Men and Women AND the Purse Dilema

I have a dilemma: tonight is A Charleston Affair (kinda like the prom of college) and I don't have the right purse. It is not an issue of not having the right color or size; I simply do not have any clutch or other cocktail-appropriate purse.

So, what's a Southern Belle to do?

While I normally carry my "hockey bag" purse (see video below) which is simply too large for tonight's event, I figured I could hijack my date's pockets and have him carry my essentials (i.e. lip-gloss, ID, cell phone, etc.). But then I didn't want him to face his own dilemma (see the rest of the video below!).

Sorry for the poor quality; the content of the comedy makes up for it though!

But is he onto something? Having the guy just carry a purse?

More and more men are: according to this website, there has been a 21% increase in murses (male purses) sold in the last year.

Despite the increase, I think most would still agree that it looks odd when a man carries a purse today...

He even has a clutch like I need ;)

You may not believe it but men were actually the first ones to carry purses. According to Barbara G. H. Hagarty's book Handbags, men carried them first. Yes, I repeat:

murses preceded purses  

because men needed a bag to hold their coin money. This dates back to ancient times in Greece and Rome.

If only Charleston Affair could have come after the Center for Women's 10th Annual It's in the Bag Purse Auction on May 13th; no doubt, I could have found the perfect purse there.

But as for now, I'll have to hope my date will risk his own dilemma and carry my essentials for me :)

For your next night out, if you don't have a date or if yours won't accommodate your essentials by letting you hijack his pockets,  select your bag wisely because, as Ellen Rachlin said, (quoted in Hagarty's book):

A woman in her lifetime will spend far more hours hugging a handbag than a man. 

Ain't that the truth? ;) 

  

I Want a Wife (It's Not What You're Thinking!)

I know it has been a while since I've posted. 

And I have been busy. 

Really Busy. 

That is why I want a wife.

It is not what you're thinking: I am not turning lesbian. 

It is more like I'm turning logical: I want a wife because my to-do list remains perpetually incomplete. I scratch one thing off but somehow 2 or 3 new tasks have appeared along with the other things that remain undone.

One month remains of my college career!?! As I try to complete homework and reading and papers, I also have to find time to do laundry, buy groceries, vacuum my room, etc. etc. etc.. This on top of classes, an internship and work. Then, of course, there are the unexpected things like having to buy a new laptop, scheduling to get my wisdom teeth removed, ordering flowers for graduation, etc. etc. etc.. Oh and trying to have a social life.

That is why I want a wife. 

As I sit here in the library after midnight attempting to study for a test at 10 am and not be overwhelmed by my never-ending to-do list, I was reminded of an essay I once read called "Why I Want a Wife" by Judy Syfers. This site describes the original publication and delivery (celebrating the 50th anniversary of the 19th amendment). 

I have included the essay in its entirety below for all of y'all  - gay, straight, male, female, single or otherwise - who, like me, WANT A WIFE ;) 

I belong to that classification of people known as wives. I am A Wife. And, not altogether incidentally, I am a mother.

Not too long ago a male friend of mine appeared on the scene fresh from a recent divorce. He had one child, who is, of course, with his ex-wife. He is obviously looking for another wife. As I thought about him while I was ironing one evening, it suddenly occurred to me that I, too, would like to have a wife. Why do I want a wife?

I would like to go back to school so that I can become economically independent, support myself, and, if need be, support those dependent upon me. I want a wife who will work and send me to school. And while I am going to school I want a wife to keep track of the children's doctor and dentist appointments. And to keep track of mine, too. I want a wife to make sure my children eat properly and are kept clean. I want a wife who will wash the children's clothes and keep them mended. I want a wife who is a good nurturant attendant to my children, who arranges for their schooling, makes sure that they have an adequate social life with their peers, takes them to the park, the zoo, etc. I want a wife who takes care of the children when they are sick, a wife who arranges to be around when the children need special care, because, of course, I cannot miss classes at school. My wife must arrange to lose time at work and not lose the job. It may mean a small cut in my wife's income from time to time, but I guess I can tolerate that. Needless to say, my wife will arrange and pay for the care of the children while my wife is working.

