how we share some strange quirks. But like any two people, I don’t think we’re always exactly on the same page with everything.
Yesterday, R wrote an entry titled “Let's Give the Male Race a Little Credit.” When I read it, I sent her a Gchat that said “I like it… until the end. Not because it’s bad but because I don’t agree at all.”
Girls can, in fact, be pretty terrible. In fact, I have always said I don’t want daughters, because when they get to be around junior high age, they’ll either be cruel, or they’ll be the victims of junior high girl cruelty. Either one makes me too sad.
I’m no man hater. I really like men. I like my male friends, and I like having male more-than friends too. One day I’d even like to marry one and have babies together. As I’ve stated before, I’m old-fashioned when it comes to gender roles.
But I have to stick up for my girls. Men do stupid shit. Women do stupid shit. To me, it’s not a matter of men being evil or women being crazy and manipulative. There are crazy and manipulative people, and there are people who do bad things. Yes, there are certain stereotypes, and there are huge differences between the two sexes. We’re wired differently. I recently read an article about how certain parts of the brain are completely different in men and women. We interpret and respond to situations differently because of our genetic makeup, just as R and I respond differently to things even though we’re both women of the same age and race.
But just because men are traditionally viewed as sex-crazed, insensitive jerks and women are viewed as crazy and manipulative doesn’t make it so. If this were the case, shouldn’t we also believe that all black people are like the characters in Tyler Perry movies?
I am at times manipulative, and at times irrational, and occasionally maybe a little bit crazy. Sometimes I am basically a walking female stereotype. Once, right after a breakup, a male friend came into my room to find me in bed crying while another female friend was saying “S, if you don’t eat anything, I’m not letting you have any alcohol. You have to get out of bed and come to dinner if you want to drink.” The male friend started laughing and called me a “giant ball of vagina.”
Two years later, however, a male friend was going through a tough breakup and asked me to come over. I got to his apartment to find him sitting in the dark crying. Who was the giant ball of vagina now?
So while I think R is an incredibly intelligent woman who enjoys spending her Friday nights in bed eating sushi and watching Hulu as much as I do, I’m going to have to say we disagree on this one.
Love always,
S
Friday, March 26, 2010
Seekingly Everlasting Love-- Or Not.
I can admit it-- when I'm commuting to work and need an easy read, I always open up People.com. It's fun, it's simple, and it's often very juicy. But sometimes it provides us with relevant information, stuff that even the regular boring people who--gasp-- take the SUBWAY can relate to.
The site recently ran an article about Jennifer Love Hewitt, the American actress-turned-singer who became exceptionally popular in the 1990's after staring in I Know What You Did Last Summer. The article, entitled "Jennifer Love Hewitt Gets Turned on by Office Supplies Stores" really seems to just take a quote of hers in which she states that "I love being organized. It's the folders and the tech … [Staples] is a place to take me if you want me to get hot and bothered" out of context.
Towards the end of the article, though, is where it actually gets interesting. Hewitt describes her post-breakup life (she was dating actor Jamie Kennedy) positively: "It's really nice," she said. "You definitely get more time with your girlfriends. You get more time to do things around your house. And just to relax and get your nails done and watch TV and have a good glass of wine. It's great."
There's something to be said about that. Some of us might envy the overly glamourous and glitzy lives that clearly every famous person leads. I mean, their lives are perfect, right? For a brief second, if you will, throw away that notion. MAYBE, just maybe, they're real people who breathe and, dare I say it, EAT and sleep and dream. And maybe, however unlikely it may seem, some of the female celebrities out there actually enjoy the single life. Is it possible that Hewitt's supposed enjoyment of singlehood reflects the greater population?
According to a up and coming documentary/book project, Seeking Happily Ever After, women these days are more accepting of creating serious partnerships later in life. Filmmakers Kerry David and Michelle Cove venture into the realm of single women in their thirties and why this is becoming more of a norm than a stigma these days.
They write:
Although many single 30-something women are proud of courageously charting their own course and refusing to settle, others are not as confident as they initially appear. Instead they are opting to be single because, frankly, the heartache of being vulnerable and putting themselves out there again and again feels overwhelming. Too many single women are also holding tight to a misguided belief that they can push off motherhood for another decade by relying on reproductive technology.
