If I Were A Boy

I have made my love affair with food no secret.  Love it.  Can't get enough of it.  Since I'm not an animal or a baby, it's not cute to be a fatty, so I try to make a habit to run my ass off at least five days a week.  Now, as much as I eat, a short two mile run won't really cut it, so I try to keep it in the three to five mile range.  I don't always listen to music when I run, but when I do, I like to listen to really mellow, slow songs.  Dancing around to Lady Gaga or B girl really only works if you're running a quick mile or two.  So, today I'm chugging along and the softer side of Ms. Sasha Fierce came up on iTunes.

First of all, I forgot how much I forgot I loved this dang song.  I immediately hit repeat, and listened to it for the last two miles of my run.  Second, it got me thinking, Queen B is definitely on to something here.  Boys have it freakin' made.  What would I like so much about being a boy?

Okay, let's get the obvious out of the way:  Peeing standing up.  This actually doesn't appeal to me that much.  Why would I want to do something standing up that I can do sitting down?  Stupid.

1.  Sports

I started playing softball, volleyball, and/or soccer when I was eight years old.  To this day I can't think of a happy time in my childhood that didn't involve a field or a court, and not because my childhood was sucky or anything, I just loved playing that much.  Still do.

 My junior year of high school, I chit chatted with a couple of colleges about playing two of those sports, but this girl thought she was above going to a community college. So, my last day of high school softball my senior year was it for me.  No more sports.  No more happy place, unless I went on to the Olympics.  I was good, but, ummm, only about .01% of the female sports population is that good.  If I was a boy?  I could have easily made it pro in a sport.  Not. Fair.  I will never know what it feels like to win a World Series and jump in a dog pile like a twelve year old.  I will never know the joy of scoring a touch down.  I will never score a goal and make $30 million for posing in my undies.

Mercy.

2.  Hormones

I would kill to get rid of those suckers.  The only thing they're good for is the occasional murder defense.  I'm halfway through the first season of Nashville and I'm pretty ashamed of how many songs have made me cry.  Per episode.  I'm pretty sure the only thing that can make a dude cry is one of those hateful little ASPCA commercials.

 

 This bitch.  

3.  They're well taken care of

Those bastards are waited on hand and foot since the day they're born.  It starts with their mothers and then we get them.  And if they're smart they'll time a serious relationship perfectly with moving out of their parents' house.  They go from one lady taking care of them straight to another one.  This one complains more, but they're still not doing the dishes.  Now, I was quite the little brat when I was younger, and didn't really have much by way of chores, but next thing I knew, I'm doing all those fun little tasks that I used to yell at my mother to do a little more quietly while I was watching TV, and then it dawns on me that it will never end, and I pull out the yellow pages and start maid shopping.

4.  Metabolism

This. This is the least fair of them all.  I've actually been extremely lucky and my metabolism has sped up since high school.  I know.  Freak show.  But I don't question it, I just keep enjoying my Doritos as a post work out snack.  But absolutely nothing makes me question my love for my boyfriend like watching him enjoy Taco Bell and stay the same size without running as much as I do. 

Yeah, I do, Karen.  Every day.  You know what goes with breakfast, lunch, and dinner?  Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes. 

So, what did we learn today, kids?  Boys:  Can't live with them, but you can kill them and sometime blame PMS.