I’ve never been a girly girl.
This is a topic I’ve written about before and one I often battle with. When I see a gaggle of gals giggling and gallivanting with one another (I’ve been practicing my alliteration skills lately), I feel like a sad puppy staring out onto the sidewalk from inside the pet store window while simultaneously throwing up poopy newspaper that I ate from the bottom of the cage.
Having large herds of girlfriends and playing with each other’s hair and going on shopping trips together is something I’d like to do, but physically can’t make myself act on.
Maybe it’s because I’m an only child and am still perplexed at 29 as to how to play well with others or maybe it’s because as a child most adults thought I’d be a future lesbian due to my lack of wanting to dress as Cinderella or Madonna and instead reveled in pretending I was Rod Serling or Groucho Marx. Who the hell wants to be a blonde chick with no decipherable talents? I’d rather be a middle-aged Jewish (more…)