I've discovered I don't like girls. At times, I wish I could claim to be some other gender. Not a boy, because they have their own set of issues. But girls, they get annoying.
We were watching TV last night, and a woman said something like "They are strong women." That's nice and all, but I don't want to be a strong woman. I want to be a strong person. It irritates the hell out of me that a woman can make statements like "I want the women's team to win. They are strong women and deserve it." and everyone thinks "Oh, she's so proud of what she can do. Go Girl Power!" If a man said "The men on this team should win. They are strong men, and they deserve it" we would take him out and shoot him at dawn, glad to rid the world of one more chauvinist.
Girls get catty. They snipe at each other, bring out the tears, and say "I feel" an awful lot. That makes me cringe. Yes, I get snippy, I cry, and I talk about my feelings. But not in a work place, not to get ahead, and not as if it's my right. I like the way men fight. They say what the mean, they say it and move on, no one cries, and it's over. No big scenes, no picking sides for the next week based on crap like "but she's my friend".
Women say they want to be treated as equals, and they are tired of being seen as sex objects. Then they use whatever sexy tricks they know to make the sale. The eyelashes flutter, the cleavage peeks out of the business suit, and the hair is flowing all around, even if it might get tangled in the paper shredder some day. We are one breathy giggle away from channeling Marilyn Munroe.
In high school and college my best friends were always guys. They were straight forward and honest. If we went out on a Friday night together, they could say things like "Don't sit to close to me, or other girls will think I'm with you" and it would be okay. We would all have fun, and the night would end with a great game of pool, no cheating allowed. A girls night out generally meant at least one session in the bathroom while Girl A said "Can you believe she's wearing that? She looks like a hooker! And the way she is all over that guy!" and Girl B meanwhile is out dancing up a storm with the hot guy Girl A had "claimed" for herself an hour ago. The evening ends in tears, screaming, and whining along the lines of "She puked all over my new shoes! What a cow! I hate you all....sob sob."
Sometimes I think we should send out a memo: "Attention all feminists. We have achieved equality. In fact, we've surpassed it, and now it's time to stop asking for special treatment. If we want to be paid/treated/respected like men, we need to start acting like them. So quit your whining and bitching."
I already can feel the pink tinted animosity heading my way.