I’ve never been a girly-girl. Yes, I wear make-up sometimes, and yes, I like wearing heels, but I’m not the girly-girl type.
I don’t like wearing dresses, skirts and other women’s clothing, and I sure as hell don’t like ‘women’s colors’. The color pink nauseates me, and I think it’s wrong that pink is associated with women. Because, fun fact, pink used to symbolize male royalty way back in time while blue was associated with females.Â
I also hate acrylic nails, or getting my nails done in general. I had acrylic nails once and I absolutely despised it. Plus, they just cost way too much money in my opinion.Â
Anyway, as you can clearly tell, I’ve never been the ‘typical girl’. Nor will I ever be, because I consider myself to be “one of the boys.” Â
Something that guys do that really amuses me is when they try to talk in terms that they think women won’t understand.
For example, I’m a part of WSBU’s (St. Bonaventure’s radio station) sports section and when we have our weekly meetings, I’m the only woman there. Now, I don’t have an issue with that because the career path I’ve chosen is 99.9% men. I took Automotive Technology in high school, which also was mostly men, but it really pisses me off when they try to “dumb you down” by talking about something they think you know nothing about.
I hate to tell you boys, but I know what you mean when you ask, “is it going to be over or under 13 tonight?”, or when you say, “John Doe came out of LSU in the first round.”Â
Another thing that I understand, and probably more so than most of the men I know and met, is cars. I went to work with my dad over Easter break for his last day of work as he retired. Well, my dad worked at a mechanic shop, and he worked with all men. I hate to say it, but I’ve never seen a female mechanic at a shop, ever. And if they do do work, they aren’t doing the work that my dad did, or the work that I can do.
Anyway, on my dad’s last day of work, all the guys were hanging out and talking with him. Since it is a mechanic shop, a lot of car, and truck, lingo was being thrown around. Obviously, the guys there know me through my dad and weren’t going to try to “dumb me down,” but I think they were impressed by the fact that I knew exactly what I was talking about. When they talked about compression ratios and brake cans, and how you got to get it “top dead center” I knew everything they were talking about.Â
In conclusion, I am one of the boys. Not only do I understand everything the boys are saying and can dissect it in my head, but I can contribute to the conversation as well and actually talk with the men. Instead of being excluded and feeling left out, I can become part of the conversation, make myself known, impress men and assert dominance.
Because, let’s face it, women rule the world :-) Â