~~She'll loan you her toothbrush, She'll bartend your party~~
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Tuesday, July 15, 2003
| I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR
Since the news from the homefront has been somewhat lackluster here the past few days, I should hate to bore anyone with the minutiae of my daily life. There already is a blog for that. Instead, I choose to go back to the events of the past weekend. After relating the whole story of the picnic to my friend who was in absentia for the soiree, I have--in hindsight--become more irritated than I realized. This lovely picnic was thrown by the girlfriend of my friend Jim*. *Absolutely no names have been changed to protect the un-innocenty ones. Anyone who knows me knows that I am all about female empowerment and that I staunchly spout my "anything you can do" attitude often. THIS, however, is one instance when I totally think that the stereotypical gender roles should have been followed. Ok. Re-reading that last sentence, I need to clarify. I guess it is not the gender roles that I believe need to be followed. It's really more common human courtesy. In fact, that's all it is. Common courtesy. Allow me to explain. Jim's girlfriend was technically the one throwing the party. It was at her house, the majority of the people invited were her friends, and I am sure (knowing Jim) that the money spent on all the food and drinks was primarily hers. That being said, however, Jim invited QUITE a few of his own friends (myself and others included) to attend as well--which we did. Therefore, in some respect, Jim had as much of a vested interest in this picnic as she did. She felt the pressure of being the hostess--and she did a wonderful job, might I add. The drawback of being the hostess is that you never can have quite as much fun as your guests because you are trying so hard to make sure that your party doesn't suck. This, of course, was the case at the picnic. Now, here's where all the normal people in the world (an by "normal," I mean all non-social-neanderthals) would, if they were in a cartoon, have the little lightbulb of realization *blink* on above their cartoon noggins. Rather than getting up off of his ass to help her with the food, the guests, the whateverthehellneedstobedoneatapicnic, Jim chose to perch himself on his lawnchair throne ALL FREAKIN' DAY. Even after numerous thinly-veiled attempts to hint to him that perhaps he should be helping her in some way ("You know, Jim, there seems to be smoke billowing from the grill, and she's kind of busy trying to get the condiments for the burgers and dogs out on the table. Maybe you should check on the burgers before the fire department arrives."), he still would not budge. The only task apparently worthy of his man-skills was the "checking of the keg." For a full hour at the beginning of the party, he made about 35 trips to THE KEG to make sure that the set-up was properly iced, the air pressure was correct and that the brew was flowing cleanly. Yet, if the task was anything other than that, he was glued to the seat. Here's my gripe: if this is someone you supposedly LOVE, wouldn't you want to do everything you could to help make the party a success? And to ensure that your partner had just as good a time as you did? And wouldn't you feel that the whole thing reflected on you as well, since you are part of a recognized couple (which constitues a team of sorts)? *sigh* I suppose I shall never understand the psyche of Jim. Then again, we have long recognized that Jim and his brother are a breed of their own. ¶ Ξ PDawg Composed at 6:12:00 PM |
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