Girls are crazy...

-->

Let me start out by confessing something most females seem reluctant to say: I LOVE being a girl. And I absolutely, positively, and undeniably wouldn't have it any other way.

As complex and high maintenance as we are, girls definitely run the world (credit to Beyonce on that one). Now, this might not be true from the standpoint of politics or business, but women are the givers in the circle of life. And that, I believe, is a pretty important job. Some people will retort, "Well, the woman might bear children, but men provide the 'life source' in the equation: the sperm." True, an egg must be fertilized in order to develop into a living embryo. However, science also proves that the sperm literally provides nothing to development except one set of genetic material. The egg, in all its glory, provides the nutrients, the growth signals, the living space, and, of course, another set of chromosomes. 

Thus, it seems women do all the work in maintaining society. And, as rough as it may be sometimes, that is something every woman should be proud of. We are extremely complex beings, much more so than our male counterparts (who surprisingly only genetically differ from us with one small region of one small chromosome). 

"Bra sizes"

I am ranting about the fantastical role of women in our world, because both of today's readings were written by women from extremely honest and accurate points of view. Dorothy Parker’s “The Waltz” had me laughing the whole way through due to its uncanny, realistic stream of a woman’s consciousness. I’m pretty sure this is exactly how any girl would react (internally!) to being asked to dance by a man she doesn’t want to dance with, and I’m pretty sure many of us girls have gone through this exact situation (for me, it was prom). I think this story exemplifies the brains of women everywhere. We say things we don’t mean and we over-analyze everything we can. Though this story is intended to be hyperbole, it is strangely accurate. Boys, if you think women are complex from the outside, you haven’t a clue to what goes on inside.
 

The second story, “A Few Words about Breasts” by Nora Ephron, was also hilarious, especially from a woman’s perspective. I happen to be a huge fan of breasts (is it OK for me to say boobs?). Men love them, women love them, babies love them… and, really, what’s not to love? Women should be proud of them, in my opinion, as they have many a function in this world. The author’s perspective, however, was that she was scarred for life due to the curse of having small breasts. To be quite honest, I can relate to this. My body shape isn’t one for big boobs, though both my mom and my sister have normal sized ones. Sometimes I lament not having at least a B cup. I mean, that’s Barely even a Boob (get it? B cup? B?). On the other hand, there are quite a few things large busted women have a harder time of doing than those with small chests, and the author mentions this at the end of her story. The author doesn’t like that argument, but I do, and I believe it to be extremely relevant to today’s society in which women are capable of doing anything.

Whatever the size of the breasts, they do matter, especially in the development of a girl’s self esteem. In modern times, though, girls are more confident and open about their womanly issues, leading to higher levels of self esteem. Though the author might not agree, I think boobs are awesome.

 
I also think being a woman is fantastic. Once we stop being so dramatic (alas, not every girl is capable of doing this), we can see the humor in our wildly complex lives. Both of these authors definitely nailed the whole “you’re acting like such a girl” stereotype. And what is the outcome? Hilarity.