So as I sit today making my fantasy football picks for tomorrow, I came to some odd conclusions about myself. Granted, it required me seeking the opinion of a penis welding version of my species to bring about the epiphany; but I realized it nonetheless.
I require male confirmation of my own feelings in order to trust them.
What the hell is that about? Using the acute situation which brought to my attention this character flaw of mine, I shall now try to pick it all apart to you in the way that my own mind (minus XY influence, I think…..) processes things….
So I read and listen to the news a lot. Invariably, the media focuses on sports, namely the NFL this time of year. I hear whats going on. My husband, has a little bit of an addiction between talk radio, sports radio, satellite, military, working at Buffalo Wild Wings, Sports Illustrated and anything else that talks about football. To say he likes sports is an understatement. To say he LIVES and breathes football is hardly hyperbole. Add to that the fact that I typically kick his ASS on fantasy football, he never lets me not know something he thinks I should know and occasionally has been known to tell me the opposite of the truth or try to trick me into trading players….previously not suspecting that I was onto him and researching what he is telling me.
Back to me: I do my research. I even check the damn weather where the teams are playing. I can run with the big dogs, the alpha males of Fantasy Football and I kinda pride myself on it. I’m not much into girl stuff, unless there are males involved. Gender profiling? Yes I am just as guilty. BUT>>>>>>>>>
I am also all about the ladies and equality and gender is a social creation yada-yada, not to sound blithe, but I am. I have a whole section of feminist theory and feminist books on my bookshelves. I have been accused of being a femi-nazi more than a few times. However, when it came down to deciding which Running Back to start in my imaginary fantasy football team, I didn’t trust myself to make the right decision until I had a man agree with me. Oy.
So are all my decisions based upon male reactions? Is everything I do to please my daddy? Am I really THAT chick? What if another male disagrees with my roster this week…would I doubt my choice then? This is going to require some deep thinking. Imagine that, soul-searching and learning prompted by the prospect of MEN getting their brains bashed in to chase a ball. Hoorah. Kinda ironic I think.
Regardless, I am playing Earnest Graham over Frank Gore this week. If it doesn’t work out for me, I may just decide to eat bonbons and watch some soap operas since I can’t be barefoot and pregnant.