10 Things that Blow About Being a Girl

I’m a girl. I like it most days. I’m definitely not a “2 of 10 would not recommend” type. There are a few things, however, that make being a girl decidedly less appealing. For example:

1). Hair. (I’m starting with head hair to lure you all into a false sense of security) I, like many girls, have long hair. It’s long for many reasons, chief of which being that it is incredibly thick and crazy, meaning that any attempt to cut it shorter than my armpits would release the Kraken from its gravitational constraints entirely and allow it to transform into the Optimus Prime of all fros. It would be like having a mousy brown cloud on top of my head. Birds would nest in it. At any rate, the texture of my hair also means that I can’t blow dry or brush it. Ever. Anything that fluffs or separates strands is my Kryptonite. Therefore, if I want to shower, I either have to do it at night, before I go to bed, and then sleep on a pile of sopping wet pillows, or face the prospect of going out during the day with a soaking wet bullwhip attached to my head, waiting to thrash and spray innocent passersby whilst dripping all over my shirt front so that I look like I drool. Boys do not have to deal with this problem.

2). Hair. I just shaved my legs. It took me ten ish minutes. I also did this yesterday, and the day before (haha, who am I kidding, I haven’t shaved since I got home from college, but if I wanted to be a functioning member of society, I would be shaving every day or every other). If I dedicated ten minutes a day to shaving for the rest of my life (or at least until I’m 50, stop caring about that kind of stuff and just muumuus all the time), that would total 109,500 minutes, not including the amount of my life I’ve already wasted doing the dumb task. 109,500 minutes is 1,825 hours. 1,825 hours is 76 days. I’m going to spend 76 days of my life shaving my legs. Boys don’t shave their legs. They do shave their faces, but at least when they don’t do that, they look scruffy and cute rather than just hirsut and prickly.

3). Another hair-related complaint. It hurts to kiss boys with scruff. It does. It chafes your face.

4). Food expectations. When girls eat salads, or order small menu items, or say they aren’t hungry, people assume that they’re trying to lose weight, and for some reason, that really irks me. Maybe it shouldn’t. But if I’m ordering a salad, it’s because that’s what I want (or because it’s the cheapest thing on the menu, and I know you’re going to pay, and I’m being polite). I’m not on a diet, I’m not trying to lose five pounds, I’m just eating a salad. In fact, throw some damn ice cream on there.

Speaking of which…

5). Paying for things. I just spent 5 days in Connecticut with my boyfriend and his family, and he  insisted on paying for everything. In fact, he considers it a point of pride that he’s “never let a girl buy him a meal, ever.” Now, hold up one minute. I’m not even going to go at this from a feminist point of view, but dear god what is wrong with this boy? When I offer to pay, it’s not just a polite gesture. I actually want slash am prepared to pay. I like to feel like things are equal, and I like to do special things for other people sometimes, like pay for their damn dinners. By not letting me do that, he not only makes me feel guilty and freeloading, but also denies me of the pleasure of giving him something.

6). On a lighter note, flannels. Every men’s flannel, it seems, is hand crafted from the supple cloth of the gods themselves. They’re soft and warm and nice. Without fail. Women’s flannels, however, when you can find them, half the time have high/low backs, tie fronts so that you can look like cowgirl-hooker Barbie, or are made of chiffon/tulle/something other than flannel. The other half the time, they cost half a million dollars. In summary, men’s flannels: cheap, soft, perfect. Women’s flannels: tacky, weird, uglily colored, expensive. Since I live in flannels (often men’s ones), this causes a problem for me.

7). Fashion. ALL BOYS CLOTHES LOOK BASICALLY THE SAME. Unless he’s wearing basketball shorts and a wife beater tank top, it’s tough to tell how much style a boy has. Yes, I know, there are lots of things that can go wrong. Socks and flip flops. Flip flops at all. Low hanging pants. But what I’m saying is that it’s tough to tell a boy with medium style from a boy with great style. Clothes from J. Crew look a lot like (some) clothes from Kohl’s. As a girl, I know that it’s possible to dress well without buying a lot of expensive stuff, etc. But my point is that women’s fashion is so much trickier than men’s fashion. Plus, boys don’t have to wear heels. They don’t need to have eight pairs of dress shoes. They need one pair. One. Comfortable. Pair.

8). Childbirth. This one is obvious. The average watermelon weighs 3-5 pounds. The average child weighs around 8.

9). I’m not sure how to encapsulate this in a one or two word catchphrase, but how is it fair that the first thing that happens when a girl starts working out is that her boobs shrink? Muscle tone comes later, weight loss maybe, cardio conditioning a little, but the one thing that is a straight given is that her boobs will get smaller. Not fair.

10). Knee problems. Ye olde womanly hips distribute our weight differently than men’s, and this means that women have way more knee problems. Then, once you have knee problems, the male athletic trainer’s assistant needs to wrap you all the flipping time, and it becomes awkward. Not as awkward as when you have a groin injury, but that’s a story for another time.


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