Warning: This post will contain vast generalisations about the female sex. If you don't care to read such broad, sweeping statements, piss off.
The older I get, the more I dislike women. I know I'm being very disloyal, but damn, women are hard work. Growing up I was never the sort to have many friends, choosing to associate exclusively with a group of three or four female friends. I had a lot of female acquaintances, but our relationships never extended beyond pleasantries. The friends I was close to in junior high and high school remain my main "real life" friends to this day.
Since high school, I don't think I have made a "real life" female friend. Sure, I have lovely little internet friends who are women, but throughout college and jobs I've had since graduating high school, I have not struck up a friendship with a woman. I have made friends in that time, all males, gay and straight. The Dude is not too happy with the hetero side of this, as he mistrusts my male friends, believing that all they want to do is get up on it. As it happens, this may be the case with two of them, but c'mon ladies, who wouldn't? Uh huh. You know it. Err..anyway, these male friends know that I am (usually) happily married, so the parameters of our relationships are set. No big deal.
When I moved to the UK, I figured I would attempt to make female friends somehow. Women to go to dinner with, go out for coffee, have lengthy talks about books, celebrity gossip, movies, badgers, etc. Essentially, the sort of relationship I had with my small number of other real world friends. However, this is not to be.
I have found myself involved in a friendship by accident, one which by the time I realised I was considered a good friend, it was too late to escape. This has made me realise the very reason I do not befriend women -- they are far too needy. It is drama and histrionics all the time, and I do not have time for this. I have enough going on in my own life without having to shoulder the burdens of other peoples' lives, especially when I deem their problems far less significant than my own. I don't have the emotional resources to pretend that I care about issues the people should really not be freaking out over.
For instance, said friend has panic attacks over being in a room without clear access to a bathroom. Fine. Is there really a need to weep and wail over this though? Is it necessary to tell everyone how very serious this issue is and demand they not laugh at your perceived grevious misfortune? Must there be hand-wringing and whining? I do what any good friend would do in this situation -- I shrug and walk away. I am a bitch, aren't I? Men. No drama. Not from the straight ones anyway.
I'm not saying women can't have problems and vent them. Why else would all of us blog? I just think there is a way of going about it which is not so bloody melodramatic. As I've mentioned before, I've dealt with depression and this little thing called infertility, but the only place I talk about it is on my blog. In real life, there isn't much of a place for it. I think the more people go on about things and complain about them, the more trivial their problems appear to others. I don't want that to happen to me, so I pretend it doesn't exist. This may explain the rage, anger, and bitterness that is rife in the blog. Hmm...
Thank fuck for the blogging world is all I can say. Where are you ladies in my real life?? I'll take your drama, at least you all do it right.