I wasn't going to write this but I guess I gotta.
I have never been so embarassed to be a woman in all my life. The Blaga brought it all crashing down on my head. This is why I hang with the guys. This is why I write from a man's perspective all the time and I write fiction about man things like assassins and violence and feelings with some measure of sense to them. This is why I struggle with making my female characters strong and real.
Because women are fucking FREAKS! No wonder men don't understand us - HA! I don't understand us.
I've always been on the fence between men and women; physically, emotionally, conversationally. Not in a gay way, but I have an appreciation for physical beauty that often transcends the sexes. I saw a guy today who looked sexy like a woman does-- androgenously sexy-- and I thought, Dude, male or female, you are simply the most beautiful human being for blocks around. When he looked back at me, I got tingles, and I'm pretty sure he was gay. But I've seen women like that too, and thought the same thing.
Emotionally, I just don't feel like a girl either, not usually. I don't need to check in with my girlfriends every day (believe it or not, I do have some), or even every week. Oh, I get my feelers hurt sometimes, and I can commiserate with broken hearts. I don't mean like that. But I don't "just die" or "cry so hard" when shit doesn't go my way, like so many women I know. I'm bad about remembering gifts (holy fuck - mother's day is SUNDAY!) and I think Oprah's a jack-ass. I don't want to have another baby when I see one. I realize that I must not be the only woman who feels this way, but I'm the only one who doesn't spout off, "Oh, I miss when my kids were babies," every time I see one. I think many women feel like that because when they had their babies they were at their most "woman-like". I'm at my most woman-like when I'm screaming my head off during fucking, but to each her own.
I don't really do Cosmos and wine. I party like a guy, and I prefer to take my drinks with guys. I love to be scammed on by guys, but I can park my butt on a barstool and throw back Bass with the worst of them. I like guy drinks: neat whiskey or a cold beer is fine with me. A margarita on 5/5/5 (thanks, Wegg). Wine is for with food. Leave the sugary drinks for the girlie-girls.
While most chics don't lift weights for fear of bulking up, I'm worried about whether I can add ten more pounds on row this set and when the hell will I make it to twenty pushups straight. (And while I'm on this subject, girls, lifting weights is the closest thing to a fountain of youth that exists today. Get your ass in there. There's cute boys in there too; boys who appreciate a strong woman.)
As for conversationally, I can do the girl-talk thing... but for only like half an hour before my head starts spinning with boredom. Not that guys are all that fascinating (cars, cars and more cars), but how long can we discuss nails and tans and kids and clothes and shit? Some women; apparently for hours. I've had deeper conversations with guys who I barely know than I can have with most women I know well.
And then there's the matter of GAF about other women think. Women care about this far too much. I truly believe that most women care more what other women think than almost anything (exhibit A - the Blaga) and in that I'm different from most women. However, I should include myself in my stereotype. I care... a little. But it doesn't make me feel good about myself. I try to ignore it all I can.
Now, let me preface the following by saying that I'm not bragging - I truly do not know why people look at me so much. Between the "athletic" thighs and the lack of boobage, I don't think I've got all that much to offer. Apparently my body type meets some people's asthetics while so blithely not meeting my own. Well, I like my hair. I'll give me that. Anyway, look they do and I won't pretend to hate it or any of that nonsense.
I'm sexually attracted to the male of the species; and when a guy gives me a double take it sends a tingle right down to my... er, Valley. It makes me feel better about myself; I hold myself a little higher and swing my hips a little more. I think I look skinnier the next time I look in the mirror. Some women say they feel dirty when a man looks at them, but I don't. And I'm starting to realize why: most guys just aren't so goddamn picky as women are (and as I am). They can appreciate a beautiful face without letting one's thighs detract from the attraction. They don't have some skewed sense of what they want themselves to look like affecting their perception. Their standards aren't really lower, just more inclusive.
When a women gives me a double-take; and again, for some reason they often do; I get annoyed because they have envy in their eyes. Malicious, petty, hateful envy. It's a begrudging, comparative sort of admiration. I know it well because I've been on the looksie side of it and I know how it feels. "So what if she's a size two; she's still got three milimeters of back-fat hanging over her lowrise jeans, bitch."
But the worst part, the part I loathe, is that when women admire me I still feel good. But I hate it because it comes at a price to that woman. Women aren't capable of admiring another woman without feeling a little bit bad about ourselves in the process. It's embarrassing, too. I just want to say, "Goddamn it, you look great, you've obviously got your creature comforts taken care of, so what's the problem? Just because I work my ass of to make my body look like this, and because I got up and did my hair and makeup this morning, I shouldn't have to feel bad or embarrassed for you. My beauty, such as it is, should take nothing from you."
I'm not sure what the connection of all this is to the Blaga except for my feelings. I felt the same way as when other women look at me - and it wasn't nice. Those catty feelings were out in spades; in me, too. I didn't want to be associated with women yesterday. I was embarrassed for everyone who commented on TG's site - myself included. And I wondered why I wasn't more into the whole thing. Obviously other women were all emotional about it. And it all goes back to the fence: I could see another of those "woman" features that I just don't have.
I'm not comfortable on the fence between the sexes. I wish I could go one direction or the other: cold beer and violent movies and cars, or tight skirts and shopping and angry, female righteousness.
But I can't. I'm some of each. I'm both sides of the fence and neither side, all at the same time.
I just wish there wasn't a fence.