Am I a Metro-Sexual Girl?

I was in the midst of a somewhat serious conversation with a very close girlfriend when the topic of my emotional availability (or unavailability as the case may be) came up.  I was trying to explain to her that, while I am a very caring person who appreciates my female friends, I’m just not “that” girl.  You know, the one who remembers every birthday, anniversary, and first shared shoe-gasm.   I'm not going to spend hours reminiscing about the first time we drank wine  long into the night and discussed that touching movie we saw on the Hallmark Channel about the woman whose husband cheated on her right after her dog died and then she had a baby by his brother, but then the brother got some terminal disease so she felt obligated to stay with him even if he was a one-off to get her a love-child but he was gonna die so she was stuck in the relationship… or something.  I don’t watch the Hallmark Channel.  I would rather stick myself in the eyeball with a flaming pitchfork.  I am not that girl.

But I am still a good friend.   I care.   If you don’t think I care you can suck it.

SHE said “Holy hell!  YOU’RE the GUY!”  Really?  I am NOT the guy in this friendship.  I do not scratch my nuggets.  I don’t even have nuggets to scratch.   I don’t burp or do any other bodily functions that most “normal” human type people do.  Don’t be gross.   In fact, I am a very girly girl.  I enjoy wearing make up, getting my nails done, my hair fixed up and dressing nicely.  I like being a princess (or diva, as the case may be).   I really am, in a lot of ways, a girly girl.  So then she looked at me with sudden realization in her eyes:  “You’re a metro-sexual GIRL!!!”   What the…

So, we got a good laugh out of the situation and I was forced to analyze myself.  Am I really the counter-part to the metro-sexual man?  Let’s see:  I am a straight-ish female (hush, this is MY blog) who doesn’t watch Lifetime but enjoys shopping.  I have always been a somewhat of a jock (er, "fitness enthusiast") but I like being coddled sometimes.   I am independent.  I make my own money, I enjoy being surrounded by intelligent, fun people.  I have little tolerance for emotional neediness in others .  My phrase of choice seems to be “Suck it up and deal with it, we all have problems.”  But I don’t mean it in a bad way.  I actually think I am being helpful.   I will hug you while you have a good cry but probably not all night.  I will NOT sit and spoon feed you chocolate and listen to music that reminds you of your ex.   I will give you a punching bag and some gloves and provoke you to beat the hell out of it.  Or tell jokes.  I’m not good with the deep stuff.

I love to shop for shoes and look at pretty boys.  Gay men are my kryptonite.  I love them and they love me.  Every time.  We are made for each other like peanut butter and jelly.   I think it’s because they make such good shoe shopping companions.  And they WILL tell me if my butt looks too big in that outfit.  But in a fabulously bitchy and fun way that no straight man could ever pull off.  But, I digress...

I will unapologetically explore my sexuality, but I probably won’t call you in the morning.  I will cuddle for awhile, but I have things to do.  Lots and lots of things to do.   I don’t know the meaning of the word “relax”.  I love helping others but if other people try to help me it freaks me out.  I am non-committal and frustrating. 

I am definitely not a typical girl.  And I am not sure I am a metro-sexual girl.   Maybe I’m just nuts.