Posts Tagged: personal

Girls Who Hate Girls

You know them. Maybe you sat by them in high school or college. Maybe you work with them. Maybe your boyfriend is friends with them. Maybe, God forbid, you are one of them. I’m talking about girls who hate girls.

Girls who hate girls will say any one of the following things:

“I just don’t get along with girls.”
“Girls don’t like me.”
“I’m not like other girls/I don’t have anything in common with girls.”
“I get along better with guys.”
“Girls are just too much drama.”

Ladies, if you hear another lady say any of these things, run. Do not attempt a friendship or an intervention. When a girl openly admits that half the population doesn’t like her, that’s a red flag you should pay attention to. It’s like someone who’s had 7 failed marriages and is just like, “7 duds? What’s wrong with men!?” At some point, you need to take responsibility for your actions. And if you can’t get along with any other woman, then chances are…it’s not them, it’s you.

These girls are fond of saying they’re “not like other girls.” By this they, of course, mean they’re better than other girls. They don’t care about that stupid girl stuff. Well, guess what, ladies? I’ve got news for you. Unless you have a penis, you are a lot like other girls. These girls are desperate to position themselves as an “other,” and they want to maintain the illusion that their interests make them special and unique. Sure, you might enjoy watching football, playing video games, and drinking beer, but you know who else enjoys those things? Lots of other girls! Women who say these things usually don’t want to be friends with anyone who doesn’t want to sleep with them. They like the attention they get from men, and they don’t want to share that attention with anyone.

One of the stupidest things I hear these girls say is that “girls just have too much drama.” Usually they’ll punctuate this statement with an eye-roll and a sigh. Here’s a guarantee: these girls are always the ones that will talk shit about you, thus starting some “drama” that they can complain about to their dude friends later when you aren’t around. Logically, “girls have too much drama” isn’t a very sound argument. As a lady myself, I keep my life largely “drama”- free by avoiding negative people, trying to be honest, and heeding the advice of Mary J. Blige. I’d say the same is true for most of my lady friends, and that’s probably why we’re friends. In my experience, groups of dudes have just as much (if not more) petty backstabbing bullshit. Some of the worst gossipers I’ve known have been men.

One simple fact remains: if you can’t get along with half the population, that is your problem, not every girl’s problem. Listen, as I’ve mentioned on this blog before, I live an incredibly male-dominated life. I have brothers, no sisters. I spend most of my time with my boyfriend. My dad taught me about menstruation. I’ve always had male friends (okay, aside from 3rd-8th grade, when my social awkwardness took over and I was unable to talk to any man I wasn’t related to by blood or marriage). Some of my best friends are male. My workplace is 95% male, and so is the industry I work in (that’s a statistic I just made up!) Does that make me any better than other girls, or even any different? No! If anything, the male influence in my life causes me to seek out female companionship. My female friendships are some of my most important relationships, and my lady friends are some of the smartest, funniest, and most interesting people I know. There’s a reason we love shows like The Golden Girls, Girlfriends, and Sex and the City; they represent an ideal of close, supportive female friendship, the type that endures through romantic obstacles, career ups and downs, and really unfortunate cowl neck sweaters (that last one is mostly about Golden Girls).

While I definitely don’t buy into the heteronormative idea that women are supportive/nurturing while men aren’t (if a man is really a close friend of yours, you should be able to deal with the squishy stuff like “feelings”), I do think that the energy in a group of women is different than in a group of men. Duh. When I’m around any of my accomplished, intelligent, motivated, compassionate lady friends, I feel inspired. Most importantly, no matter how close you are to a guy, he’ll never be able to recommend a really awesome gyno, spot you a tampon, or just, like, talk about fertility/UTIs/birth control method pros and cons for a few hours.

If you know a girl who hates girls, remember: it’s not you, it’s her. Don’t sink to her level and trash talk her, because you’ll be playing right into her games. And if you are a girl who hates girls, stop it! Wouldn’t you rather have women as allies, instead of enemies? Close female friends will be your support system for life, travel down the road and back again, be your pal/confidante, etc.

Childhood Crushes: Part 1

When I was a kid, I liked all the boys. I’m sure there will be more of these to come.

Grocery Employee
-When I was in 2nd grade, I had a pretty sizable crush on one of the baggers at Hawkins Market, the now-defunct grocery store my mom frequented. All the male employees had to wear dress pants, white shirts, and ties. What can I say? I like a man who’s a snappy dresser. What’s more, I like a man who knows how to bag groceries so that the Wonder Bread doesn’t get smushed and the eggs don’t get crushed. Bagger Guy could do all this and more. He always made polite small talk with my mom when he carried the groceries to the car, but we never got any farther than that.