The project is definitely worth checking out at http://seekinghappilyeverafter.com. Maybe our cultural obsessions with dating and finding Mr. Right should be cooled down-- I mean, really, what's the rush? For now, perhaps we should all take a hint from Hewitt and get turned on by the simple things in life, like office supplies or um... male underwear models... and not obsess over finding everlasting love. After all, you might just happen to bump into your soulmate when purchasing Post-it Notes.
XOXO,
R.
The site recently ran an article about Jennifer Love Hewitt, the American actress-turned-singer who became exceptionally popular in the 1990's after staring in I Know What You Did Last Summer. The article, entitled "Jennifer Love Hewitt Gets Turned on by Office Supplies Stores" really seems to just take a quote of hers in which she states that "I love being organized. It's the folders and the tech … [Staples] is a place to take me if you want me to get hot and bothered" out of context.
Towards the end of the article, though, is where it actually gets interesting. Hewitt describes her post-breakup life (she was dating actor Jamie Kennedy) positively: "It's really nice," she said. "You definitely get more time with your girlfriends. You get more time to do things around your house. And just to relax and get your nails done and watch TV and have a good glass of wine. It's great."
There's something to be said about that. Some of us might envy the overly glamourous and glitzy lives that clearly every famous person leads. I mean, their lives are perfect, right? For a brief second, if you will, throw away that notion. MAYBE, just maybe, they're real people who breathe and, dare I say it, EAT and sleep and dream. And maybe, however unlikely it may seem, some of the female celebrities out there actually enjoy the single life. Is it possible that Hewitt's supposed enjoyment of singlehood reflects the greater population?
According to a up and coming documentary/book project, Seeking Happily Ever After, women these days are more accepting of creating serious partnerships later in life. Filmmakers Kerry David and Michelle Cove venture into the realm of single women in their thirties and why this is becoming more of a norm than a stigma these days.
They write:
Although many single 30-something women are proud of courageously charting their own course and refusing to settle, others are not as confident as they initially appear. Instead they are opting to be single because, frankly, the heartache of being vulnerable and putting themselves out there again and again feels overwhelming. Too many single women are also holding tight to a misguided belief that they can push off motherhood for another decade by relying on reproductive technology.
The project is definitely worth checking out at http://seekinghappilyeverafter.com. Maybe our cultural obsessions with dating and finding Mr. Right should be cooled down-- I mean, really, what's the rush? For now, perhaps we should all take a hint from Hewitt and get turned on by the simple things in life, like office supplies or um... male underwear models... and not obsess over finding everlasting love. After all, you might just happen to bump into your soulmate when purchasing Post-it Notes.
XOXO,
R.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Let's Give the Male Race a Little Credit
"Did you see B waddling around math class today?" A asked.
"Yeah, what was that all about?" J questioned back.
"She had just come back from the bathroom and her tampon hurt her so she couldn't walk!" A shot back with a monstrous chuckle.
We had all just piled into the back of the big yellow school bus, us being the cool eighth graders that we were. After a long day of passing notes and trading stickers we purchased at Abercrombie, it was time for a gab session on the way home.
It definitely crossed my mind that A and J were B's best friends. Weird that they'd be making such snide remarks behind her back, right?
Wrong. This was just Introduction to Girl World 101. Little did I know I was bound for this class on not only the AP level, but the college and even graduate levels as well.
By the end of high school, I was sure I'd seen it all. I'd watched best friends backstab just to beat each other with better marks in school. I had witnessed girls lie about weekend plans just to oust another from their in-group. Countless times I observed girls insult their best friends' intelligences and looks. But it only continued-- as I learned to distance myself more and more.
As I grew increasingly close in college to two girls that we used to call "the twins," I realized just how far girls are willing to go to make themselves feel better about their own identities and beings. This pair was inseparable-- from making out with their boyfriends on separate beds in the same room to insisting that they showered in stalls next to each other at the same time, there was no breaking them. They liked all the same foods and despised all the same people-- their was no distinguishing their preferences.
Soon one of the twins started to leak a rumor about the other. And not just about the girl herself-- but about the girl's experiences with her new boyfriend. The first girl apparently had attempted to do something sexually that she had never done before and um, let's just say, it wasn't successful judging by the boyfriend's physiological reaction.
