Backlogged Blog

It's been long enough since I've written that I have several posts in my head just waiting to work their way through the bottle neck and become actual reading material. SO! Instead of me trying to write every single one of them and making several long posts in one day, we're doing a shortened version of each here. (Yay! It's kinda like a list!)

The Female Enigma
Here's what I don't get. You hear women say there is a Sisterhood among us. That powerful things occur when women gather without men. And yet, you also hear women ~ myself included ~ say things along the lines of how we get along better with men than with other women. And I have watched women be harder on other women in professional situations. The Cat Fight is practically cliche. You can't turn on a daytime talk show without watching two women calling each other names while the man sits between them looking all proud of himself when, in reality, he's the one who's cheating on both of THEM. So which is it? The Cat Fight or the Sisterhood? I pray to everything holy we can manage the Sisterhood. Men are Fabulous! I love men. Any man between 18 and death works for me. And yet...it's my girlfriends. It's the Sisterhood. I just hope we can find a way to embrace the Sisterhood as strongly as we have embraced the Cat Fight. Which seques nicely into...

Girlfriends
What's the difference between a female friend and a Girlfriend? (this is assuming one is heterosexual and female) And there is a difference. It's like art or porn, I suppose. I'm not sure what it is but I know what it isn't. When a male friend recently stepped on an old, silly trigger of mine who did I run it by for a reality check? A Girlfriend. When I had two days completely off, who did I go see? A Girlfriend. Who did I invite to come with me? A Girlfriend. A female friend of mine is getting married and I am SO EXCITED for her. Yet once I saw the ring, we were both ready to move on. Didn't need to spend the next three days talking about it. I've been playing email/phone tag with a female friend. I hope we catch up. And, if we don't... Ah well. And then there are those in between people. There are three of them in my life right now. Women who are female friends but I want them as Girlfriends. But what's the difference? And how does one make that transition? And is it even something that can be decided upon? Or do you just wake up one day and realize she's a Girlfriend? Again, I don't know. I know I am grateful for my female friends. I am grateful for my Girlfriends. Let's face it; this isn't a bad dilemma to have.

Impotence is Bliss
(WARNING: If you consider me daughterly in any way shape or form, you might want to skip this paragraph) Okay, I'm not really impotent but it makes a great title, doesn't it? What IS going on is that I have no sex drive at all. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. Not interested. Really could care less. In some ways, this is distressing to me. I'm in a relationship that, while it is winding down, has always been ~ahem~ just fine in that area. Also, what if it's gone forever? I mean...Wow. Really would rather that not be the case. On the other hand, however, it's not as bad as you might think. Let's be honest ~ hormones can get you in more trouble than a shoe sale and a box of chocolate combined. I write, hang out with my friends, snuggle with my fella, and life goes on quite nicely. Now, that being said...

20 Year Old Guilt
Wow am I horrible. I have a crush. I have a crush on someone I really ~ I mean REALLY ~ shouldn't have a crush on. But he's adorable. And he's legal. And I don't want a relationship with him, for heaven's sake. I just want to borrow him for a month or so. Borrow him from his small town and his Southern girlfriend and bring him up here to Boston for a little while. They can have him back. It's not like I want to keep him forever. Now, before anybody panics, I am NOT going to do a damn thing about this. I am ~ believe it or not ~ an adult. I can be trusted in a room alone with him and everything. But good heavens. I don't remember them looking like that. Maybe Mrs. Robinson wasn't so crazy afterall.

It's Not All About Me
This is my new motto. I know, this sounds pretty shocking coming from The Boston Pobble considering we all know it actually IS all about me so let me explain. I have decided that if someone else responds in a way I don't understand, that is unexpected, that is...whatever...It's Not All About Me. Basically, what I'm doing here is giving up rejection issues. They were fun while they lasted but I really think the relationship has run its course and I'm moving on. So, if someone doesn't call or doesn't want to hang or isn't into something I am or seems distant I will no longer get bent about it. Why? (Say it with me...) It's Not All About Me. Now, that being said, if someone comes to me and says "This IS about you" then I will listen. Otherwise, I'm going to assume that the people who tell me they love me actually do AND that they love me enough to call me out on my shit and not pussy foot around me about it. We'll see where this takes me. It's a little scary but exciting too. I'll keep you posted.

Fred and Snack
Fred and Snack are my dachshunds. Now, I don't have dachshunds ~ and may never have dachshunds. But if I ever do, by God, their names are going to be Fred and Snack!

Shipping
So, earlier I sat down at Bob, My Hoo-Hah Computer (yes, that's his name) and did some online shopping for things I needed. Now, these were things I actually, really did need unlike that sexy pair of black sandals or that great bag that is on sale for $50. No, these are things I actually NEED. And I found a site that gave me pretty good prices so I had a basket with nearly 15 things in it for less than 200 bucks. As I said, not bad. And then I hit the checkout button. My bill was over 300 dollars! You read that correctly. Over THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS! Over one hundred dollars in shipping charges. You know, I can grab some friends and a shopping cart and hit Target a couple of different times for a hundred bucks. Three hundred dollars! Please...

So, there you have it. The backlog of Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.