Call me naive, but I forgot the internet was open to anyone.
This became excruciatingly clear when I saw one of my posts get retweeted by someone. Not just anyone either.
By a man.
The next day I realized that one of the people who had left a comment on my post…was also a man. Who then retweeted the post. And put me into a Friday Follow list on Twitter the next day.
I was, to say the least, stunned. Men think I have something interesting to say? There are two men out there who have read at least one of my posts each?
When I told my family and friends I started a blog, almost without exception, I excluded the men. I see now that this is biased and sexist on my part. I just couldn’t imagine they’d care what I had to say.
Now, I hold doors open for men. If they smoke, I light their cigarettes. I do not need to be pampered because I’m a woman and I don’t expect them to act like I’m some helpless waif.
It seems I also don’t expect them to listen to me.
Apparently, part of me lives in the 50’s. Even though no part of me actually was alive during the 50’s.
As I explained to my husband, I realized I thought that all men were sitting around secretly praying for the women in their lives to shut up. I talk. A lot. And my husband listens to every word I say. He listens to words I don’t even realize I’ve said. I’m not joking, there are times my husband will tell me something about myself and I will stare, dumbfounded, trying to figure out when I told him that.
My father has been nothing but nurturing to my sister and I. Even when we got piercings and tattoos. So where did I get this idea?
Perhaps it’s the way I see some men’s eyes glaze over when I begin to divulge my deep, unending love for dresses. Or the way some of David’s friends talk about their wives and girlfriends. Or the fact that it is like jamming a gigantic square peg into a tiny round hole to get almost any male I know to talk on the phone for longer than three minutes.
The thing is: I have male friends whom I know read the blog religiously. Well, at least one. So, why am I still stunned that other men have read my blog? I don’t have an answer.
So, men out there, I ask you: what are you listening to me prattle on about?
Or for that matter, all of you out there: what the hell are you reading this for? Because this is largely just my yammering about weird and annoying things that happen to me. I talk about poop a lot too. Is there just a large market out there for weird poop stories?
I’m not entirely sure why you’re all reading this right now but I’m especially unsure of the males. Right now if I could see you, I’d be eyeing you suspiciously. Which makes me a huge hypocrite. Again, I’m not sure where that comes from.
But I promise, in exchange for my sexism, I will make you a pie. It only seems fair.