I want a wife who will take care of *my* physical needs. I want a wife who will keep my house clean. A wife who will pick up after me. I want a wife who will keep my clothes clean, ironed, mended, replaced when need be, and who will see to it that my personal things are kept in their proper place so I can find what I need the minute I need it. I want a wife who cooks the meals, a wife who is a *good* cook. I want a wife who will plan the menus, do the necessary grocery shopping, prepare the meals, serve them pleasantly, and then do the cleaning up while I do my studying. I want a wife who will care for me when I am sick and sympathize with my pain and loss of time from school. I want a wife to go along when our family takes a vacation so that someone can continue to care for me and my children when I need a rest and change of scene.

I want a wife who will not bother me with rambling complaints about a wife's duties. But I want a wife who will listen to me when I feel the need to explain a rather difficult point I have come across in my course of studies. And I want a wife who will type my papers for me when I have written them.

I want a wife who will take care of the details of my social life. When my wife and I are invited out by my friends, I want a wife who will take care of the babysitting arrangements. When I meet people at school that I like and want to entertain, I want a wife who will have the house clean, will prepare a special meal, serve it to me and my friends, and not interrupt when I talk about the things that interest me and my friends. I want a wife who will have arranged that the children are fed and ready for bed before my guests arrive so that the children do not bother us. I want a wife who takes care of the needs of my guests so that they feel comfortable, who makes sure that they have an ashtray, that they are passed the hors d'oeurves, that they are offered a second helping of the food, that their wine glasses are replenished when necessary, that their coffee is served to them as they like it.

And I want a wife who knows that sometimes I need a night out by myself.

I want a wife who is sensitive to my sexual needs, a wife who makes love passionately and eagerly when I feel like it, a wife who makes sure that I am satisfied. And, of course, I want a wife who will not demand sexual attention when I am not in the mood for it. I want a wife who assumes the complete responsibility for birth control, because I do not want more children. I want a wife who will remain sexually faithful to me so that I do not have to clutter up my intellectual life with jealousies. And I want a wife who understands that *my* sexual needs may entail more than strict adherence to monogamy. I must, after all, be able to relate to people as fully as possible.

If, by chance, I find another person more suitable as a wife than the wife I already have, I want the liberty to replace my present wife with another one. Naturally, I will expect a fresh, new life; my wife will take the children and be solely responsible for them so that I am left free.

When I am through with school and have a job, I want my wife to quit working and remain at home so that my wife can more fully and completely take care of a wife's duties.

My God, who *wouldn't* want a wife?

My comments are just as tongue-in-cheek as the essay but I still offer this disclaimer: I do not expect to have someone do all of that for me and nor do I think anyone else should expect all of that either. It is simply unfair to expect anyone - wife or husband - to do all of that. If everyone pulled their own weight in the home then we wouldn't have wives who end up feeling like this:

So lovingly but also logically, I say to anyone stuck in a situation like my last few weeks, overwhelmed with life's to-do lists, to the point that you want a wife like the imaginary one in the essay above, just suck it up and follow this advice ;) 

And thank the wife or mom or friend or roommate who helps out with cooking your meals, cleaning your clothes, making your doctor's appointments, etc. etc. etc.

Southern Belle Side Note: A friend worth peeing on...

In honor of Women's History Month, I thought I would share a bit of my own history about none other than my very best friend... a friend worth peeing on.

Background

Her name is Sara (pronounced Sair-uh) while my name is Sarah (which we jokingly pronounce Sair-Huhhhhhh for the "h"); there is something about Sara(h)s where we tend to attract each other. 

We were both born in the same town, went to the same school for a few years, attended the same church for even longer and spent many a YMCA work-out class giggling and sweating together which cemented our friendship. 

