"I'm not like other women you know."
I've been thinking more and more about getting myself into a writing groove, and specifically, resurrecting this blog. The truth is, it has served different purposes for me over the years - therapy, inspiration, creative outlet, etc. And often when I'm thinking about writing, I try to come up with some sort of clever line as a post title, to hone my headline-writing skills and to serve as a sort of focus, or theme. This particular one struck when I was in the shower. It's not that salacious, despite the context it developed in.
"I'm not like other women you know." That provided the spark. I actually spoke those words to a gentleman the other night (and yes, he actually WAS one). As soon as I uttered that turn of phrase, I realized it was a big batch of bullshit. Because I know a lot of cool chicks, and the truth is that we're a pretty, down 'n dirty collective.
Although it may have been more of an observation based on one interaction, it got me thinking...about those elusive, flat, modelesque Barbie perceptions of women, how men perceive us, and how we tend to blow their minds on a regular basis. I covered a wide range of topics with aforementioned unnamed gentleman, from politics to microbrews to ravens to seahawks to music and back again. As I gathered up my coat and purse, he asked me for my number and remarked for the last time that he hadn't covered this much ground in conversation with a woman in quite some time. I replied, "Are you sure you want my number? Because it seems you might have terrible taste in women and I can guarantee you I have an opinion and preference on just about anything you ask about. It seems you aren't used to this, so I'll let that sink in and you come find me at this barstool in a few weeks…"
Here's the thing, and the essence of what it means to be me, a single woman navigating life as I know it at this time:
I am the kind of woman who employs her beauty regimen by painting her nails and rocking a pore-minimizing face masque while drinking a beer and catching up on The Walking Dead. I dress up when the mood strikes me, but look and feel better in jeans and moto-boots. My apartment cleaning routine resembles something of a whirling dervish with a swiffer. I don't feel guilty about oversleeping and taking time for myself. I have to be in just the right mindset to go shopping for clothing, but I never mind wandering the grocery store aisles. I will laugh at you if you say or do something ridiculous, planned or unplanned; if you are put off by this, you are too serious to hang out with me. Dealbreakers include wearing socks with sandals and bad taste in music; let's face it, if your playlists consist of EDM and include Justin Bieber, we're not going to be compatible. I often have no idea what I'm doing, but I'll admit to it and it doesn't stop me from trying; if I don't have a problem with that, you shouldn't either. I need time to myself and enjoy long walks alone; you need to have your own thing and disappear from time-to-time in order for me to not get super-skeptical of your intentions or believe you'll pull a "Buffalo Bill/Hannibal Lecter" episode down the road. I slip in and out of bad habits and I don't beat myself up over it. I'm often stumped by the question, "How are you?", because I don't know if I should give the honest answer or the socially acceptable one. I'll try almost anything once; I'm game if you are.
Probably not the most eloquent personal ad of all time, but I feel like I need a disclaimer sometimes when dealing with the opposite sex. We assume so much about each other on first glance, first interactions and socially acceptable standards. Most of the women I know have incredible depth, character and are what you would consider "atypical females". So when will the standard change to fit those generalizations? Or do I just know rad women who are nothing like the rest of the population? I choose to believe the answer lies somewhere in the middle. Most women in my circle are able to pull off the total package without breaking a sweat.
Perceived flaws are in the eye of the beholder, and they're the differences that make us unique. Flaws equal charm - infuriating, personal, quirky goodness. We've all got our randomness, so it's time for me to flip the script and take note of those things that I find curious, but not to rule anything out until more of the facts are in. And that's not "compromising" but rather being aware of the fact that most people are just as weird as I am and allowing a little berth to reveal and assess it. I hope for the same thing for myself, so I'll look for that man back at that barstool and pick up the conversation at a happy hour in the future...
"I'm not like other women you know." That provided the spark. I actually spoke those words to a gentleman the other night (and yes, he actually WAS one). As soon as I uttered that turn of phrase, I realized it was a big batch of bullshit. Because I know a lot of cool chicks, and the truth is that we're a pretty, down 'n dirty collective.
Although it may have been more of an observation based on one interaction, it got me thinking...about those elusive, flat, modelesque Barbie perceptions of women, how men perceive us, and how we tend to blow their minds on a regular basis. I covered a wide range of topics with aforementioned unnamed gentleman, from politics to microbrews to ravens to seahawks to music and back again. As I gathered up my coat and purse, he asked me for my number and remarked for the last time that he hadn't covered this much ground in conversation with a woman in quite some time. I replied, "Are you sure you want my number? Because it seems you might have terrible taste in women and I can guarantee you I have an opinion and preference on just about anything you ask about. It seems you aren't used to this, so I'll let that sink in and you come find me at this barstool in a few weeks…"
Here's the thing, and the essence of what it means to be me, a single woman navigating life as I know it at this time:
I am the kind of woman who employs her beauty regimen by painting her nails and rocking a pore-minimizing face masque while drinking a beer and catching up on The Walking Dead. I dress up when the mood strikes me, but look and feel better in jeans and moto-boots. My apartment cleaning routine resembles something of a whirling dervish with a swiffer. I don't feel guilty about oversleeping and taking time for myself. I have to be in just the right mindset to go shopping for clothing, but I never mind wandering the grocery store aisles. I will laugh at you if you say or do something ridiculous, planned or unplanned; if you are put off by this, you are too serious to hang out with me. Dealbreakers include wearing socks with sandals and bad taste in music; let's face it, if your playlists consist of EDM and include Justin Bieber, we're not going to be compatible. I often have no idea what I'm doing, but I'll admit to it and it doesn't stop me from trying; if I don't have a problem with that, you shouldn't either. I need time to myself and enjoy long walks alone; you need to have your own thing and disappear from time-to-time in order for me to not get super-skeptical of your intentions or believe you'll pull a "Buffalo Bill/Hannibal Lecter" episode down the road. I slip in and out of bad habits and I don't beat myself up over it. I'm often stumped by the question, "How are you?", because I don't know if I should give the honest answer or the socially acceptable one. I'll try almost anything once; I'm game if you are.
Probably not the most eloquent personal ad of all time, but I feel like I need a disclaimer sometimes when dealing with the opposite sex. We assume so much about each other on first glance, first interactions and socially acceptable standards. Most of the women I know have incredible depth, character and are what you would consider "atypical females". So when will the standard change to fit those generalizations? Or do I just know rad women who are nothing like the rest of the population? I choose to believe the answer lies somewhere in the middle. Most women in my circle are able to pull off the total package without breaking a sweat.
Perceived flaws are in the eye of the beholder, and they're the differences that make us unique. Flaws equal charm - infuriating, personal, quirky goodness. We've all got our randomness, so it's time for me to flip the script and take note of those things that I find curious, but not to rule anything out until more of the facts are in. And that's not "compromising" but rather being aware of the fact that most people are just as weird as I am and allowing a little berth to reveal and assess it. I hope for the same thing for myself, so I'll look for that man back at that barstool and pick up the conversation at a happy hour in the future...
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