The story made it all the way to a different state and back again, thanks to some mutual home friends between two of the friends. One twin's business of sexual incompetence had left the inner circle and traveled miles and miles, only to haunt her for years. Yet they still remained twins, because no one can break the bonds of sisterhood of course.
So, you might be wondering what my point is here. Yes, girls are cruel, we all know this. It isn’t exactly news or shocking. And I don’t mean it just in the sense of friendships—it transcends all social situations, from peer relationships at school to romances.
My point is to make it clear that I know girls are awful, and I know that sometimes we might make it seem here like we hate men. But really, as much as we might complain, it’s important to remember that it’s really us girls that are the crazy and manipulative ones—not the men. Even though we females put up with a lot from men, we give them a harder time and our behavior is oftentimes a lot more outrageous. Maybe we owe them some credit after all.
XOXO,
R.
"Yeah, what was that all about?" J questioned back.
"She had just come back from the bathroom and her tampon hurt her so she couldn't walk!" A shot back with a monstrous chuckle.
We had all just piled into the back of the big yellow school bus, us being the cool eighth graders that we were. After a long day of passing notes and trading stickers we purchased at Abercrombie, it was time for a gab session on the way home.
It definitely crossed my mind that A and J were B's best friends. Weird that they'd be making such snide remarks behind her back, right?
Wrong. This was just Introduction to Girl World 101. Little did I know I was bound for this class on not only the AP level, but the college and even graduate levels as well.
By the end of high school, I was sure I'd seen it all. I'd watched best friends backstab just to beat each other with better marks in school. I had witnessed girls lie about weekend plans just to oust another from their in-group. Countless times I observed girls insult their best friends' intelligences and looks. But it only continued-- as I learned to distance myself more and more.
As I grew increasingly close in college to two girls that we used to call "the twins," I realized just how far girls are willing to go to make themselves feel better about their own identities and beings. This pair was inseparable-- from making out with their boyfriends on separate beds in the same room to insisting that they showered in stalls next to each other at the same time, there was no breaking them. They liked all the same foods and despised all the same people-- their was no distinguishing their preferences.
Soon one of the twins started to leak a rumor about the other. And not just about the girl herself-- but about the girl's experiences with her new boyfriend. The first girl apparently had attempted to do something sexually that she had never done before and um, let's just say, it wasn't successful judging by the boyfriend's physiological reaction.
The story made it all the way to a different state and back again, thanks to some mutual home friends between two of the friends. One twin's business of sexual incompetence had left the inner circle and traveled miles and miles, only to haunt her for years. Yet they still remained twins, because no one can break the bonds of sisterhood of course.
So, you might be wondering what my point is here. Yes, girls are cruel, we all know this. It isn’t exactly news or shocking. And I don’t mean it just in the sense of friendships—it transcends all social situations, from peer relationships at school to romances.
My point is to make it clear that I know girls are awful, and I know that sometimes we might make it seem here like we hate men. But really, as much as we might complain, it’s important to remember that it’s really us girls that are the crazy and manipulative ones—not the men. Even though we females put up with a lot from men, we give them a harder time and our behavior is oftentimes a lot more outrageous. Maybe we owe them some credit after all.
XOXO,
R.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
I'm not a secretary...
Last week, I had the most sexist and insulting experience I’ve ever had in a professional environment. Those of you who don’t know me don’t necessarily know that I’m 22 and graduated from college last May. I graduated with a degree that could take me one of two routes: journalism or PR. My current job is more PR-related; I handle the communications for a company. I realized pretty quickly that PR was the wrong path.
Being 22 and the newest member of the company, there is a certain amount of administrative work that I do. Someone has to do it, and that someone is the newest person. Plus, one of my biggest administrative responsibilities is staffing a few of the company’s many committees — I attend meetings and later put together the minutes. Writing=communication, so it sort of makes sense, even if I weren’t the newest and youngest.
One particular committee, which met last week, is made up of only men, most of whom are old. They’ve always been extremely nice to me, probably because they’re old men and I’m a young woman. Regardless, I’ve never had a problem with them.
Until last week. What they were discussing isn’t important, but at one point one of the men said, in reference to me “She takes good notes, she’s a good secretary.” At that point, I choked on my own spit a little. Then I froze, while the words “Excuse me, I’m not a secretary” ran over and over in my head.