Fortunately, that has allowed our relationship to survive long-distance in college as we go to schools more than 4 hours away from each other. We bridge that gap with frequent texts and facebook messages - plus, we have at least a once-a-week phone date.

In fact, we just ended a phone date which inspired this post!

Setting 

Last summer, Sair-uh and I were at the beach with another friend, Katie. It was a beautiful sunny day without a cloud in the sky. We had been laying out (so not a good idea for me... I'm the one with the awful burn below!) but it was bloody hot so we left our towels and headed to the ocean for some relief in the cool water. 

The Incident

The three of us had not gone far. We were wading about chest-deep in the water, letting the waves wash over our shoulders as we continued our chit chat. It was incredibly relaxing. 

All of a sudden though, Sara did not appear very relaxed. 

She shot up out of the water with a squeal and made it back to the shore, I swear in one swift jump. After that, she took off limping on one leg, heading straight for our things, kicking up sand in her wake. 

Katie and I, horrified at what lay inches below the surface swimming at our feet (oh, and worried about Sara, of course!), sprang up almost as high as her, hoping to make it to the shore in one swift leap like Sara so that we could escape the ocean unscathed. Fortunately, we succeeded and then dashed off after her.

We found her wincing in pain with her foot plunged into our ice chest, a red streak forming on her leg. 

The Culprit

It's funny because when I tell this story to friends at college who are not from the south, they haven't a clue what happened. For all they know, she could have been attacked by some awful, under-water sea monster. 

Close enough: she had been stung by a jellyfish : /

Now that might look unsuspecting, even pretty you might think. And, really, with a name like "jelly" fish, how bad can it be? That sounds cute and innocent enough, right?

Wrong. 

Any true Southern Belle knows a jellyfish can do quite a number on ya, since some species are venomous.

The Rescue

Well, poor Sara had quite a number done on her. 

 This wasn't her but, in case you've never seen a sting, it looked kinda like that but smaller and on her leg. Yea: ouch!

The red welt on her leg was spreading and she was near tears. 

At this point, I had to help.

And any true Southern Belle knows the old wives' tale that the best defense for a jellyfish sting is urine. (This is another funny moment when sharing this story with non-southern friends. They've never heard the wives' tale so they just think I am a nut as they do not see my logical conclusion that jellyfish sting = time to pee on someone!)

And Sara - well, she's a friend worth peeing on.

Desperate times do call for desperate measures ;)

Tears spilling over, ice melting and red welt growing, the time had officially become "desperate."

I asked if she wanted me to pee on her, just to make sure. I knew we were about to enter a new closeness in our relationship ;)

She said, "Yes!!! It hurts!" 

As she was removing her leg from the ice chest and Katie was lifting one of our towels as a make-shift modesty-ensuring curtain, I was lowering into the pop-a-squat position. 

The Real Rescue

Just in time, a lady from a nearby set of beach umbrellas must have looked up from her book to see all of this unfold as she came rushing over offering some meat tenderizer.

Yet again, this is a funny point in the re-telling of this to non-southerners. They are utterly dumb-founded at what the significance of meat tenderizer is. Any one from the Southern culture knows that meat tenderizer might as well be called magic potion for treating jellyfish stings. 

So we quickly sprinkled (hmm, this verb does not seem adequate to describe the frantic and thorough application... maybe: "splattered") the meat tenderizer on her leg.

Crisis averted. I did not pee on my best friend. 

But I would have ;) 

And that is just a bit of history about a woman in my life and some of the Southern culture! 

Disclaimer 

This site says that urine is, in fact, not helpful. I know oodles of old southerners who would debate that. 

My advice: best thing to do is simply to come prepared and keep some meat tenderizer with you!

"You may all go to Hell - and I will go to Texas"... to celebrate Women's History Month

  

You may all go to Hell - and I will go to Texas. 

Those aren't my words. They're Davy Crockett's. 

But he was onto something. 

Though I don't wish anyone to go to hell, I do wish you'd all go to Texas! 

