Wednesday, December 26, 2012

I love the difference

     I am a girly-girl. I love bubble baths, and mani/pedis, and sparkles, and glitter, and smelling nice, and wearing red lipstick, and mascara, and lingerie, and sometimes all at once. I hate those horrible Sarah McLachlan-ASPCA-In-the-Arms-of-an-Angel commercials with the pictures of starving neglected animals. They actually make me sick to my stomach, and leave me considering how I can find all the homeless  puppies and kittens in the world "Forever homes." (Contact me by the way if you would like to give a home to a tiny grey and white kitten, I can hook you up.) I love making my surroundings beautiful and welcoming, whether it is a table cloth, a clean sink with a flower in a jelly glass, or a warm dinner.
     However, along with the gift of compassion, and a desire to make others lives better, comes an emotional spectrum that varies as wildly as a kitten from a lion. No, lets make that a mama bear whose cubs have been threatened...yeah. Much more accurate. Just ask my husband.
     As much as I love being a woman, I  kinda wonder sometimes, what God may have been thinking when He made us so emotional. And speaking of God, I am most certain, that if Eve made it to heaven, God has her, out of necessity, in the "Witness Protection Program." Yep. Her name is probably now something common like Maria, or Patricia, Patty for short. But when I get there, I'm going to shout out, "Hey Eve!" and see if she turns around.
     Now don't get me wrong. I love men. Heck, I even married one. I do appreciate that men don't care about getting dirty, that they will, in most instances come to my rescue when I see a foot long hairy wicked spider, (OK maybe it wasn't a foot long, but it was pretty darned close to it!) and that they will chivalrously open a door for me. I appreciate that you change tires and pump gasoline and change oil and unclog toilets. Not because I couldn't, but because it's icky. And I don't want to.
     Now I won't complain to you about menstrual cramps, or childbirth, (although it is excruciatingly painful). It's just what we do. Again and again. Although I believe that a woman and a man should be paid the same for the same work, I do not consider myself to be feminist. I do not want to be a man, do not have "Envy" of any thing you have, nor do I  want to pee standing up, however convenient it may prove to be, especially during long road trips. I like you just the way you are. So, leave me alone.
     Miss Jodi