I turned the TV on to ESPN last night so I could fall asleep.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve used ESPN for its snooze powers. It’s the only reason why I know it’s on channel 7.
I discovered ESPN’s zzzz effect while visiting a friend’s house, and quickly fell asleep on the couch listening the announcers go on and on about things I didn’t understand or care about.
I wouldn’t have fallen asleep, for example, if Project Runway was on. Or Jersey Shore. GTL people!!
I don’t care to follow sports unless it’s the Saints or LSU football. Or women’s gymnastics.
As I laid in bed waiting for all the NCAA talk (zzzzzzzz) to wash over me, I realized how girly it is for me to find ESPN so boring that it induces sleep.
I mean, I don’t consider myself that girly really. I hardly ever wear makeup, purses and handbags don’t excite me and I have no problem drinking canned PBR.
I’m on a flag football team, I use the microwave more than the oven to cook, and I’m really good at driving stick shift. (insert voice of Tim Allen: ho ho ho!!!)
I played lots of sports growing up, and my mother, a feminist, would scoff at the idea of me and my twin sister, Joy, being cheerleaders.
“You want people cheering for YOU!” she would say, as she signed us up for cabbage ball, softball and gymnastics.
We would joke and say we were going to be servers at Hooters just to see her reaction.
The independent woman-mentality has carried over into adulthood. I enjoy, yet still get slightly uncomfortable, when the MAN pays on a date.
“You don’t want to have to owe him anything,” my mother warned us.
Right mom!! I pay my own tab! I carry my own bags! I have a large assortment of T-shirts! I’m AWESOME!
Yet, in the midst of my woman empowerment, I began to think of all the things that actually are really girly about me.
I can’t build anything, for one. Especially IKEA wood furniture. Have you ever had to follow IKEA directions? They're in pictures. Pictures! You have to figure out which screw and nail and piece of wood corresponds with which picture and number, and I always get it wrong.
The latest thing I’ve tried to build was a TV stand (not IKEA) and I ended up with a half a bag of screws left over.
“How nice that they give you extras!” I told Joy.
“I don’t think there are supposed to be any extra,” she said, as we both re-read the directions and took another sip of wine.
Other girly confessions? I’m not as natural a blonde as I appear, I enjoy pedicures and shopping for clothes and I don’t hate the TV show Wife Swap.
I take online quizzes entitled “What kind of garden are you?” and “What’s your love style?,” and I hate bacon! What boy hates bacon??
I’m petrified of roaches, (like…petrified), my bathroom has more bottles of products than days of the week and sometimes I tear up at sappy commercials. Joy and I have also always gotten a boyfriend to mow our lawn for us.
But, wait! I don’t use fabric softener! I dress like a boy at the gym! (No matching cutesy outfits here!!) and I hate the color pink!
Plants die under my care! I own a pair of cleats! I burp out loud! (Ho! Ho! Ho!)
Yea, I’m beyond tough! I reassured myself as I started to doze off to the TV. Practically a boy!
But, wait… what exactly does NCAA stand for?