I recently had the pleasure of visiting over my Spring break. I saw lots of cute cowboys strutin their stuff in their blue jeans, boots and over-sized belt-buckles but I wondered why do they get all the credit as the tough Texans.

I figured there had to be some impressive Texas women. 

And I was right!

Since March is Women's History Month I thought it absolutely appropriate to do (and share) a little research on them ;) 

  

This website had several impressive Texan cowgirls; here are some of my favorites: 

• Angelina: She is the only woman to have a Texas river, a county, and a national forest named for her. In 1690, the name Angelina was given at baptism to a Native-American woman who was educated by Spanish friars at the Mission of San Juan Bautista on the Rio Grande and perhaps also at the College of Zacatecas. She spoke Spanish as well as several Indian languages so she became a translator, including translating for an expedition that founded the Alamo and the city of San Antonio. 

 

•  Sarah Horton Cockrell: (1819 – 1892) She was a very successful businesswoman who built the first iron bridge over the Trinity River at Dallas in 1872 and Dallas' first three-story hotel. Left a widow with small children in 1858, all she had was a stack of debts and her husband's ferry business. She thought big and invested wisely. She set up her own corporations, the Dallas Bridge Company, and the S. H. Cockrell Co., which owned a flour mill. When she died in 1892, her properties were so extensive that her will had to be published in pamphlet form. 

   

•  Bessie Coleman: (1892-1926) She was one of the first licensed female pilots and the world's first black female aviator and barnstormer, had a spectacular but brief career in air shows. She was born in Atlanta, Texas, the twelfth of 13 children. Her mother, an illiterate former slave, borrowed books so Bessie could learn to read. She encouraged young blacks to become involved in aviation. She once refused to perform in Waxahachie, where she had grown up, until blacks were allowed to use the same entrance as whites to the exhibition. Black aviators memorialized her by naming their flying clubs and their magazine after her. In 1990, a street to Chicago's O'Hare Airport was named Bessie Coleman Drive, and, in 1995, the U.S. Postal Service issued a commemorative stamp in her honor.

 

•  Sarah T.Hughes: (1896-1985) She was an attorney, legislator, women's rights activist, United Nations supporter, and Texas' first female state and federal judge. A member of a Dallas law firm from 1923 to 1935, she was elected to her first term in the Texas House of Representatives as a Democrat in 1930 and voted "Most Valuable Member" her second term.She was national president of the Federation of Business and Professional Women's Clubs in 1952. The national organization spearheaded her nomination for the vice presidency on the Democratic Party ticket that year, the first woman ever considered, though she withdrew her name. And, after Kennedy's assassination in 1963, she administered the Presidential oath of office to Lyndon B. Johnson.
  
   
• Mildred "Babe" Didrikson Zaharias: (1911 – 1956) She earned more medals and set more records in more sports than any other athlete, male or female, in the twentieth century. She dominated the women's events at the 1932 Olympics, winning three gold medals and setting world records in the 80-meter hurdles and the javelin throw. She excelled in every sport she tried and, in particular, won every existing women's golf title. In 1953, she was elected to the Texas Sports Hall of Fame. The only race she ever lost was to cancer, in 1956. 

• Sarah Ragle Weddington: (1945 – ) She is best known for having successfully argued the 1973: Roe v. Wade abortion rights case before the U.S. Supreme Court. She was one of only 40 among 1,600 students at the law school at the University of Texas at Austin. She was active in the Texas women's movement, lobbied in the Texas Legislature for passage of the Equal Rights Amendment and was a founder of the Texas Women's Political Caucus. She was elected to the Texas House of Representatives in 1972 and helped with the following: 

• change the law that prevented women from getting credit cards in their own names
• stopped schools from firing pregnant teachers
•  improved the treatment of rape victims.

•  Also, under President Jimmy Carter, she became general counsel for the Department of Agriculture in Washington, an advisor to the president on women's issues, and later became a member of the White House senior staff. She now teaches at the University of Texas at Austin, writes, and speaks publicly, particularly about women and leadership.

