We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
On holiday tonight and tomorrow. I plan to grill some burgers and to be served a few Coronas by a lightly-garbed sweetie who always needs to be reminded to bring me limes. The burgers will happen, but the other part is just a dream. Northern women don't seem to even want to try to understand men.
Some of us Northern women still love men,and care to understand them. Some of us may be snippy and opinionated about politics and social issues, but still tenderhearted about a beloved.
Tho sheer negligees are just tacky! If someone loved me, they would love me in my grimy gardening clothes. Especially if they saw and smelled my roses!
I am nevertheless in awe of and intimidated by useless, sexy babes, and I can see why men stare at them. The men I know get a lot of fun out of ogling such pictures. I have to say, tho, I don't go for the beefcake equivalents. I am likelier to stare fondly at a small picture of my beloved, or daydream about talking to him when real life gets to me... But maybe hotter females are just as into ogling men as vice versa?
As for me, I'm a helpmate, not a playmate. In youth, I was the girl next door, the one boys poured their hearts out to about the cruel heartless popular girls they were in love with. In our family now, I'm the one who supports the family, who is out hacking brush and toting topsoil and digging who would like somebdy to be bringing me a cold drink as I finally crash on the couch of an evening. My kids laugh because whenever I see the "there's strong, and then there's Army strong!" ads on TV I'm exclaiming how I wish I was young enough to join up. "Your mom is such a sucker for a slick advertising campaign!" husband drawls from above his laptop... I'm the disciplinarian and subduer of a violent and disturbed kid. But of course, being female, every evening, holiday or no, I am actually still standing, cooking dinner in my denim skirt and t shirt.
I don't understand men, but it's not for lack of trying. I sometimes agree with that saying of Katherine Hepburn's about how men and women shouldn't marry and live together, they should just live next door and just visit...
I have this theory that modern life has made it easier for men and women to be friends, and good coworkers, but more difficult for them to love and cherish each other. Except perhaps impossibly, unrequitedly from a distance. Is it just like what we used to call the college incest taboo: harder to love and lust after someone you see at 6 am over cafeteria coffee, and go to school with everyday? "Our" men usually went to Wellesley or Pine Mattress--er--Manor for dates, as they found us Cliffies unromantic. But the odd thing was that most of us ended up marrying each other in the end. Finding intelligence, and the prospect of smart kids more attractive than pneumatic bods.
A man's intelligence attracts me far more than his physical appearance, so long as he is in reasonable shape, and clean. That and a work ethic, honesty, fondness for me, for kids and animals. Most of the men I have been fond of are probably somewhat funny looking, but what drew me was (corny as it sounds) their mind, and their kindness, and their humor. Assortative mating governs the choices of our hearts more than most of us like to admit: since I'm no great catch, it figures that I've loved some pretty odd ducks in my time!
Excuse the blather, why can't a woman be more like a man? Professor Higgins knew how different we are. I wonder if the pneumatic bimbos are happy?