The wonders of growing up with women
Since I was three years old I have lived in a house with only myself and my mother and sister. Hell, even the cat was female. Now, of course I had some male influence from my father, my mother’s boyfriend, and my friends (although most of them were girls too), but the large majority of it was a bunch of women. This has been somewhat of a bane and a gift at different times.
Now, although I am not the most effeminate person around (although the brits seems to disagree… BBC Sex Identity), I am definately not the most manly specimen around either. A few things that I have had as hobbies that some might know about (thankfully not all, although I guess I am just listing them to the world) are:
- Crochet
- Design (yeah the girly interior kind)
- Dance
- Singing
- Cooking
- Acting
Now, I don’t know about you, but when I see this list it doesn’t immediately scream GUY at me. This isn’t so bad I guess since nobody really cares what your hobbies are, and not very many people have seen me doing any of these things (minus some who have dated me… you know who you are.) Here’s the part I find most enjoyable.
Tonight, at the university, there is a dance sponsored by one of the dorms. A friend of mine (a girl whose list of hobbies is about the opposite of mine) is attending with her boyfriend. Having never worn makeup before or any sort of hairdo whatsoever, she needed some help getting ready for the dance, so of course I offered. Her roommates and other girls on her floor about died when they heard I was going to be doing her hair and makeup (although few of them bothered to try and say I shouldn’t nor make time themselves to do so.) I should probably be used to this kind of reaction to situations like this, but it still seems like they are saying I have some kind of incompetence.
Anyway, I spent from about 4:45 to 6:00 getting her all ready to go, and it turned out marvellously. As a bit of background for what happened next, her boyfriend has this problem where his face turns bright red whenever he gets embarassed or experiences any emotions related to this, and he always finds a way to pretend like it is something completely unrelated.
So here’s the best part. He was about 15 minutes late picking here up (fine by me, her hair wasn’t done anyway), so when he finally got there she closed and locked the door and made him try real hard and appologize first. Now, this may seem a bit bitchy, but she wasn’t serious, she just really likes to mess with him. To appease her wonderful sense of humor he got on his knees in the hall and started appologizing when she opened the door. Almost immediately his face was a dark red (almost purple even), which he made sure to mention was because of his tight collar… All I could think then was, “And those girls thought I couldn’t do it.”
Well, enough of me rambling about my great feminine side. I guess I can go back to being a guy again… heh.