Pretty impressive, right? 

I bet there are even more impressive women in your own state. So look them up. 

ALSO, celebrate the women in Your. Own. History.

One of the things I did on my trip was visit family and look at old family photographs. I got to see a picture of my great, great, great grandmother!?! Talk to your moms, aunts, grandmothers and others to learn about the women you came from.  

This month's 2011 theme is "Our History is Our Strength." 

I hope you find both.

Happy Women's History Month!!!

Bathrooms rather than Boardrooms... Female Networking

One of my dearest friends - Chelsea - and I have built our relationship in the bathroom.

I know that sounds odd but it is true.

I cannot tell you the countless conversations we have had in our 3 years as house-mates; the funny thing is that most of them have occurred in the bathroom.

Not our rooms.
Or the kitchen.
Not even our fabulous porch.

But the bathroom. There is something about the bathroom that for women creates an immediate bond and a safe haven to let the floodgates of communication burst open.

And I'm not talking just a gossip fest or make-up advice.

I'm talking stresses and successes of the day.
Crush updates.
Family dramas.
Hopes and dreams.

Chelsea and I have covered all of that and more all while applying mascara, preparing for a shower or straightening our hair and those sorts of things.

I cannot tell you how many quick trips to the bathroom to brush my teeth or paint my toes ended up being an hour-long conversation over things as minor as our exercise plan and as major as how we plan to impact the world one day.

Something tells me that boys just don't do this.

I might be wrong but take a look at any public restroom line and its pretty easy to see which gender lingers in the bathroom ;)

But it wasn't until last week at the Women in Business Conference sponsored and organized by the Center for Women that I realized female bonding in the bathroom is an effective tool for networking.

The conference - Pathways to Power - was absolutely wonderful and I met a ton of great, powerful, successful women. There were even organized sessions of speed networking much like I have mentioned before, buuuuuuutttttt the place I made the most connections and swapped the most business cards was.....

You guessed it: in the bathroom. 

Starting with a simple "cute shoes" or "I love that lip gloss" opened that floodgate of female communication and connection - aka networking.

Seriously, for women, business deals can at least be started - if not made - in bathrooms rather than boardrooms. It's a Southern Belle kinda way to do business ;)

We, as women, need to keep this in mind and take advantage of it... also, any guys reading this might want to consider the strategy (in your own bathroom, that is!).

The Ladies bathroom - a safe and solely female space - is full of opportunity for female networking.

It goes back to point of view - the next time you're stuck in a long line waiting to pee...  assuming, you aren't doing this....

you could, in all seriousness, not complain though it might be hard to do - especially if the line looks like this:

But such a situation is the perfect opportunity to make lemonade out of the lemons (or long lines) that life hands you!

Next time you're in a long bathroom line, make the most of it as an opportunity to do a little networking!

Point of View is Important - February 14th and Conception ;)

Point of view IS important.

The exact same thing can be quite different depending on your point of view.

Take this past Monday, February 14th, for example.

To most in a relationship or on the cusp of one, February 14th is Valentine's Day... full of love and chocolate and kisses.

To everyone else, February 14th is Singles Awareness Day... one of my friends recently pointed out that its abbreviation actually spells S.A.D.

Ouch.

But in reality, February 14th is just a day... it only changes with your point of view (aka relationship status).

I recently read another great example where the exact same thing changes depending on the point of view:

Conception.

Yes, for real...

