oldies, but goodies...

Happy 4th of July!!! I just got home and showered up after a couple days at Richmond Lake in Aberdeen, South Dakota. It was a lot of fun! I've been blog brainstorming all weekend :-) I feel pretty guilty about taking a couple of days off from writing. I am heading out the door, but wanted to give y'all something to read. This is one of my old pieces of writing... trust me, it's a goodie! I hope you enjoy!

"I'm a Girl"

            I’m a girl. My long brown hair can be transformed into pigtails and braids. I use Barbies to create stories that take place in far off places where life is perfect. The jungle gym is my favorite place on the playground. I dress myself in pink overalls and Mary Jane shoes. I talk to myself. My imagination takes over reality, and I prefer it that way. Boys are stupid. They like trucks and bugs. I can’t stand it when they parade those slimy creatures in front of my face. Dis-gust-ing! I’m glad I’m a girl.

            I’m a teenager. My eyelids are blue, carefully lined with a complimenting navy blue Cover Girl pencil. Mom has just let me highlight my hair. Finally. I drive my own red Pontiac to school. It’s nothing special, but it’s better than the old beater that Tiffany drives. I’m on the dance team. I haven’t quite made Captain yet. But after a few summer camps, I will be sure to have the spot. My boyfriend’s name is Jake. He’s nice enough. More importantly, he’s hot. He drives a Jeep Cherokee, and man is it smokin’! All the girls are jealous, I just know it. Dad says I’m boy crazy. I say, he’s crazy. He just doesn’t get that I’m a girl.

            I’m an independent woman. After college, I got a job working at a publishing company. I get my nails done every Saturday after my weekly massage from Chico. Man is he a looker. Who wouldn’t want a rub down from a Mexican hunk? I live in a loft in Chicago. Banana Republic has become my favorite store, allowing my wardrobe to consist of pencil skirts and ruffled blouses. My happy hours include dirty martinis and sleek looks from men across the bar. My life is good. Mom is jealous. Dad says I spend too much. They just don’t know what it takes to be a girl.

            I’m a woman. I really felt like it today at the gynecologist. And I don’t mean that I felt “it”, as it that unpleasant metal thing they stick up my vagina. “This will only hurt a little,” my male doctor says to me. Please. Like he knows what it’s like. And, why does he ask me about the weather? After having my tits squeezed and pushed in every direction, I was ready to tell him to shut the hell up. I mean, who cares that it hasn’t rained in a week? Men. They piss me off. They just don’t know what it’s like to be a girl.

            I’m a lady. It’s what all females aspire to. I’m sitting at dinner with a friend. My new satin-trim sheath cocktail dress has been carefully accessorized to complete the look. A plate of fondue and great conversation with an old friend is my favorite way to wrap up the work week. A man buys me a drink. Maybe I like him. He says he is an entrepreneur and is wearing snakeskin loafers. He wants to go home with me. As I walk out of the restaurant alone, I remind myself that I am a lady.