Hurray for Roommates! (And other thoughts)

So I've been sitting here for half an hour waiting for my amazing roommate to get back from the writing center so she can loan me her laundry card. Because mine only has 25 cents on it. The clothes and detergent are all loaded... I just need fifty more cents or so. Luckily my roommate is a kind, generous and trusting soul who is able to put up with my many crises. Otherwise life would be much more difficult. Like right now for instance. I would be standing in the laundry room, debating whether to ask for the generosity of a complete stranger while hoping that my clothes weren't being defiled by laundry detergent. Laundry detergent isn't really of much use to anybody without water. That's an awkward situation I'd much rather avoid as doing laundry is, in and of itself, awkward enough. Imagine: you're about to wash your undergarments when a guy walks in and decides to use the machine next to you. You're standing there with a pile of embarrassing clothes items. What do you do? Hide? Stuff them all into the machine as quickly as possible? Avoid eye contact? A combination of all three?

Or perhaps A) you need to use a dryer which is full of some guy's boxer shorts... or B) you walk in and some guy is unloading a dryer full of the equivalent of YOUR boxer shorts...!!! or even worse C) you and said guy know each other! All are situations I have for the most part been able to avoid, to my knowledge. But the very thought of them strikes terror into my very soul. I mean, simply another girl examining my unmentionables is bad enough... I STRONGLY DISLIKE LAUNDROMATS AND ALL FORMS OF COMMUNITY LAUNDRY ACTIVITY! In fact the only time I prefer people to observe my clothing is when I'M WEARING IT and this DEFINITELY EXCLUDES UNMENTIONABLES! This would explain why I hate shopping. I can just see myself waiting in line to buy a shirt while the two girls behind me whisper to each other about how hideous it is. Am I paranoid? Yes.

My other fear is that, either I will see someone or vice versa and recognize the clothes they are wearing from when I had to remove their laundry from the dryer. I suppose this shouldn't bother me, but it does. Just think "oh, there's Heidi, wait... I recognize that t-shirt. I've had to pull it out of the dryer like fifty times... She must not own many clothes..." Which is true. My first year of college my closet made it look like I was an ascetic. Some of my clothing this year still has tags on it because I haven't worn it yet.

My lack of clothing and shoes and such is simply proof that somewhere along the line I missed a few crucial lessons in the femininity department. Either that or I refused to attend. Probably the latter. Take make-up for example. Even stage make-up scares me, and I have far more experience with that than with the normal kind. I was out looking for foundation while shopping with my mom and sister and I asked mom how to choose the right tone/shade/whatever. Her response? "I don't know." I love my mother, but sometimes it's no wonder I'm at a loss as far as womanly guidance is concerned. So I try my best and hope I don't embarrass myself too thoroughly although if I do I'm used to it and try to laugh at myself.

I don't think boys truly appreciate the pressures of being female. They assume that fashion sense, color coordination, and the ability to smell nice all come naturally. Like when you're twelve you have an epiphany and think "Aha! Red and purple are not complimentary!" Or in my case, you paint the rocket you made in science class red and purple and your gay friend tells you that they clash. My career as an artist died that day. I still carry the scars.

Yes, I was never cut out to be a girly-girl. You know, the kind that giggle politely instead of laughing obnoxiously, walk gracefully in heels, know how to braid their hair in five different patterns, and actually like the color pink. But does the fact that I don't know what color is currently in style or whether or the fact that I look like a deranged mime whenever I try to apply lipstick necessarily make me unfeminine? Okay, maybe some people would say yes, I'm a freak. And I'd agree. But I'd like to argue that femininity means more than pink and Maybelline just like masculinity is more than football and barbecuing. And I think our culture is seriously confused about exactly what it means to be masculine or feminine. It's like these new "outreach" programs for men. Apparently "men hate going to church." And to remedy this what are we doing? We're adding men's get-togethers that include football and barbecuing. Nothing against all that, but I'm thinking if guys are finding something lacking in the church, football isn't exactly going to fix the problem. There's probably something a little deeper going on there.

So stay tuned as we explore these exciting topics, because the popular cultural definitions of what is masculine and what is feminine have been ticking me off every since I was 12. These superficial definitions are absolutely ridiculous and mean absolutely nothing. Don't tell me what I have to look like, don't tell me what I have to act like, and stay away from my laundry.

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Now playing: Frank Sinatra - My Funny Valentine
via FoxyTunes