Thanks to my Gender and Society textbook ;)

Here is what it said:

You've probably imagined sperm as hardy warriors swimming purposefully upstream, against the current, on a suicide mission to fertilize that egg, or die. (p29)

Right? Now, that clearly is the point of view of the SPERM. And it sounds like all I have ever heard before about conception: to quote Dori out of context from Finding Nemo, I imagine the sperm: "Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming."  All with intense purpose. Maybe even wearing helmets or goggles ;)

However, my book continues and shows a very uncommon take on conception:

Here's what it actually looks like: [A] wastefully huge swarm of sperm weakly flops along, its members bumping into walls and flailing aimlessly through thick strands of mucus. Eventually, through sheer odds of pinball-like bouncing... a few sperm end up close enough to an egg. As they mill around, the egg selects one and reels it in, pinning it down in spite of its efforts to escape. It's no contest, really. The gigantic hardy egg yanks the tiny sperm inside, distills out the chromosomes, and sets out to become an embryo. (p 29, quoting"The Aggressive Egg" by David Freeman)

Definitely different, right? That point of view clearly comes from the EGG.

Point of view IS important.

So, whether it is February 14th or conception or whatever else you're dealing with... be sure to consider your point of view - you can choose to view the situation as a glass half full or a glass half empty.

And if this past Monday got you down (or S.A.D.), at the risk of being too corny, I remind you that there are other fish in the sea and I'll leave you with this little motto from Dori, my favorite Finding Nemo character:

Lastly, I apologize if, like Nemo's dad, you get stuck with that song in your head ;)

Barbie Syndrome... even for boys

I have a love/hate relationship with Barbie.

I do like her, believe me. I had what would probably be considered too many Barbie things growing up:

• I had a small army of nearly 50 (k, maybe that is an exaggeration... 30?) Barbies - men, women, even retro ones - some of my aunts' dolls from the 70s that my Granny kept. 

• Then there was the hot pink, remote-controlled convertible. Oh yes! 

• And, the crowning glory: my 3-story, bright pink Barbie Dream-House complete with an elevator and a cat that purred from the kitchen sink windowsill. No lie.

My Barbies - even just one - provided endless hours of entertainment. 


And they also provided 

the breeding ground for body and beauty insecurities. 

For me and nearly every other girl in America.

It is no surprise really.

BARBIE WAS THE TOP-SELLING TOY IN THE 20th CENTURY!?! (1)

So she affected a lot of girls. But not in a good way.

Check out this comparison of the average woman and Barbie: (1)

                      Height:             5'4"                            6'

                Weight:            145 lbs.                      101 lbs. 

                Dress Size:       11-14                          4 

                Bust:                 36-37"                        39"

                Waist:               29-31"                        19"

                Hips:                 40-42"                       33"

Frightening right?

A more accurate Barbie might look like this: 

But would we still play with her? Want to dress her up? 

I think there should be a balance between unattainable beauty standards but also health. I'm not sure that the above picture strikes that balance but it certainly does make a point: 

Barbies don't look like real women. 

This is being dubbed "Barbie Syndrome."(1)

The odd thing is that it has started to affect boys as well. 

It seems their dolls (excuse me: "action figures"), have set some pretty high body standards as well. 

"Male action figures have grown increasingly muscular over the years. GI Joes, for example, have biceps that are twice as large as those of a typical man and larger than those of any known bodybuilder. These action figures (and comic strip heroes) put boys at risk of developing the 'Barbie Syndrome' - unrealistic expectations for their bodies. As a result, some researchers maintain, increasing numbers of men are becoming preoccupied with working out and taking dangerous drugs such as anabolic steroids" (1) emphasis added

Good, maybe people will pay attention to the problem now. 

Don't get me wrong, I still wear pink and high heels and I wouldn't mind driving a pink convertible around BUT I'd like to do that without worrying about blowing away in the wind because I don't weigh enough to be fully human and healthy. 

Also, I'd love for my future daughter one day to have a Barbie Dream-House and all that I had but 

my hope is that...

her Barbies will provide a realistic body image. 

Further, I hope that her Barbie will be arriving at her Dream-House, getting back from some fabulous job where she will be far too busy planning exciting, intelligent and more important things than to have to waste brain energy worrying over whether her business suit makes her butt look big or something shallow like that.

(1) These notes were taken from my textbook: Marriages & Families: Changes, Choices, and Constraints by Nijole V. Benokraitis, 7th ed, 2011,  p 116-117