Skip to main content

Bring on the ladylove

Why having a girlfriend makes sense:
  • The toilet seat would always be down. Where it belongs.
  • A girlfriend would never ask why the hell you 'needed' to buy yet another pair of shoes. All women understand that expanding the shoe wardrobe has nothing to do with 'need' and everything to do with desire.
  • You'd be more likely to fit into a girlfriend's jeans, thus doubling your outfit choices in one fell stroke.
  • Strange emotional outbursts would be immediately understood as being the product of rogue hormones rather than down to certifiable insanity requiring a straightjacket and immediate divorce. Women would also know that this kind of outburst is easily cured by chocolate and/or ice-cream, preferably accompanied by sympathetic noises and a cuddle.
  • Being a bit lazy about leg hair removal would be unlikely to provoke insults as to sexual orientation and/or your partner insisting on calling you 'Trevor'. Other women understand that sometimes a grooming holiday is good for both the soul and the bank balance (unless they're Mamafia mamas, of course, but who in their right mind would choose one of those hos as their lady companion?)
  • Experiencing weekends without the 24/7 noise pollution of televised rugby/ footie/ cricket permeating every corner of the house, accessorised by a big hairy lump slumped on the sofa slurping beer and scratching his balls.
  • Not being soley responsible for the purchase and wrapping of gifts for your in-laws.
  • Shopping for a new sofa without your loved one yawning, looking moody and trying to sneak off to drool over power tools/ trainers/ stereo equipment.
  • Nail clippings left in the beauty salon rather than on the bathroom floor.
  • Plentiful gossip, as opposed to the male habit of denying they know anything to do with anything... despite just having got home from a night out with their mates or have just put the phone down following an hour long conversation with their mother.
Oh sigh.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Sisters, we're doing it for ourselves. We understand the lurve!
marianna said…
Aahh.
So I'm not the only one with those thoughts.
mimi
I agree! Sisters and girlfriends rule! My dad is sadly outnumbered at home. He doesn't understand why we need three kinds of shampoos, 5 body wash and shower gels, etc..

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…

Champix

Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …