Top Ten Reasons Why Even People Who Know Me Think I’m A Man
It’s somewhat of a mystery to me as to why most people in the blog world assume I’m a man even though I’m not. Don’t worry if you are one of them; we’re still pals. Recently I made the mistake of mentioning this to my oldest son who replied, “Why are you surprised? Even people who know you think you’re a man.”
So because I’m some sort of masochist I asked my kids to elaborate. Here’s the conclusion they’ve drawn for why people who know me think I’m a man:
*** 10. I KNOW MY ENGINE’S FIRING ORDER.
I argued that there are plenty of female mechanics out there who know more about motors than I do but they stood their ground, insisting that the fact that I’m not a mechanic makes knowing this specific information about my car’s engine something only a man would “traditionally” know. I’m betting their insistence on using the word “traditionally” was to spare them a feminist slap upside the head.
*** 9. “SOLDIER UP” or “WALK IT OFF”
Apparently these are the only two statements I give anyone when they are faced with a “crisis” and make the mistake of whining to me about it. I’m careful not to use these phrases at moments when they are dealing with real emotional issues, I’m talking about the day-to-day nonsense that for some reason teen boys and young girls need to add unnecessary drama to. (God help you if you’re an adult coming to me with nonsense). I like to think of it as my own personal advice on “fight” or “flight.” Either way, make a choice already. I got shit to do.
*** 8. I REFER TO OTHER MEN AS “BUDDY, “PAL” OR “DUDE.”
My boys are right, but what I didn’t have the courage to tell them is that when I speak to a man this way, it’s to remind him that he is firmly planted in the “friend zone,” so there’s no chance of mixed signals. And to spare my boys therapy, I didn’t bother to elaborate.
*** 7. I TAUGHT MYSELF TO USE MY NON-DOMINANT HAND IN ORDER TO GAIN AN ADVANTAGE IN SPORTS.
Alright, this I one did. Although I’m not sure how this makes me a man, and my argument about being/coaching cheerleading didn’t sway their opinion in the least.
Now technically I’m left-handed, but there ARE certain situations in the sports world where using one hand instead of the other gains you an advantage. For instance:
BATTING – I switch hit. I prefer to bat right-handed, as my dominant left arm has more power on the pull through, but on occasion I do switch hit. It’s a technique Mickey Mantle perfected. Now I know what you’re thinking, “But wait…wasn’t Mickey Mantle a YANKEE?” Yes, he was. But even I can’t deny the fact that the man could swing.
PITCHING – Left. Most pitchers are right-handed, so most batters are used to having a pitch come at them from the right. ADVANTAGE!
BASKETBALL – Dribble left, shoot right. I actually make a point of switching from hand to hand before I shoot to disorient defense. If you want to see a master of this technique, type the name STEVE NASH anywhere. I’m NOWHERE near as good as him, though.
BOWLING – Left. Ten pin lanes have a thin coating of oil layered over the lane, so unless the guy who bowled before you was “Earl Anthony good” your ball is going to naturally follow the path his ball made in the oil. For all you know that dude could have been a total spaz. Left-handers have the advantage of sending their ball down a less traveled path.
FOOTBALL – Left. I’m too small to play but I throw a mean spiral.
TENNIS – Left. It’s just easier for me. Not really sure if there’s an advantage in it.
GOLF – Right. Left-handed clubs are just too damn expensive.
TRACK – I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.
*** 6. I’M COMPETITIVE.
Let me explain. I’m very competitive. Insanely competitive. I’m so off the wall competitive it’s almost embarrassing. I ALWAYS have to win. Even if I lose I will find some shred of success within the loss to hang my hat on. Again, not sure what makes this a man trait, but my boys were pretty emphatic on this one.
*** 5. I DON’T CRY. EVER.
Not really sure what to say about this other than I just don’t cry. I also think my sons have been spending too much time with teenage girls, most of whom will cry at the drop of a hat. I’m thinking it skews their judgment.
What can I say? Chuck gets me.
*** 3. I WIN EVERY KNIFE THROWING CONTEST I ENTER.
Wait, wait, before you click away in fear let me explain. It’s not like I wander the countryside with a sling full of knives, randomly entering contests. New England in the fall is a wonderland of town fairs, and every one of them has some sort of knife throwing contest. I’m not sure why or how I can do this, but I’m awesome at it. I think the fact that so far only men have entered the contests I’ve won leads my boys to believe this is something only men do. If there’s a woman out there who can throw knives, please let me know. I’d love to prove my boys wrong.
*** 2. I’M FREAKISHLY GOOD AT ARM WRESTLING.
Don’t get me wrong, I can’t take down a grown man but I can give him a run for his money, despite the fact that I’m not terribly strong. I think because the length of my arm from shoulder to fingertips is only something like 28 inches long (71 cm for you fans of the metric system). I’m guessing it gives me some kind of advantage.
***** IF YOU ARE AT ALL SQUEAMISH I SUGGEST YOU CLICK AWAY NOW *****
The number one reason why people who know me think I’m a man is:
*** 1. I’VE GIVEN MYSELF MY OWN STITCHES.
I’m telling you people, stitches don’t hurt anywhere near as bad as you think they do. Even if you’ve already gotten them and you thought they hurt, I’ll bet it had more to do with being freaked out over the fact that you needed them at all. Seriously, burning yourself taking a pan out of the oven hurts more than giving yourself stitches. But you’re probably used to that particular pain sensation so you’ve grown accustomed to it. I, on the other hand, am a lousy cook but a very good Roller Derby Girl, so I’ve grown accustomed to the pain of giving myself stitches instead.
I’m not talking about stitching up a huge gash or anything, I’m talking five or six stitches at most. Since my ex is a Paramedic/Firefighter I have access to the actual equipment needed to stitch myself up, so it’s not like I run my arm under the sewing machine. All you need is a field medic’s needle and some medium weight fishing line (heavy duty’s too thick and the thin stuff tears). A bottle of cheap tequila doesn’t hurt either. Taking them out is even easier. It feels something like taking earrings out. I’m not suggesting that people go out and start giving themselves stitches, I’m just saying if I made a trip to the ER every time I needed them nothing else in my life would get done.
So there you have it: The top ten reasons why people who know me think I’m a man. And on that note I will leave you all with some “manly” parting advice:
Duct tape fixes EVERYTHING.