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February 16, 2004
They're just different

Guys, I mean.

There's a guy, we'll call him Annoying Andy, in this office who really irritates me and I never could figure out why. I mean, he's friendly enough and clearly he likes me (in the co-worker sense, I mean) but he gets on my nerves. Today I finally figured out what it is about him.

Although Annoying Andy is over 40, he acts just the way my brother did when he and I were 8 and 7, respectively. Annoying Andy finds the same kinds of things funny, pulls the same unfunny teasing pranks, and in general relates to me the way my brother did when we were in grade school.

It occurs to me that I've run into this before. It's almost always a single guy, too.

I begin to wonder (in a rude, sexist, and completely unfair sort of way) if boys don't become men unless they get married and have children or something.

Or if, in fact, a lot of them don't become men at all.

At some point, girls become women and it has little or nothing to do with marriage or reproduction. They get bored with adolescent or pre-adolescent behavior and move on.

A lot of men don't seem to do that. Of the three delivery people that regularly visit this office, one of the three of them (they're all men) acts exactly the same way and he's well over 50.

A guy at 50 finds the most of the same things interesting, or funny, that he liked when he was 15. That's sort of sad, in a way, donít you think?

Maybe it has to do with time.

It's been said that women are 'ruled' by the 4-week lunar cycle and in some ways that's probably true. Today, for instance, I'm acutely aware of the fact that it's been a full four weeks since I had my roots done. And I need a haircut. Every, single month I go through this.

Costs $95 bucks a trip to get cut and color and it has to be done every, single month unless I want to give up the 25-year battle I've been fighting against prematurely graying hair. (Genetics can be cruel.)

Most men, on the other hand, seem to drop by whatever barbershop or hair place they see when they're driving down the road and spend ten minutes and ten bucks about once a week. (As opposed to the 2-1/2 hours I have to invest each month.) Very few of them appear to have or would admit to having color work done.

They do it more often, but it doesn't take as long and there's no real commitment, not like having to make an appointment two weeks in advance . . . and suddenly my brain is going to a very bad comparison, so let's move on, shall we?

Seems to me there's some kind of short-attention-span thing going there that, with a little work, I could have turned into a diatribe against men but suddenly I'm out of the mood. I think I embarrassed myself.

You know what I really want out of life?

I was riding the elevator a few minutes ago, and there was a 6 year-old boy ricocheting around in there with me (and his mother) and I suddenly realized what I want out of life.

I want to live in a country where a forty-$!#static*%^ year-old woman can buy and wear a pair of those athletic shoes that light up when you walk, without being made fun of. Seriously. I think life would be excellent if my feet twinkled when I walked, don't you?

That's what I want. Today, anyhow.

(P.S. Someone finally explained that RSS thing to me. When I make a new post, it sends out a message or something and anyone who cared enough to sign up gets a notification. I hope no one is using it for this blog. I'd be embarrassed to have someone come dashing over here to read some new news or politics-related item and find something like this post.)

Posted by AnneZook at 01:37 PM


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