Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Women are from Venus

Now, I’d like to slow it down for the ladies…let’s lower that dimmer and pop open this bottle of fine, fine zinfandel and have a little “talk”…awww yeah.

Today I have a small list that perhaps only the fairer sex will understand, but they’ve been on my mind and I have to share:

1. Please tell me what is so hard about this: cover, don’t hover, whenever possible. I implore us as women to band together and make this one a mandate. John Stossel says there are more bacteria on your office phone than on a toilet seat. And for the most part, against my better judgment, I’m trusting a man with a mustache on this one. Why can’t we all just make it easy on ourselves and thrown down the protective sheet, or barring that, layers of TP? Cause at Kip’s Bay the other night, I almost gagged.

2. So, is it just me or should there be some sort of program where at-will, they don’t let you into a Duane Reade? Because I black out, and then come to right when the cashier is saying, “That’ll be eighty-nine dollars please” and I tell you, I’m jaw-dropped-shocked every single time. I must go into some sort of cheap-makeup-and-John-Frieda-product frenzy, waking up only at the near-end, never questioning why I would need both a hair straightening and a curl heightening balm, particularly when I already have versions of both at home.

3. Is it written in our microscopic strands that we must look each other up and down at every given moment, not stopping until we find a flaw in an ensemble’s fashion validity or price, hairstyle, hair coloring, foundation, painted nails, short arms, jutting toes, personality or purchased body-parts (“those boobs are so fake” and “you call that re-structured nub a nose”)? I’ve no answer on this one; I’m just seeing over and over how women can be each other’s biggest enemies in so many ways. I’m not sure we can learn to curb that inner bitch; I’m just recycling an old proposal that we try to. Things are hard enough in New York and our constant needs to trade up: jobs, wardrobes, apartments, men. Do we really need to be tearing each other apart as well?

7 comments:

Another twentysomething said...

Ah yes. the ol' "Manhattan Oce-over" you describe in #3. My solution? A good man. A good man you can go home to knowing it doesn't matter how updated your brows are. Then, I've noticed anyway, that I started caring less about the catty up-and-down looks

themarina said...

1. Completely with you on this one. It would make going to a public bathroom so much easier.

2. I'm the same at the book store. Yesterday I went in for 1 $10 book. Walked out $30 and 3 books later. What happened?

3. I can't say I'm one of 'those' that give the look over because I've been on the receiving end of them more than once and they suck. Big time. Talk about making you feel insignificant with one look. I honestly think the only way this will ever disappear is if there were no men left and we were all "fat and happy" and the saying goes. However, I have this bad feeling that some of us wouldn't still encounter the once over.

m said...

I hear ya. Women are so mean to one another. I remember I was watching the Miss Universe pagent with my 2 friends. My friend (who is a guy) was complementing all the women while my other friend (who is a girl) and I were pointing out all their flaws. sigh...

Deliciously Tormented said...

This tearing apart thing you speak of happens elsewhere outside the Big Apple as well.

It's a disease, and it's everywhere.

Miss Scarlett said...

SERIOUSLY! Once we tested for bacteria in bio lab and the girl's tongue ring had more bacteria than a toilet seat, I stopped being worried about it. Obviously I don't sit in urine (*GAG*), but it's not always necessary to try to hover. I'm not a hummingbird.

Serena said...

Amen, sister, amen!

debo said...

I hear you on the Duane Reade. I always leave there wondering why condoms are so expensive. If you ladies would stop insisting on their use so adamantly, you could save us guys a few bucks that could be used for more important things.