MussoLOLen is Always Right! |

I just realized that I haven’t updated my blog all week. O_O Too many non-bloggable things have been happening at work and in my personal life, and I’ve been around long enough to know that talking about this stuff on a public blog can only fan the flames of the drama and the wankage. So let’s just say that I’ve been spending the past couple of days getting harshly bitchslaped into the loving arms of the real world. It hasn’t been very pleasant and I’m real thankful that I have sweet friends who gave me endless supplies of beer, crack, and the contact numbers of their hitmen throughout all this.

The feeling that I couldn’t quite shake off all week is this strange ambivalence I feel about my gender and the opposite sex. I keep getting this weird urge to take a sharp knife to my breasts and chop them off. Breasts are the most obvious and visible symbol of my sexuality and there are times when I really can’t stand them. It wasn’t until now that I became very aware of the fact that things are going to be even more difficult in the real world just because I’m a woman in a society of men raised to be macho assholes.

At times like these I can’t help but wish I were born a guy. Which is a stupid thing to wish for really, but come on. If I were a guy I could have my cake and eat it too. My dad wouldn’t have to stay up late on Friday and Saturday evenings just to make sure that I arrive home safely. If somebody messed with me, I could easily solve the problem with my fists, like a real troglodyte. I really envy the freedom men have and the convenient position they have in society. See, no matter how conservatively a woman dresses or how carefully she acts around men so that they don’t get the wrong idea, she’ll still end up being fresh meat, the inspiration for lucid sexual fantasies, a trophy that needs to be won by the best alpha-male.

The thing is, I’m not about to go all radical feminist on everyone and start hating men. Gender equality will never happen, just as eradicating poverty will never happen. And I’m not about to stop shaving my legs and start wearing shapeless t-shirts to hide my sexuality. Much as I hate it at times, I’m a woman goddamnit. Shaving my legs is a form of therapy and I wear clothes that flatter my figure just because I like knowing that I’m pretty. All that crap I keep getting from guys is not going stop me from being who I am.

Maybe it’s just me being idealistic and all that, but I’m surprised that some of the comments I received in my previous post were less than encouraging. I’ve spoken to and dated more assholes and womanizers than I can count but despite all the stories I’ve heard, I’m still weirdly optimistic that not all guys out there are total dickwads. Just you wait, I’ll find the ideal guy someday!

Sometimes I think that I must be some sort of asexual freak. Despite being female, there are so many moments where I don’t understand women at all, especially when they….

…constantly whine about how fat or ugly they are, and when you say otherwise they never believe you. Okay, I admit that I do tend to complain about being “fat” every now and then. But all I need is someone to tell me that I’m so skinny I could be thinspiration for teenage girls everywhere, and then I shut up.

…take constant trips to the restroom to retouch their make-up. Am I the only girl in the world who uses the restroom to just pee? I don’t know why but I can’t stand having to fix myself up alongside all these other women. When I retouch my makeup during the rare occasions where I wear makeup, I do it while sitting on the toilet.

…blame themselves when their dates go wrong. Hon, it’s not your fault that he offered to take you home and then charged you for gas afterwards. It’s not your fault he made a date with you and completely “forgot” about it. It’s HIM. HE’S the dickwad. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.

…choose to chase the grade-A asshole who clearly doesn’t give a rat’s ass about their existence over the almost-perfect great guy who’s already halfway in love with them and will treat them better than anyone else in the world ever could. This just completely baffles me. So okay, I’m kind of guilty of this too. Except for the part where there’s a great guy already halfway in love with me and who’ll treat me better than anyone else in the world ever could. That never happens.

…place all sorts of meanings to every single gesture their object of affection (or affectation) does to them. Admittedly, a person’s judgment does get rather clouded when they’re attracted to someone; thus, everything becomes prone to misinterpretation. But do girls really have to keep analyzing these events for hours on end? Seriously. No matter how much you talk about it or try to second-guess his motives, in the end you won’t even come close to what he was thinking of during the moment he looked you in the eye or held your hand or took a piss on a pile of construction materials. If he was even thinking of anything at all.

…can be megabitches to each other. Girlfriends can scream, call each other names, pull at each other’s hair, and do all sorts of nasty things when they’re in the middle of their menstrual cycles. Then at the moment one of them breaks down crying, the other pulls them into a hug and apologizes. And then everything’s back to the way it was, as though nothing was ever wrong in the first place.

Perhaps I feel this way about women and female friendships because the last time I had any real girlfriends, we were still playing Barbies and having serious arguments about who gets to marry Taylor Hanson. Dating and sex were alien concepts to us as children, but we were already designing our wedding gowns and picking out baby names. Over a decade later here I am, a part of a crazy bunch of girls that are a fucked-up version of the chicks from Sex and the City. We still design wedding gowns and argue about who gets to marry guys like Johnny Depp, but only as segues to long cryfests on the disappearance of our August boyfriends and canceled dates. There are times when I really can’t get them, but I love my girlfriends to chunky chocolate pieces. Who the hell needs a boyfriend when you’re practically married to seven gorgeous, intelligent girls anyway?

And just because I found the following exchange rather amusing:
Me: I hate band guys. They’re a paradox of machismo and sensitivity.
Kristel: Yeah. Womanizers with feelings.

I feel like a complete anomaly by saying that I do not have a single girlfriend. True, I hang out with a bunch of really great, intelligent girls at our very own corner of the school that we call The Table. We make fun of the same people, and laugh and bitch about the same things. But that’s pretty much where my relationship with them ends. I don’t think I can ever have another really close female friend because if there is anything I’ve learned from four years of being in an all-girls high school and failed female friendships in college, it’s that women are very emotional, very fickle beings.

I’m sure this scenario is familiar to any girl who has had at least one girlfriend in her life. Friend A does something that pissed Friend B off. Friend B is very pissed at Friend A, but Friend A is unaware of it. Friend B doesn’t tell Friend A for one reason or another, and her negative feelings towards Friend A bubble and boil inside her until one day, everything explodes like a really intense orgasm. Friendship ends, making things very awkward for everyone else concerned.

I don’t know any woman–including myself–who is honest and up-front about what she feels about another person. I’m trying to change this about myself though because I believe that it is best to let people know the truth even if it hurts them or pisses them off. Blinding somebody with fake smiles and how-are-yous is like making that somebody the town idiot. It’s really not fair. The truth can be a harsh, painful thing–but you’re better off with it than being ignorant. Look at it this way–knowing the truth about yourself allows you to change what has to be changed in order to make you a better person.

The point is, any kind of relationship can’t survive if the two people involved can’t be frank with each other. For a relationship to work, a certain level of trust has to be present. And how can you trust a person with more serious matters when she can’t even tell you what she honestly thinks about you?

And this is why I’m staying away from girlfriends for now. In the unlikely instance I meet a girl who can be honest to me, I’ll be happy to have her as my friend. But until then, I’ll be floating in a nice warm pool called the gray area. Sure, I do miss having girlfriends. I miss the sleepovers, the shopping trips, the makeovers, and most of all, the girl talk. But even if I can do these things with the average woman, I can’t enjoy the experience as much with the knowledge that this person will most probably backstab or lie to me if I unintentionally do something nasty.

In a way, guys have it a lot easier. I mean, if Guy A pisses Guy B off, Guy B can just kick the crap out of Guy A. They’ll most probably forget about it the following morning and won’t spread crap about each other to other people.