All in a Good Day's Hobby (or There's Actually Shit to do on Mars)

While on a recent trip, I heard what is most likely the most astounding revelation about the fundamental difference between men and women I have ever heard.  Like, ever.  Like most Eureka! moments, I realized that this explanation was simple, elementary, yet oft overlooked, like money on the ground (which my sister always manages to find. In fact, the one time I found a $10 in a puddle at Lakeshore Athletic Club, I naively bought dinner for my family instead of miser-ing it for myself. This explains why I am always broke - but that's another blog post entirely).
Ok - and I need to be clear here that this statement was by no means conceptualized by me, although I am a heavy endorser of it.  I didn't think of it myself, although I wish I did.  Those of you who know me know that I am pretty much the anti-feminist - which is to say that although I believe in gender equality, which I heartily do, I think that the words feminine and masculine still have their place in my personal dictionary, and I like getting flowers and having doors held open for me and being able to dress slutty on Halloween and shaving my legs and wearing makeup and doing "girly" shit.  Real equality comes when we can all be ourselves and only be judged on our abilities and performance, not the genitals in our pants (OR skirts).
Now that I'm done disclaiming, and you're all at the edges of your proverbial seats, biting your proverbial nails, I'll fucking get to it already:

MEN HAVE HOBBIES.

WOMEN HAVE 1 HOBBY: MEN.

Think about it.  Don't burn me at the stake for reversing Women's Suffrage.  Just let it sink in.  When you get together with all your girlfriends, open a couple bottles of Pinot Grigio, and turn on Real Housewives of Wherever, what the fuck do you talk about?  I'm not judging you from any sort of Ivory Tower, because I am guilty of it, too.

Seriously. What. Do. You. Talk. About?

If the answer is "men", then you're correct.  It's all we talk about.  We're girls.  Sure, other subjects might creep in every now and then, very sporadically, but the crux of every conversation that women have with each other is men.  It's why I have male friends - not separating myself from the pack at all, but when I feel like talking about books or music or football, I seek out something with a dick.  It usually works.

Don't get me wrong. I love being a woman.  We smell better.  We get to hold childbirth over men's heads.  Generally speaking, we're more intelligent. But we waste all that intelligence on men.  So, ladies. Come over to my house and play Jeopardy! with me, or let's go fishing, or go to the Garfield Park Conservatory with our cameras (they are useful for other things besides group shots at the bar, you know).  I love you all.  But shut the fuck up about men for once (this includes me).

XO