...what you feel is what you are and what you are is beautiful...

This morning I completely forgot to take the trash cans to the curb. Expect tomorrow's entry to hold the details of my lynching at the hands of the other tenants in the building.

One woman is almost psychotic about it. She cornered Adam a few weeks ago and asked him if was ever going to help with the trash. He does, every week. Adam to Trash Lady; "You've got problems." Then he just walked away. My husband has such class. I would've probably been drawn into a argument with the woman. Good thing he was outside and not me.

January 5, 2000
I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright..."

Yesterday, I had a grand total of 14 doors opened for me, and two men let me ahead of them in line. I refused of course. Though I never refused an opened door, even if it is so the man in question can ogle my behind. I think it pleases men to be able to do these small things for women. When I didn't understand what feminists really were, but called myself one, I believed that any act of kindness on behalf of the man was an affront to my female sensibilites. How wrong I was.

Now, to me, being a feminist means being a strong woman. The operative word being woman. I revel in being girlie when I feel like being girlish. But that doesn't make me weak. I love being a feminine woman, and I hope that all woman get to feel that warm blanket of estrogen around themselves at one time or another in their lives. Also, being strong feminine woman allows the men around me to be men. To open doors and be protective. In small or grand scales.

I believe that we shouldn't stray to far from our biological imperatives, gender wise. That doesn't mean that I'll try to talk anyone out of any behavior and their interpretation of being a woman. What works for me may not work for everybody. It took me a few years to discover what category of a woman I was.

I like it when men open doors for me. I like it even more when my husband does the same.

I love to hear "Don't worry your pretty little head about it." Although, I always do, and it's normally my solutions to the problems that are implemented. However, it's the thought behind it that counts. Every woman wants to feel protected and warm, whether or not they'll still want that 10 minutes later...you're on your own. Men can't win when it comes to this arena. Unless of course you're in a relationship intense enough to read a person and tell what it is they need at that moment. This is rare, very rare. So, women... tell your mate that you're feeling "nesty" and want that warm feeling. Or tell them to crawl to you on all fours and lick your boot, followed by him cooking you dinner in the buff. I choose two extreme examples to make a point.

You have to find these moments for yourselves. And TALK, for christsake.

Women, are now allowed to do EVERYTHING their mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers wanted to do themselves. But in doing so much I feel like we've lost that wondrous part of part of ourselves that is soft and fair. And I bet, if scientists found it and could fit it under a microscope, that it would be Barbie colored pink.

I decided to day that I love my hair color. It took three days for me to settle that. You know what they say..."Red on the head, fire in the...."

So what do you think of the new hair color? If you missed yesterday's entry, you haven't seen it yet.

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