It has been raining for far too long the past couple weeks. And there is nothing worse than a string of gloomy days to make me all introspective and philosophical. At least that’s what happens to me when Mother Nature gets all soggy on me. I start musing over this that and the next thing, examining the wayward dynamics of life on this human journey.
Good thing I don’t live in Seattle.
I’d probably be a poet. And flat broke. Because I am not a poet and I know it. Any prior attempts I’ve made to construct a creative verse or two just reads like the insane ramblings of a homeless maniac.
Where is my life?
Where has it gone?
It was here a moment ago.
I think I left it on the counter.
Next to my keys . . .
See?
Crap.
Told ya.
So instead I’ll just torture my blog fans with my rainy musings of late which is:
What is it with women and friendships? We are either clinging to each other like Titanic survivors or ripping each other to shreds with unnecessary drama. Truly, some days I find myself wondering: if I had a penis would my life consist of blissful boring exchanges about beer and bimbos?
After all, men don't appear to have any drama, not the kind women do. No matter what happens between them they just sail along all even and blah. No matter what.
They do! Don't believe me? Well, when is the last time you’ve overheard a couple guys exchange the following:
“That Doug, I tell you. I could not believe he gave my secret BBQ recipe to Stan. He knew it was a secret, yet he just went blabbing it with zero regard for my feelings. So you know what I did? I sent him a text and told him exactly what I thought about that. Yes I did. See if I invite him to my Super Bowl party. And he can forget about that hunting trip to Montana in the fall.”
Uh, yeah. That doesn’t happen. Men are more like this:
“Doug, you gave Stan my BBQ recipe? What the f*ck?”
“F*ck You.”
“Oh yeah? F*ck you.”
Two seconds of silence.
“Wanna get a beer?”
“F*ck yeah.”
Hello? They grunt at each other and drop a few f-bombs. Either men suffer from short term memory loss and verbal communication shortfalls or they totally have friendships figured out.
Because really? I think we women routinely make Everest out of speed bumps. We don’t let anything roll off our back. We brood, we sulk, and then we tell five other girlfriends all about how we were wronged in a transparent effort to rally the troops to our side should “she” start talking smack behind our backs.
It is exhausting.
I have two great friends I’ve had for twenty years. They’ve seen me at my worst and they still love me, and vice versa. It's effortless.
In other words, we’ve evolved to a guy type of friendship. We’ve been through so much together that if things ever do go south and one of them gives my super secret aunt Edna's BBQ recipe away you know what will happen?
This:
“Thanks for pimping out my BBQ to Marge, bee-otch."
“Kiss my bumper, ya hooker. Marge won't remember it anyway."
Two seconds of silence.
“I've got some wine chilled, want a glass?”
“Absolutely.”
Now that’s.
What you call a real friendship.
(And I didn't even need to grow a penis!)
Hilarious!
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