I want to start this off by saying that I am doing this for me and no one else. I’ve found myself often wishing for someone to talk to lately, someone willing to just LISTEN to ME for once, instead of expecting me to listen to them. Because as quiet and private as I am, there is always a screaming, loud, talkative girl in me dying for someone to just… Pay attention to me. Get to know me. For no other reason then because they want to. There was a boy, once, who was that someone for me, at a time when I felt utterly alone and locked in silence. There is a (large, girly, hyperactive, overly-romantic) part of me that hopes he reads this some day. That same part of me might, possibly be writing this partially to him… But that’s a discussion for another day entirely. For now, my dear imaginary readers, let’s start with the basic, cliche, and often used beginning for any blog- you can call me A. You are about to get a first class seat on the premiering of my crazy life as well as a up-close and personal look into the insanity that is my mind. If you knew me at all (which you don’t, thank god) you would know that running away would be the best option at this moment in time. However, if you chose to continue reading, I give my word that I shall try to make this as entertaining and painless as possible. Or maybe not… Beause, I mean,this is for me anyway, and you, my lovelies, don’t really exist yet!
I am female (I bet you thought I was a guy). I live in Dallas, TX. I work two jobs, which together average about 45 hours per week. I go to culinary school and am set to graduate with an Associate in Applied Sciences this September (hopefully). I am perpetually single, terrifyingly cynical when it comes to love and romance, and entirely skeptical of the probability for success in modern day marriages. I prefer cats to dogs. My favorite color is dark green (think emerald but darkened by forest). Usually I write these type of things in my journal. I often find myself amused at the strangest things and I believe this is because I often find myself having to chose between amusement and homicidal tendencies… and I really have no interest in jail-time (in-spite of how fascinating Orange is the New Black makes prison life appear). Therefore, amusement emerges regularly and sometimes in places it has no business being. Now, on to the actual blog.
Today’s topic (and the spark that started this fire) is:
The Definition of a Lady
I found myself being scolded at work tonight by a middle-aged female co-worker. This is not an unusual occurrence, but usually I just appease and move on. This time, however, I found myself thoroughly frustrated by the topic upon which she was harping… my un-lady-like-ness. You see, I work in a deli, and as a deli worker let me be the first to tell you that we go through a lot of trash. Most of the women in this department (and its mostly women, in this department) dislike taking out said trash and generally find a man to do so for them. I, on the other hand, prefer to simply do it myself. Shocking, isn’t it. Apparently this particular co-worker had never noticed my doing so and was appalled to discover it to be the case. I was called unladylike and told that, as a woman, I was supposed to find a man to do such tasks. All I could do was stand there and blink at her for several long seconds. And then it hit me, like a freight train, what it was exactly that she had just said to me. I couldn’t ( and still cannot) decide whether I was insulted or just intrigued. Either way, it stuck with me enough to go home and write this.
Yes, I am female, a woman, but I am not weak. And I AM a lady, thank you very much, even in the midst of taking out a heavy trashcan full of food. My class/status is not detracted from just because I lift heavy things, because I don’t shrink away from unpleasant tasks, because I chose to do something “unladylike”. I was raised to be independent, capable, and self-sufficient. Because, and I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you cannot always count on there being someone else there to do things for you.
To all the girls/women/females reading this… please know that a good man is going to respect your capabilities, not be intimidated or turned off by them. And if the latter is the case, well, perhaps he is not really worth your time anyway.
To all the guys/men/males reading this… I just want to say that there is something very attractive in a man who knows both how to genuinely offer assistance and how to gracefully accept when it is not needed.
So there you have it, my dear readers, my first blog. It’s not earth-shattering or life-changing, but it was nice to write it. It’s nice to think that someone, somewhere might read it and actually get something out of it. So, to all my fellow night-owls out there, and to anyone who might read this in the future, all I have left to say is Goodnight and pleasant dreams to you all.
Thanks for listening 😉