Okay, before I get to my excitement about the Menaissance, just a few things.
It’s 81 degrees outside, and I just went for an hour long run. As I bent down to tie my shoe, I found myself staring face to face with a four-leaf clover. Now, I’m not really superstitious, but by golly, running along the Allegheny River and smelling the purple wildflowers and watching the heat come off the water… I had a good feeling. Yesterday, I got a free belly button ring (score) and then Mike and I went to the Grove City outlets because my running shoes were falling apart. The outlets are nestled among a bunch of farms. Quite literally, there is a big red barn and a combine across the main highway. It smells of cow manure and air conditioning, English food from the Elephant & Castle, and new shoes.
To make a long story short, I lucked out and got $110.o0 shoes for $52.40. And these are the amazing shoes I was tying on the trail when I found the clover. I’ve been feeling pretty lucky. I’m getting the housework done daily, and getting Mike’s lunch around before he gets home. I’ve been vacuuming with a glass of water trying to see if I should risk the carpet to red wine or a margarita. It’s not that hard. Maybe I need the added elements of heals and a petticoat. I’m so not opposed to this.
Today, I get to sew a button onto Mike’s shorts that fell off. Life as a housegirlfriend is good.
And because of the little clover, which is now stuck between a piece of glass and a picture of a friend from home in a frame, I felt that maybe I ought to apply to some jobs today. Maybe today’s the day when someone will call back.
To be honest, I get a little bored here during the day. I could get a puppy, but I think getting a job is probably better, seeing as the loans I used for grad school are no longer providing a six-month grace period and I’ve got to pay. Now.
And now… The Menaissance
^I figured out the link thing.
So this is a good way for me to talk about gender stereotypes, but also about the Menaissance.
Click the link and read it first. This is important.
Men are becoming manly men again. And this is a good thing. A very good thing. It was getting to a point out there where I could see the genders seriously becoming the same thing. I’m not saying a man can’t get a pedicure or a facial, or that he can’t be stylin’. I’m just saying MY men can’t do that. 😉
But really, there has been immense pressure on people to look a certain way. It’s not fair that it happens to women, but for men to feel this? When did men become so farking sensitive? So I think it’s important that the Menaissance is rising again.
Let me tell you where I’m coming from. I do think there are certain things men and women should do. Women should cook, but I’ll tell you that I’m a horrible cook, and most of the time, Mike hands me a spoon and lets me stir the boiling noodles while he makes an amazing shrimp pasta sauce. I’m content living out of the microwave. I cannot make a pot roast, and I am slowly trying to get over my fear of touching raw chicken. The yellow globules of fat just make my stomach turn.
But I’m good at breakfast. And damn good at vegetables. It’s evident, though. Mike’s the cook in this pseudo-family.
And while Mike is the spackler and actually knows what he’s doing, he has no problem leaving me a sanding pad and telling me to do it while he’s at work. He told me that the floors could be vacuumed last night…and that I could scrub down the walls…and sweep the front steps…and so on. He has faith that I can do it all, so I have no problem telling him to make me shrimp pasta then fix the TV in the front room.
So I guess what I’m saying is that household duties (both domestic and mechanical) can fall to either person. I truly don’t care who does what, but I think each party should be ABLE to do things.
But here’s the thing. Men care what they do…when they do it…how they do it. I don’t. I’m not going to change my own oil, even though I’m interested to know how it works. I get it. Drain it into a pan, change the filter, plug it back up, fill it up with new oil. Seems simple enough, but I’m going to let someone who knows HIS way around a car do it for me. Not to say that I wouldn’t let a woman mechanic do it. I just don’t want to do it myself.
Mike, on the other hand, cares like hell if it isn’t done right. Same with my daddy. Same with most of the other men I’ve dated. They want to know it’s done correctly. And while Mike and I were driving to his parents’ house the other day, he said this, “There’s something about knowing that you can do something. You don’t have to, but knowing that you could if you ever needed to is important. And you tend to trust your own work more than you trust anyone else’s. That way you can’t lay blame because it’s your fault.” I like it. A lot.
So maybe it’s about responsibility. I’d never let anyone else sew my quilt unless they were a professional. I’m not going to let anyone else write my words. I make my salad a certain way; so I tend not to trust others to do it for me. Hell, I don’t even like eating out most of the time because I like to be there to watch what’s being put into my food. Mike will tell you. I am constantly over his shoulder. But I don’t think this is a problem. At all.
Maybe it’s about what each individual is attracted to, expectations from their partner. I can’t date a guy that can’t fix stuff, but I can certainly hang out with them, swill a few beers, play some boardgames, and so forth. My hormones just don’t roll for these people.
But other women swoon at Ryan Seacrest…or Edward Cullen. Just sayin’. 😉
So if you’re up to joining the Menaissance, men, here’s a guide to manliness. Compliments of Corey, a former student.
So there you have it. Back to vacuuming, and scrubbing. Sorry for the delay on this one.