Paper Boy
-I had a mad crush on our paperboy, this kid who lived across the street and was about ten years older than me. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t even cute. Still, I liked having someone to count on, and who can you count on if not your paper carrier? Everyday, there he was, delivering a paper I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know how to read yet. He used to shoot the shit with me occasionally, which says a lot for his patience, since the shit I was shooting probably had a lot to do with coloring books and what happened today when Mr. Rogers visited the Neighborhood of Make Believe. Once when he was leaving, I casually yelled, “Hasta La Vista, Baby,” a line I’d learned from noted dating expert The Terminator. My mom, who loved/loves nothing more than antagonizing me, pointed out that I’d just called the paperboy “baby.” I ran inside so I could cry in private. I didn’t need a pre-K copy of The Rules to tell me I’d come across as desperate. Perhaps because of our age difference, or perhaps because of my Arnold-related gaffe, we never really “clicked.”

Shawn on Boy Meets World
-Cory who? I was so into Rider Strong, I cut out a tiny photo of him from Girl’s Life magazine and put it in a little heart frame on my desk. It’s not like I’m proud of that, okay? But it happened. Shawn, as you may remember, was the bad boy to Cory’s (boring) good boy. He wore a leather jacket! He lacked discipline! He had a turbulent home life! He rode a motorcycle (sometimes, maybe? I’m not sure if this actually happened)! Unfortunately, I internalized all of this adolescent attraction and started dating this type of guy when I got to college. Actually, Shawn is just a self-pierced nipple away from being my first two boyfriends (don’t worry, we’ll get to all that eventually). I just googled Rider Strong, and guess what? Still cute. I’m not sure how the grocery bagger or paper boy turned out, but at least I’ve always got Shawn.

“Just Give Me the Brian Jones,” I said

I would’ve liked to look like Janet Weiss:

Instead I look like this:

The resemblance was only apparent to me because I go to a salon decorated mostly with pictures of Keith Richards and a few pictures of other Stones thrown in for good measure. Brian Jones stared disapprovingly at me from a framed cover of MOJO magazine as if to say, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Lady Jams: Cyndi Lauper, “Hole in My Heart”

Sometimes a lady just needs to jam to a song by a strong, glamorous woman. Luckily for you, songs by strong, glamorous women are almost exclusively what I listen to!
Today’s Lady Jam is “Hole in My Heart” by the beautiful Cyndi Lauper. This video manages to be highlight just about every offensive stereotype about China (Chinese laundry?), but I can let it slide just because the song is so amazing and Cyndi is so perfect.

Listening to this song always makes me think of my far-away bestie Dan. We got kind of heavy into Cyndi in the last couple months of college. I remember picking him up at his scary apartment building (there was once unexplained blood on the doorknob and the neighbors were like trashy 24 hour party people or something), where he greeted me with a burned copy of Cyndi’s She’s So Unusual with a few Jay Reatard songs tacked on at the end. That CD’s still in my car, and sometimes I listen to it and remember how we played it on our drive to Cincinnatti, and how when All Through the Night played, Dan said that of course Cyndi couldn’t just play a straight slow jam, she had to add in some weird space ship noises. She’s so unusual, indeed.
I miss sitting on that uncomfortable futon, watching Degrassi, eating mini corn d’s, and laughing until I cried. There’s a hole in my heart that goes all the way to Indiana.

DJ Grandma Mug

A DJ name can make you or break you. If you’re a DJ, that is. If you’re an accountant, your DJ name probably won’t affect you much. There’s a small town bar a few streets away from me that boasts “DJ Glenn” on the weekends. That’s not even trying; putting DJ in front of your name does not a DJ name make. There’s no mystery to DJ Glenn. I already know exactly who he is: a guy named Glenn who DJs on the weekends.
One of the best DJ names I’ve heard recently was on the radio–DJ Dirty Elbows. There’s a name, you guys. First off, we get a picture in our minds. “Show, Don’t Tell” doesn’t just apply to writing, it also applies to DJ names. Secondly, DJ Dirty Elbows has an air of mystery. Man or woman? What kind of music does he/she play? Why are his/her elbows dirty? Maybe he/she works hard (elbow grease?) or maybe he/she just doesn’t shower enough. Possibly both, I don’t know! The point is, I’m intrigued. DJ Dirty Elbows says something about that DJ, and that’s what you want out of your DJ name.
Last night Alex and I brainstormed some ideas for my DJ name, based on things that are really “big” in my life right now:
DJ Greek Yogurt
DJ Sink Full of Dishes
DJ Green Smoothie
DJ Non-Toxic Bathroom Cleaner
DJ Wheat Thinz
DJ Slipper Socks
DJ Grandma Mug
Watch out, world. DJ Wheat Thinz is coming to a club near you. Watch out, I play a lot of Hall and Oates.