I’m not knocking administrative assistants. My office would die without the smarts of our administrative assistants. But the word secretary is outdated, politically incorrect and sexist. And even worse, I knew exactly why he called me a secretary: I was the only woman in the room.
It was also the way he said it. He might as well have said “Oh, she doesn’t matter, she’s just a secretary.” Well, mister, I don’t think I spent four years in college, two years at internships and five months job hunting to be “just a secretary.”
Maybe it’s naïve of me to forget people can be so sexist. But as the youngest and only female in our weekly management meetings, I’ve been impressed with how much my coworkers go out of their way to treat me with respect. I didn’t realize there are still professionals who would assume that, because someone is a woman, they must be a “secretary.”
It’s probably time for him to retire…
Love always,
S
Being 22 and the newest member of the company, there is a certain amount of administrative work that I do. Someone has to do it, and that someone is the newest person. Plus, one of my biggest administrative responsibilities is staffing a few of the company’s many committees — I attend meetings and later put together the minutes. Writing=communication, so it sort of makes sense, even if I weren’t the newest and youngest.
One particular committee, which met last week, is made up of only men, most of whom are old. They’ve always been extremely nice to me, probably because they’re old men and I’m a young woman. Regardless, I’ve never had a problem with them.
Until last week. What they were discussing isn’t important, but at one point one of the men said, in reference to me “She takes good notes, she’s a good secretary.” At that point, I choked on my own spit a little. Then I froze, while the words “Excuse me, I’m not a secretary” ran over and over in my head.
I’m not knocking administrative assistants. My office would die without the smarts of our administrative assistants. But the word secretary is outdated, politically incorrect and sexist. And even worse, I knew exactly why he called me a secretary: I was the only woman in the room.
It was also the way he said it. He might as well have said “Oh, she doesn’t matter, she’s just a secretary.” Well, mister, I don’t think I spent four years in college, two years at internships and five months job hunting to be “just a secretary.”
Maybe it’s naïve of me to forget people can be so sexist. But as the youngest and only female in our weekly management meetings, I’ve been impressed with how much my coworkers go out of their way to treat me with respect. I didn’t realize there are still professionals who would assume that, because someone is a woman, they must be a “secretary.”
It’s probably time for him to retire…
Love always,
S
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Please Don't Bring Me Flowers: The Anti-Romantic
Though R and I have plenty of things in common, we certainly are far from being exactly the same. There is one critical similarity, however, that has led us to embark on the business venture that is our book about bad dates: our mutual hatred for all things romantic.
Romance and nice gestures make me squirm. Unlike most girls, I do not appreciate receiving a text in the morning before work telling me to have a great day. I don’t care that you had fun on our date or that you really enjoyed talking to me. Either you want to see me again or you don’t, and nine times out of ten, I don’t want to see you again, so it doesn’t matter.
Not too long ago, I went on a first date to get drinks with a guy and was unimpressed. He was kind of rude to the waitress, and that’s a dealbreaker for me. He also seemed to have a bad habit of asking me questions about myself but then interrupting me when I answered them. Regardless, he sent me an email a week or so later, saying he had a great time and asking if I’d like to get dinner the following week. Though I sent a polite response saying thank you, but I didn’t feel much chemistry, inside I was screaming “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO ASK ME TO DINNER AND RUIN MY DAY!?!?!”
Most girls would love it if a guy they were seeing cooked them a romantic dinner, right? Not me. A friend of mine was seeing one of my close friends, who has severe and complex food allergies. Over time, I’d become somewhat familiar with what she could and couldn’t eat, so my friend went to the trouble of bringing me to the grocery store with him so I could help him pick out ingredients for a romantic dinner that wouldn’t kill her. I pretty much went home and vomited afterward, a similar response to when my like-minded romance-hating friend told me her date brought her a rose. “Ew,” I said. “That’s disgusting.”
I’m not saying I want someone to slap me around, verbally abuse me and spit on me, not by any means. Though I like guys who are direct and assertive, I don’t tolerate inconsiderateness. Let me demonstrate this critical difference:
The other day, I went on a sushi date with a guy. When it came time to order, I told him everything sounded good, and that I’m adventurous and like everything but salmon and cilantro. He in turn asked the waitress to just pick some stuff for us, but nothing with salmon or cilantro. Perfect! He passed the test, and I’ll probably go out with him again. If we were in a relationship and I wanted to go to a particular sushi restaurant and eat a specific type of sushi, I’d expect things to be different. But for a first date, that is exactly how I like a guy to handle it.
