I'm sitting in bed blogging with an hour to spare before this day is done and all I'm concerned about is that when my hair falls over my shoulder there is about 5?centimeters?missing. I don't have time to be obsessed and distracted, yet I am. I know it's hard for men to understand, but women's worlds can fall apart when their hair is cut that inch too short.
Who says length isn't everything?
My day started with helping my mom out and being a model to test a hairdresser for an interview. I do it often and a lot of the time the work is mediocre. I've had a lot of experiences, but I've never had such a perfectionist. Her work was brilliant but in her perfection she took 3 hours. I'm not pointing out that I'm a typical female, but I can imagine Greggie checking the clock and wondering what the hell chicks do with their hair that I'm past three hours late for work.
Years ago I allowed a hairdresser to have free rein over my hair and he chopped it off. Need I say more. Now I fear hairdressers more than the dentist and when the candidate suggested that it was time for a cut I refused. She did point out that it looked as though my hair hadn't been cut in a good couple of weeks and I pointed out that it's more like 8 months. Yes ... I cut my hair twice a year. It's allowed ... I don't blow wave it or brush it when it's wet so I'm entitled to be obsessed with my length and petrified of people with scissors.
Now I remember why. As brilliant as she was I swear she cut off 5 centimeters. That's enough for an A typical female to be totally obsessed and distracted with shock and horror for the rest of the day.
Luckily I knew that a lot of what was left of my working day would be filled with social networking and that just thrills me. In my A typical space I helped Greggie proof a document for a proposal and got upset when he didn't appreciate the sentence I had altered. Why ask my opinion when you are going to disagree with it? I even had a little mumble under my breath moment and told him that I wasn't proofing anymore. To which he responded by ignoring me and doing the typical male thing ... oh wait I said it ... he ignored me.
My heart was set on one of those healthy ready made meals from woolies, but when we go there they were all sold out. Well now that just pisses me off. I had my heart set and now I didn't want anything. What is it about the other options? Why does pasta seem to be general ingredient of every 'easy meal'. Haven't the researchers discovered that A typical females don't like to stuff their faces with mayo filled pasta. So I left the shop with nothing and Greggie left with a beef sausage pastry.
A typical females make up their minds and then change them just because they can.
I decided that Text Guy has forgotten about me while he was in a relationship and I knew that when it was over he would knock on my door. I swore to ignore him. Well that lasted all of about half an hour and now I have my texting friend back.
I swore not to check the profiles of Mr Wow, The Jock or Mr Big and must pride myself in having stuck to that for all of about 2 weeks. Damn that curiosity gene that floats around the aura of a female. I checked all of them! A typical response ... more curiosity and doing a whole lot of convincing that I won't be doing that again.
I might be assuming that a lot of this is common in most women, but maybe it's just me. Maybe only I have too much irrelevant stuff on my plate to get my sim card of my phone fixed. Maybe I'm the only chick with 2 cellphones because the one number was funky cool and the other network didn't support Blackberry.
Then it arrives ... the email from Mr Big saying that if I don't respond to this he knows I'm not talking to him. I respond back that my cell is broken and send him my other number. Female moment ... I sent him the wrong number and need to email him again to send the right one.
The whole time I know he's going to call and I remind myself that the last time we were together I said it would be the last time. Well it was actually the last time that we spoke that I decided I was done. Why? Because he said something that was insensitive. Do I remember what it was? Of course not.
Phone rings ... A typical female swears to be cool ... he says 'hi' and that pathetic girlie voice emerges.
It's amazing, we have such a beautiful bond and he points out just how A typical I am and all the dumb reasons why I created all the dumb rules.
I try to protect myself from my?fictitious issues and tell him that he has to call me back to make a date to see me. Yes, I get just how pathetic girls can be.
None the less, Mr Big is back for like the 10th time ... the irony is that he thinks he never left!
When I told Greggie about the call, he laughed ... not with but at me. He then smiled and I knew exactly what he was thinking ... woman!!!
So I've been late for work twice this week and remind Greggie that he'll see me around lunch time tomorrow. Why? Because women have to do breakfast, of course.
Wednesday I had my eyes tattooed. They are still stinging a touch but looking gorgeous.
Thursday I had my hair done. It's a smashing blonde and I'm not too hysterical that it's at least 5 centimeters shorter.
Tomorrow is breakfast with the girls. I'm proud to say that we've been friends for 30 years now ... and yes, we still have stuff to say to each other.
As the A typical female does, I prepared a perfect dinner for Greggie and My Knight. The timing of everything was perfect and I had it all planned to be served piping hot and cooked to perfection.
Until ... Greggie doesn't want his cheese sauce just poured over his cauliflower. He wants his cheese sauce poured over his cauliflower with cheese grated on top and grilled in the over. He doesn't say that when we buy the ingredients. He doesn't say that when he sees me?preparing?dinner. ?He says that when the rice is cooked to perfection and the fillet is already sliced.
A typical female seethes through grated teeth and has only one thing to say to my precious friend for whom I would do anything (except make the cauliflower, of course!) ... 'A typical MALE!'