Was my hair was in the wrong decade?
Wayne's World, 1992 |
All I needed was flannel and screeching out "SHWINGGGGGGG!"
When I looked in the mirror at work today I wish I could cut it all off. My hair always battled me till the death which meant a messy ponytail. I want to dye it some crazy color and outrageous style.
No, my husband prefers the librarian or Daria (MTV) look. Maybe he has some weird obsession with Wayne's World. Excellent..Sigh.
Truth be told, I don't feel attractive with long mousy brown (frizzy) hair.
I pondered how others made people in their lives happy. Could it be you stopped doing a hobby you were passionate about? Wore things you swore up and down you would never wear?
What is the point if it isn't reciprocated?
I have had former lovers that put on pressure to cave to their wants. Stupidly I obliged.
Lets face it, women want to get laid almost as much as the dudes.
The weird hair episode peaked my interest. What do we do to make others happy?
We go to events that are gender oppressed, wear frilly thongs, wax things that shouldn't be waxed, conform to some weird definition of what a women should be.
Realistically we demand the same from men. We force them to go to ballets, eat healthy food and buy tampons. How masculine is it to our betrothed?
Somehow in a relationship we gift wrap it as a give and take. Give the orders and face the embarrassment from the world.
What do we do to make ourselves happy? I once heard life is a crap sandwich and everyone has to take a bite.
It is only fair.
I surveyed people on social media. Majority of people buy ice cream or frozen yogurt to make themselves feel better. Men and women. Another myth of a dumped lady crying in a tub of ice cream busted!
My answer was a trip to New York City or the fall back of red wine an chocolate.
I guess men and women are not that different. We eat to feel comfort and want to buy a house or car to feel good (if we can afford it).
When it comes down to it, it is ego for the most part. We want to be seen as an amazing significant other.
Does my husband really think I enjoy long hair in the summer and dry hair in the winter? Do I really enjoy listening to the babbling about how smart he is at whatever he is talking about?
No!
I do it because I want him to think I'm a lovely wife and make sure he knows where he sleeps at night.
I'm sure other than the thrill and semi pornographic naked ladies, he could care less about Sex and the City. He could give a rat's ass if Carrie ended up with Big or Aidan. As long as the sex scenes and nudity kept showing he was as sound as a pound (Austin Powers reference).
He made fun of my blue nail polish the other day. You know what? Too bad. We both do things we don't want to do. We should at least have something that makes us happy.
For me I love drinking red wine and watching Nick at Nite. He loves making spoon tracks in the carton of ice cream and Vanilla Ice's reality show.
I get lost in memoirs and become intrigued about other people's life history. He loves naps and eating a bag of chips and leaving three chips in a bag before calling it quits.
It is the dumb shit that makes us happy. If you can find someone who lets you do your own thing after the humiliating demands, it isn't surrendering.
That is love, babe.
No comments:
Post a Comment