Now let me tell you about how I don’t like a guy to handle himself. I was recently trying to plan a date with someone, and we were picking a day. I said I was free Thursday, he said Tuesday would be better, and he would be able to leave work around 8. I asked him what time he thought he could get to a location about halfway between his work and where I live—I work early, so I wanted to make this happen as early as possible. He said “Well it will be easier to meet by my work.” Hold on a minute here. We picked the day that’s easier for him and harder for me, then he wants me to meet him near his work, which is nowhere near where I live, because it’s easier for him? Not acceptable, and not a good first impression at all. As a result, I have decided not to go out with him. R, of course, supports this decision.
I’m not asking for a man to be rude to me. I’m just not into flowers and flattery. As you can probably tell from my decision to nix the man who wanted me to meet him near his work, I value manners and politeness. Maybe I’m a little old fashioned in my approach to gender roles in dating. But I think we can all agree on one thing—I’m certainly not old fashioned when it comes to romance.
Love Always,
S
Romance and nice gestures make me squirm. Unlike most girls, I do not appreciate receiving a text in the morning before work telling me to have a great day. I don’t care that you had fun on our date or that you really enjoyed talking to me. Either you want to see me again or you don’t, and nine times out of ten, I don’t want to see you again, so it doesn’t matter.
Not too long ago, I went on a first date to get drinks with a guy and was unimpressed. He was kind of rude to the waitress, and that’s a dealbreaker for me. He also seemed to have a bad habit of asking me questions about myself but then interrupting me when I answered them. Regardless, he sent me an email a week or so later, saying he had a great time and asking if I’d like to get dinner the following week. Though I sent a polite response saying thank you, but I didn’t feel much chemistry, inside I was screaming “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO ASK ME TO DINNER AND RUIN MY DAY!?!?!”
Most girls would love it if a guy they were seeing cooked them a romantic dinner, right? Not me. A friend of mine was seeing one of my close friends, who has severe and complex food allergies. Over time, I’d become somewhat familiar with what she could and couldn’t eat, so my friend went to the trouble of bringing me to the grocery store with him so I could help him pick out ingredients for a romantic dinner that wouldn’t kill her. I pretty much went home and vomited afterward, a similar response to when my like-minded romance-hating friend told me her date brought her a rose. “Ew,” I said. “That’s disgusting.”
I’m not saying I want someone to slap me around, verbally abuse me and spit on me, not by any means. Though I like guys who are direct and assertive, I don’t tolerate inconsiderateness. Let me demonstrate this critical difference:
The other day, I went on a sushi date with a guy. When it came time to order, I told him everything sounded good, and that I’m adventurous and like everything but salmon and cilantro. He in turn asked the waitress to just pick some stuff for us, but nothing with salmon or cilantro. Perfect! He passed the test, and I’ll probably go out with him again. If we were in a relationship and I wanted to go to a particular sushi restaurant and eat a specific type of sushi, I’d expect things to be different. But for a first date, that is exactly how I like a guy to handle it.
Now let me tell you about how I don’t like a guy to handle himself. I was recently trying to plan a date with someone, and we were picking a day. I said I was free Thursday, he said Tuesday would be better, and he would be able to leave work around 8. I asked him what time he thought he could get to a location about halfway between his work and where I live—I work early, so I wanted to make this happen as early as possible. He said “Well it will be easier to meet by my work.” Hold on a minute here. We picked the day that’s easier for him and harder for me, then he wants me to meet him near his work, which is nowhere near where I live, because it’s easier for him? Not acceptable, and not a good first impression at all. As a result, I have decided not to go out with him. R, of course, supports this decision.
I’m not asking for a man to be rude to me. I’m just not into flowers and flattery. As you can probably tell from my decision to nix the man who wanted me to meet him near his work, I value manners and politeness. Maybe I’m a little old fashioned in my approach to gender roles in dating. But I think we can all agree on one thing—I’m certainly not old fashioned when it comes to romance.
Love Always,
S
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