Though I am sure that's true for a significant number, I doubt the rest of us would willingly trade in trade our shirt and pants for a skirt and blouse anytime soon. Although I do occasionally gaze in envy over the flashy accesories and the neverending range of couture that women are fortunate enough to possess, I have never actually yearned to slink around in their towering Manolos.
Sure, Linda Low might enjoy being a girl but I enjoy being a boy...
Hell, I'd develop bloody blisters in days. Kudos to my stiletto sisters but even boots with too high an instep ( and you know how much I lurve leather boots ) already give me a touch of acrophobia.
Though I've mentioned that living up to the impossible ideals of the new age man these days isn't that easy after all, the reverse is true as well and I don't envy the ladies at all - especially when it comes to finding that perfect mate. Looking like Ugly Betty certainly doesn't help a lady's chances in the marriage market but being blessed with excessive beauty and brains doesn't seem to help either. In fact from what I've noticed about the ladies of my acquiantance, it actually comes with its very own can of worms.
Look around and you'll see beautiful bright babes around my age still busy looking around for that elusive prince charming - no matter how much they might continually protest that they're actually enjoying their fabulous singletinihood. Sure I'll admit we all can live without a man but life's so much nicer with one around, don't you think? :) Still it puzzles me why they remain steadfastly single despite their obvious eligibility.
Naming no names here ( they shall all remain not-so-innocent ) but I know a gal my age whose practically a domestic goddess in the kitchen, a whore in the bedroom and a freaking genius in the boardroom. Sounds like the perfect Stepford Wife, right? Seriously, what else could a red-blooded heterosexual boy want? And yet, she keeps landing these impossible sounding duds that we've all started calling her the Freak Magnet.
I think I see the problem though. Not a crucial mystery since I think it's been solved many a time. Essentially men - even the seemingly tough, macho guys - are essentially fragile creatures of ego, so when beautiful brassy babes strut with bitchy, ball-busting strides that eat up the earth, these little men get easily intimidated.
The nice guys - not merely creatures of myth! they exist, really! - start cowering in their khakis and loafers, terrified that the slightest wrong move would get their heads chomped off by these seemingly ultra-confident Amazons. The strong, silent types remain strong and silent as is their wont leaving the hapless gals with the arrogant braggarts drunk in their own self-conceit and the seriously intoxicated buggers depending on that last shot of vodka to bolster their wavering confidence.
Not forgetting the small number of handsome, intelligent boys who turn out to be overwhelmingly - disappointingly - and disturbingly in love with one another. :)
Not exactly the best fishes to land after all. Doubt anyone has the solution to this conundrum though. Certainly wouldn't do for the ladies to present themselves in watered-down pastel versions of their true Samantha Jones selves so I guess we'll all have to wait for the boys to catch up with them in maturity.
Guess that might take a while though. :)