Likes: Glee, The Sound of Music, kitties (and in turn, blogging about kitties), Broadway musicals, sitting and chatting with the girls, Lady Gaga, Facebooking, American Idol, long walks on the beach…well, okay, probably not the last one. Yeah, despite the fact that the average person could read this list and assume it belongs to a female, the list belongs to me. I can’t deny that my tastes lean towards “girlie”.
I don’t hunt and I don’t fish, which you would assume would automatically preclude me from being issued a Minnesota driver’s license.
Exacerbating my situation is the fact that I work in an industry that is filled with manly men. The average person who works in the same building as me is a hard-living, hard-loving, hard-drinking, rough talking, hunting, fishing, football-watching ball of testosterone.
Me? I actually have to go to the doctor every two weeks to get a shot of EXTRA testosterone.
I’m not kidding.
I try not to reveal too many of my feminine tendencies. (Well, except to the dozen people who read my blog.)
The men’s room at the office, in addition to an occasional Cabela’s catalogue, is typically stocked with macho-style reading material of which I have no interest:
The Minnesota Hunting & Trapping Regulations Handbook 2010
Classic Motorcycles “RIDE ‘EM, DON’T HIDE ‘EM”…Special Project Bike Finale!!!
InFisherman Panfish 2010 Guide – “The World’s Foremost Authority on Panfish”…Riprap Crappies!!!
Popular Science – Cyborg Spy Bugs…“Terrifying Science or Innocent Research”
This leads me to ask four questions…
1. How can Cabela’s have absolutely nothing in stock that I would want to purchase?
2. Who knew there was a magazine about panfish?
3. Who knew there was something called a panfish?
4. If I were to bring in my latest copy of Broadway Musical Digest, would it automatically provoke co-workers to “pants” me at the next staff meeting?
As the scary Sharon Angle told Harry Reid in the Nevada debate, maybe I need to “man up” a bit, but I wonder if it is possible at this point in my life.
When I find myself in a room full of men I have to hope they are talking Twins or Vikings.
Beyond that, I try to keep my mouth shut. I would hate to blurt out a question like…say…“what is a panfish?”
After watching Sunday night’s Vikings/Packers game, I can’t guarantee how long I’ll watch football either.
I know a lot more about “Project Runway” than I do “American Chopper.” I would rather watch “Ellen” than “NASCAR This Week.”
I brake for squirrels and I have two tools…a hammer and a screwdriver. I’m not that good with either one.
Now, we are closing in on the holidays. I might shop on Black Friday, and I can’t wait until The Hallmark Channel starts running their Christmas movies.
Ladies, you are invited over the first time they run “A House Without a Christmas Tree.” I’ll whip up a batch of crème brulee.
If there are any doubts about my actual gender, I do have a few guy-like tendencies. I don’t think I have ever cleaned the bathroom since we moved into our house. I can kind of grow a beard.
I like boobs!
Now if I can stay out of any conversations involving panfish at work…
*****
Thanks to everyone for the support over the past couple of weeks after we lost our furry friend, Joe. It is obvious I’m not the only one who gets overly attached to their pets. The scratch on my arm from his final day with us is nearly faded, but still reminds me of him every day. His ghost seems to walk the rooms of our house, at least in my mind. I miss him immensely. I’m glad that periodically I got to share some of his life with some of you.
I don’t hunt and I don’t fish, which you would assume would automatically preclude me from being issued a Minnesota driver’s license.
Exacerbating my situation is the fact that I work in an industry that is filled with manly men. The average person who works in the same building as me is a hard-living, hard-loving, hard-drinking, rough talking, hunting, fishing, football-watching ball of testosterone.
Me? I actually have to go to the doctor every two weeks to get a shot of EXTRA testosterone.
I’m not kidding.
I try not to reveal too many of my feminine tendencies. (Well, except to the dozen people who read my blog.)
The men’s room at the office, in addition to an occasional Cabela’s catalogue, is typically stocked with macho-style reading material of which I have no interest:
The Minnesota Hunting & Trapping Regulations Handbook 2010
Classic Motorcycles “RIDE ‘EM, DON’T HIDE ‘EM”…Special Project Bike Finale!!!
InFisherman Panfish 2010 Guide – “The World’s Foremost Authority on Panfish”…Riprap Crappies!!!
Popular Science – Cyborg Spy Bugs…“Terrifying Science or Innocent Research”
This leads me to ask four questions…
1. How can Cabela’s have absolutely nothing in stock that I would want to purchase?
2. Who knew there was a magazine about panfish?
3. Who knew there was something called a panfish?
4. If I were to bring in my latest copy of Broadway Musical Digest, would it automatically provoke co-workers to “pants” me at the next staff meeting?
As the scary Sharon Angle told Harry Reid in the Nevada debate, maybe I need to “man up” a bit, but I wonder if it is possible at this point in my life.
When I find myself in a room full of men I have to hope they are talking Twins or Vikings.
Beyond that, I try to keep my mouth shut. I would hate to blurt out a question like…say…“what is a panfish?”
After watching Sunday night’s Vikings/Packers game, I can’t guarantee how long I’ll watch football either.
I know a lot more about “Project Runway” than I do “American Chopper.” I would rather watch “Ellen” than “NASCAR This Week.”
I brake for squirrels and I have two tools…a hammer and a screwdriver. I’m not that good with either one.
Now, we are closing in on the holidays. I might shop on Black Friday, and I can’t wait until The Hallmark Channel starts running their Christmas movies.
Ladies, you are invited over the first time they run “A House Without a Christmas Tree.” I’ll whip up a batch of crème brulee.
If there are any doubts about my actual gender, I do have a few guy-like tendencies. I don’t think I have ever cleaned the bathroom since we moved into our house. I can kind of grow a beard.
I like boobs!
Now if I can stay out of any conversations involving panfish at work…
*****
Thanks to everyone for the support over the past couple of weeks after we lost our furry friend, Joe. It is obvious I’m not the only one who gets overly attached to their pets. The scratch on my arm from his final day with us is nearly faded, but still reminds me of him every day. His ghost seems to walk the rooms of our house, at least in my mind. I miss him immensely. I’m glad that periodically I got to share some of his life with some of you.
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It takes a real man to whistle Broadway tunes while cleaning his panfish !
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