Cherry pop

The trio today hosted an exclusive party... for the women today. It was a sa-weet NO BOYS ALLOWED type of party. A Passion Party.

If you don't know what that is, let me just tell you there were a lot of toys in my apartment tonight, lots of girls, lots of giggles... lots of shocked faces, wandering eyes, and risque thoughts throughout the night. It was my first real gathering with more than 2 girls talking about the same undisclosing thing... did the same thing with about 8 guys sometime in October, I remember. We all had an "exchange of ideas" between the two females (Erin and I) and the guys. That was the talk right before we went to Captain Fun's downtown and I displayed my massive strength by performing acrobatics on dancer poles. (By the way, it is never surprising to me now how many males exist everywhere I live.. first the Corps of Cadets, then NAS Pensacola. Complete sausagefest, which makes it completely "ok" for us to risk losing our femininity, right? Sometimes I feel like I need to join a cheerleading team to be able to hang out with girly girls and stop acting like a guy... but enough of that rant. We military women do that one a lot anyways.) But I digress. For you girls who want discounts, host your own party. I'll hook you up with contacts, and you can get started. Then you all can talk amongst yourselves about what products work and don't work, and what you recommend for that annoying chick who keeps complaining she's not getting any.

Ok are you ready?

I don't complain enough out loud, so I thought I'd rant about one thing today and keep the rest to myself. Maybe write a nasty song about them. Or draw an angry sketch.

So I guess it ties with the art of existing in an odd girl-to-guy ratio... but living like that for a while makes you "one of the guys". You can talk with guys about unladylike things, hang out with them... all because it's normal now. By this point in your life you think that nothing a guy could do or say could make you feel uncomfortable, or it would be really hard to be offended by something a guy would say about the female sex or sex in general.

I am exactly that. Or well, I thought I was until a couple of dudes actually started talking about me... TO me. Now I guess it's different to engage in the conversation when you're not talking about other girls and boys, but when the boys are trying to put you on the spot and make you feel uncomfortable. I'm typically not a confrontational person, but when they start telling me, that in the metaphorical sense, I was the "trophy" in an Asian bowl months earlier. This reminded me of several movies I've seen before, with the girl as the prize of the bet like in She's All That with Rachael Lee Cook... I mean, you'd feel bad for her, but doesn't really make you feel something until it actually happens to you. Never have I ever thought I was the object of victory in some competition. When I heard this, I kept my cool--I didn't go drama queen on them, but I did feel like I sank to a level of objectification. And I'm sure you know this leads back to insecurity, self-esteem issues, and other things I can write about at this time (but choose not to).

Yeah... so, that's what got on my nerves this week. Trivial? Could be to you. But the little things can bug me and not surface until there's a pillow in my hand. Little things like... nail clippings and dust bunnies.



The Trophy Wife. Absolutely opposed to it.