I Swear I'm A Girl

Listen, I realize as a woman I'm supposed to love three things:  1. Chocolate.  2. Purses. and 3. Cupcakes.  Well, folks, check my ovaries because I don't get any of these things.  Chocolate is good - don't get me wrong, but what's with the dying devotion to this stuff?  I remember after a particularly hard day at work a woman said to me, "I think you just need to head home, put your feet up and grab as much chocolate as you can find."  What?  Why?  Did she think a ridiculous amount of insulin pulsing from my pancreas was going to magically make all my troubles go away?  Did she grow up in the Willy Wonka factory?

Ah, yes, and then purses.  I see the functionality of them, but I don't understand the hype or size of these insanely overpriced things?  What pray tell are women carrying in these purses the sizes of laundry bags?  Are they carrying laundry?  Costco quantities of gum?  Tax refunds and receipts from the past ten years in case they are stopped for an immediate audit?  What?  Seriously, in my world I need an American Express, car keys and a phone.  Am I even allowed to carry a purse with so few things?

And lastly, cupcakes.  Ahhhh...cupcakes.  I just don't get it.  I'm sorry - revoke my right to sit while peeing - what is with the cupcakes?  First, holy icing.  Who thought it would be a good idea to put a stick of butter on a dried out inch of cake?  Who? I want names.  And don't even get me started on the prices.  Well, you did, you got me started.  $3.50 for a "shoulders shrugging and best Robert DeNiro face" piece of cake and some cream cheese infused, sugar whipped, cinnamon spread of pasteurized milk from organic farms in Ireland  (Alright, I got a little carried away there) icing.  Folks, I'm not going to lie, I've had this amazing icing before and it came from a nasty cake bought from Alberstons.  It ain't special - just overpriced.  

You know what I would rather spend $3.50 on?  A sign and stick of wood that I would place outside cupcake store that reads: Don't Buy This Stuff.  Or stock in a time machine company so I could transport myself back before the cupcake rage and enjoy gobs and gobs of ice cream cake.  Now, that is something worth getting excited about.  Or a box of cake mix and icing from the grocery store!

Listen, I'm a girl - I promise.  I cried during The Help, I gave birth, I'm always cold, I hate maps (that's for the husband) and I shave...at least once a week.  Just stop with the unwritten laws of females!

Go ahead click that female to your right.  All the girls are doing it.