It may surprise no one here to learn that I was a tomboy. How much of a tomboy? Well, when I was 8 and played little league baseball (not softball), I surpassed all my boy teammates in machismo by using three bats at once for my warm up swings while on deck. I also had short spiky hair and was fond of dressing like my brothers. So do not take it lightly when I say I am now a woman.
What has made me, at the age of 33, feel as if I have broken through the barrier and become a fully fledged adult female? Excellent question. I enjoy conversing with a perceptive audience. It did not happen when I wore my first dress, shaved my legs for the first time (which is where I'm certain they got the title for "There Will Be Blood"), nor did it occur when I finally plucked my unibrow. Make-up? No. Growing my hair out so I would no longer be called sir? No. My wedding day? Not on your life. So what did cause this bold pronouncement?
Saturday night, in a very atypical response to stress, I watched TV and ate ice cream directly from the carton. As I sat there, wishing I had some cheesecake to munch on so that I might be more like my heroes The Golden Girls, I basked in the glory of my own femininity. Picture it, me in sweats, legs unshaved, curled up on the couch watching Season 3 of Parks and Recreation - a cardboard tub of Vanilla bean ice cream resting on my belly. It...was...beautiful. The only thing that kept it from being the epitome of a womanly evening was that I was watching a comedy. I cannot watch romantic movies. There is too much of the tomboy left in me. However, I do cry at commercials and at most touching moments in comedy. It's an area of shame, but one I'm apparently comfortable sharing with the entire world, aka, the five people that read my blog.
I understand that I have just grossly stereotyped all women everywhere, but I feel okay about it. I still wish I had some cheesecake and a lanai and three female friends I lived with to complete the moment, but no moment in life is truly perfect. In case you're wondering, yes, I would be the Bea Arthur of the group. Just call me Dorothy...