The other day, I was spending some time with a friend of mine. This particular friend of mine is one who often sincerely confuses me for "one of the guys". He is rarely successful in maintaining the delicate balance of comfortable friendship with a female, and over-stating what surely must be secrets of the "guy code". I was joking with him, reminding him of the fact that I sometimes make it difficult for him to remember that I am, in fact, a lady.
It was a thought said in jest, but it has so resonated with me. So much so, that I have scribbled little notes ALL over the place as I've thought them. I am a paradox within myself. I will be the first to admit that I can be kind of an odd duck, but I don't think I had ever really penned the things that make me so confusing.
Without further adieu, here you have the things that make me "one of the guys" and the girliest girl you'll ever meet.
I like beer. (This probably has more to do with the fact that it's a WHOLE lot easier for me to manage a bottle than one of those tricky martini glasses, but still.)
I rarely go anywhere without makeup on.
I love baseball.
I love stilettos.
I can talk music with the best of them (for days).
I love girly romantic comedies.
I am OK if the toilet seat doesn't get put down. You have to expend the energy to lift it up EVERY.SINGLE.TIME, the least I could do is expend the same energy the couple of times you forget.
I love dancing around my apt singing my heart into a hairbrush (Miley's usually REALLY great for this).
I can talk theology (maybe not with the best of them, but certainly for days).
If my life depended on it, I still couldn't spit.
I sometimes curse. A lot.
I love cooking, cleaning, laundry, and all things pertaining to "keeping the home."
Sometimes, even if I am really really really interested in what you're saying, all I hear is the music that's playing.
I always. ALWAYS. cry when I hear/watch anything involving American soldiers/the flag/the military.
I have calluses on my fingers from playing (around at) guitar.
John Mayer Trio, Who Did You Think I Was?