Feminist? I Think Not

I love being a girl. I love makeup, clothes, the color pink, stiletto heels, and not having to worry about getting my junk caught in pants zippers.

Superficial? Sure. But anyone who says that men and women should be equal in every way should have their heads examined. Here's my main issue with the feminism soapbox (and it is often a soapbox, ladies and gentlemen, be not confused): Too often, it's misconstrued as anti-man, rather than pro-woman.

Before you either cheer or wish me death, hear me out.

Do I think that women are as smart as men? Absolutely. Do I think women can do anything that men can do? Absolutely not. And why would they want to?

You know what total equality is? It's signing up for Selective Service at 18. It's the end of "women and children first." It's real push-ups and shorter maternity leave. And most certainly, it's not happening any time soon. And you can be sure it will NEVER happen at my house!

In many aspects of this world, men come out ahead, just as they have for the last...I dunno, trillion years. And while, to a career gal (which I was for the better part of my adult life) that is pretty crummy. However, there are many advantages to being a woman that are sadly overlooked.

My husband has, since our very first encounter, opened doors for me (car, house, whatever.) He opens doors and then shuts them after I am comfortably inside. He is teaching my boys to do the same. I never pay for drinks, and I always have a seat. My husband and his friends are the epitome of the Chivalry Club, circa 1950. They will carry you down the street if you ask them to, go to blows over you in 1.5 seconds (and he has, oh he sure has) and never, ever, would they let the lady pick up the tab.

Archaic? Maybe. Barbaric? Depends. And are all men like that? Of course not. But damnit, why are some girls so hell-bent on letting chivalry die? At the tender age of... well, anyhoo... I'm old enough to know that being a girl has some advantages, no matter your race or sexual orientation.

I'm still pro-woman. However, I'm not willing to sacrifice femininity for feminism. So even if I made more money than my husband (which I don't, but hypothetically) I'll still let him take out the trash. And kill spiders.

Besides, who would want to carry this:

When they could carry this:

**Did I mention I really, really reallyreallyreally want this purse?

And wear these:

When they could wear these:

**Why, yes, those are mine. You think they are lovely? Thanks.

So ladies? Work it. And men? Don't worry, there's still plenty of things that are all yours. After all, it's you guys who get drafted and have to pee standing up. Suckers.

Never Leave Hubs Home Alone

Last week my grandpa got sick and went into the hospital. Obviously I went to visit him (two days in a row) and hubs did not accompany me. Further, my brother is visiting from Virginia (where he is finishing up law school) and we have much alcohol to drink catching up to do at Chilis. Between these two happenings, I have been preoccupied with things other than seeing that hubs eats properly five times a day. (Imagine that!)

If hubs were one to keep track, (he is, oh let me tell you, he sure is) this is not the first time (recently) that I have ventured out of the house alone and left Hubs to his own devices, and let me tell you, it's wearing on him. He doesn't do "alone time" well.

I'm the kind of person who enjoys a little time to herself for introspective purposes, i.e. shopping without having to hide purchases in the trunk of the car (which he seems to find when he accompanys me to Target), unlimited Bravo channel watching, and Pei Wei dinners for one.

Hubs? Not so much. If I'm not around, he usually heads over to his mothers house to lament about how I'm gone again and no one loves him and he's neglected and discriminated against and potentially will never make a full recovery from this unprecedented magnitude of betrayal.

(Translation: He sulks around on her couch and watches TV. JUST LIKE HE COULD DO AT HOME.)

Also, time seems to stop or at least stand still while I'm gone. I know this because I come home and all of the lights are on and all of the cabinet doors in the kitchen are open, as though someone was in the middle of a well-lit ransack of our house and suddenly got called away to attend to something extremely important.

(Probably some random muscle car race on cable.)

It is because of this virtual space-time continuum problem that when I do finally arrive home hubs makes it impossible for me to sleep because at 12:15 am hubs has now remembered he did not eat while I was out and is now ravishingly food depraved. Unfortunately, a hot meal is not currently available to him and wasn't 5 hours earlier, either, since it in now apparant that food cannot be cooked while I am gone or even purchased from a drive-thru on the way home from his mother's.

And since hubs is spoiled above and beyond belief, he is struggling to comprehend a world where a midnight snack isn't readily available, thus leading him to toss and turn and mumble about how life is not fair and my evenings away from home are getting both "out of hand" and "quite ridiculous" in his opinion.

The reality of this is: the hubs ate 1/2 a bag of hot fries, a handful of pistachios, 2 peices of sliced cheese and 2 twinkies 3 hours ago and will eat again at 9 am when I am forced to drag myself out of bed to warm him up 2 Jimmy Dean sausage biscuts in an exhausted stupor because he kept me up half the night whining. Oh, and because he claims he is unsure how to work the microwave, what with all the buttons and such. (Did I mention he is an electician that has, in his day, WIRED MICROWAVE OVENS INTO HOMES AND BEEN PAID GOOD MONEY TO DO IT?)

Anyhoo...

On the flip side of all of this, I AM glad to be home. And I'm hoping that this week will bring new and exciting opportunities for me to leave the house and traumatize the hubs.

Goals, folks. IT'S ALL ABOUT GOALS.