I was cleaning out my Junk mail folder tonight (because I’d let it pile up this last week or so) and to make it easier to browse (in case something gets misclassified) I sort all emails by subject. This makes it really easy to see what’s definitely spam because it’s repeated a few dozen times or some such. There were some that caught my eye, though, and I thought I’d share:

Become a CSI: [Scraps]
Hmm… well, I do like /watching/ CSI and it might actually be a very fun job from a cerebral point of view, but I’m not so much on the dead bodies and gross stuff, so thank you but I’ll pass.

Become a teacher, [Scraps]
Again, intriguing. I actually thought at one point in time (back in high school) that teaching college would be fun (oh hell no, don’t put me in front of a room of surly teens, someone would surely go crazy, probably me). But still, I kinda like my current job so I’m good, but thanks.

Become the man you’ve always wanted to be.
Uh, no.

Look, I’ll admit, being a girl is not always the easiest thing in the world some days (like today having to go for that lovely speculum appointment), but there is no way in the world I would /ever/ want to be a man. Seriously. No penis envy here. No desire to be able to write my name in the snow (or sand, or whatever), etc. Not happening.

I don’t envy men, not really. I mean, sure, the business world caters to them by rote (but things are changing) and even the dunderheads have instant credibility (this needs to change faster) but why? Because of a Y-chromosome and exposed genetalia? I appreciate being able to be both feminine and competent in the same instant, and the element of surprise when I do something I’m otherwise ill-equipped or not suited for (in some man’s eyes) is delightful. And let’s not forget the shoe choices!

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate men. Not all of them. A great many human beings fill me unease and distaste–not just men. But those I consider friends are more important to me than all my three-dozen pairs of shoes combined! I’ve loved many in the past and hope to have the chance to love more in the future, some of them I even respected… and that’s becoming more and more important to me as the years go by.

Oh, listen to me, being all psuedo-profound. Phfft! Not that the above isn’t true, but there are other things I like about men. Like when I impress them. Because we live in (still) such a patriarchial society, gaining the respect and admiration of men for anything I do is incredibly flattering. I like how, sometimes, I feel protected around certain ones. Others allow me to do a little bit of nurturing (though I’m no one’s mother, least of all a grown man’s!) without feeling clung-to. Some come to me for advice (that’s a biggie) and some just find me amusing. We all play our parts with each other, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.