Who do I still think I am??

This one's about talking, hair, and more fiction.

30DBC PROMPT: "Do women talk more than men? There is a new science study on this topic; what do you think? Don't be shy, say it like it is."

Yes y'all! Welcome back to another potentially bombastic entry, with a "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  prompt that has the merit to maybe spark some discussion depending on the differences of opinion that may or may not exist. And it's possible that I could be wrong and I'm just over-thinking this whole thing...maybe some women in the party here will cross enemy lines in this "Battle Of The Sexes" type of question. Who knows? We'll see when it's all over.

Now, based solely on my own experiences (before anyone gets the idea I'm some sexist miscreant), I do believe women talk more than men. A lot more. And I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing...I just think that all men wanna do is get in, get to the point, order a pizza, and not be bothered. Women on the other hand are about the details and the little things, and "How did it make you feel?" and "Remember when we were talking about this the other day?" It's true. And lord have mercy on your soul if you don't completely recall a minuscule sentence fragment from weeks before that somehow makes its way back into a current conversation.

I hate to defer my opinion on this to someone else, but take the three minutes to watch this Chris Rock   clip on relationships. I very much concur with what he says...he nails the dichotomy within the coupling between men and women.

See, it's like this: when guys call up their buddies to see what's up, it's a ten minute phone call primarily to confirm plans or just catch up. Men don't waste steps during conversations...it's point A to point B and that's it. On the other hand, a guy can courtesy-call his significant other when he's on his way to the grocery store to see if there's anything we might need, and it goes from "Can you pick up some eggs" to work drama, doctor's appointment updates, and familial crises that can't wait another half hour until you're home and you can privately discuss details face-to-face. There's little sense of what the guy on the other end of the line is actually doing, and there's no such thing as cutting to the chase, because every sentence has some sort of hidden meaning and every story has purposeful point.

I've found the best way to mentally please a woman is just to listen and show your concern. You don't want to talk and say too much, because you never know what kind of vitriolic can of worms you might be opening up should you say something that doesn't jive with how a woman feels about something (even though it may not really have been made clear from the onset). There's a reason why so many people believe in the statement "Happy wife, happy life." The last place you wanna be is trying to sleep next to a pissed-off woman because of something you thought would add substantially to a conversation only to have made it worse by opening your big, dumb mouth. Women can talk all day and are seldom wrong...men are better off when they don't say too much or offer strong dissent, and overall, I'm sure statistically that's why men don't talk as much as the fairer sex.

Lyn's a Witchy Woman , my only qualm about this prompt (I know I mentioned to you that I liked it, and I do) is that you mentioned a scientific study on this topic...it would've been nice to have an article regarding it as a point of reference. Not knocking you at all for it (and I knew you were just playin' last night during our email exchange), but for future reference, I think it would be good to back up a prompt like this with some raw data so we don't have to hope we're all looking at the same numbers or points of view.

BCF PROMPT: "People spend a lot of time on their hair. Does your hair color or style say anything about you?"

I spend practically zero time on my hair besides washing it and shaving around the sides and back every couple of weeks. I made the decision about a year ago (well, maybe longer, but last summer was when I began to implement it) to try to grow dreadlocks. My hair grows fast, and because of what I'm doing it's still in an awkward stage where it looks rather ridiculous...I need to get in that mop and trim some of it up so it's better sectioned, but I'm too lazy and luckily I can get away with shoving it under a hat whenever I need to leave the house.

I'm also fortunate because even though my hair is physically very fine in nature, I can grow it out and it looks pretty good on me (so I've been told). Not many men can pull off long hair, from what I've heard, so I guess I've got that goin' for me.

That's not to say I haven't done some weird shit with my hair...in high school I was always shaving weird lines and whatnot into my buzz-cuts, or dying it random shades of blonde. I tried coloring my hair with Kool-Aid too, and the next day it rained, ruining my hat and my shirt. Raspberry makes a nice tint, but I'm naturally brown so it didn't wear well.

It's great that society seems to be less-judgmental about personal appearances (hair colors, tattoos, etc.). People should be judged on their merits, not just their looks. It's not about what a person's got goin' on around their exterior; can they perform their given tasks and assigned duties? Is their heart in the right place? Can they be trusted/counted on when they're needed the most? Stereotypes have faded considerably. The long-haired hippy could be the doctor that saves your life; the tattooed biker dude might also be the best damned human rights activist in your community. You just don't know, and people deserve the benefit of the doubt as opposed to being shunned as less than human because their face is pierced up like a gnarled rock star. We should be encouraging self-expression, not frowning upon it...if you want a society of robots, start building them .

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Because "My Adidas" didn't fit the entry...and from the sound of this song the talking chromosome isn't limited to the ladies either.

"You're the damn Walter Cronkite of the neighborhood."
Lyrics.  

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

Another double-shot of prompts in "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" , courtesy of Princess Megan Snow Rose ...is my girl a part of the Mitchopolis /Charlie ~ conspiracy?

"Which old fashioned monster do you find the most frightening? Frankenstein, Count Dracula, the Mummy, or the Wolfman?"

"Which fictional character would you most like to be for one day?"

Maybe I'm a wet blanket, but because I know these characters don't exist, I'm not too terribly frightened by any of them. Oh sure, I'd take a straight-up pause and have a proverbial heart attack if someone dressed up like one snuck up behind me, but that happens when normal people creep on me too. Wanna fuck with me? Touch me from behind when I don't know you're there. I'm always jumpy and I hate it when people catch me off-guard. I'm usually too lost in thought or focused on whatever I'm doing, and if you're that sinister enough to disrupt my mind's flow, I will shame you and/or retaliate...maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, your path will become troubled by my shocking vengeance. You will taste my wrath so hard you'll psychologically wish you never even thought to disturb me...I will find your weakness and see to it that you're eaten alive by it. Bank it, son.

But if I had to supply an actual prompt-abiding answer, I'd guess Frankenstein. He's a legit scientific invention, created in a lab out of other people. What can go wrong? Everything. There's no predictability, no silver bullet, no sunlight, no weird undead misconceptions. He's an unstable menace with fucking bolts coming out of his neck. Why wouldn't that be terrifying? You get all Frank on me and I'll probably turn into a capable killing machine out of self-preservation, as opposed to not fully knowing what's going on in my surroundings and succumbing to a weirdo anomaly like Dracula or a mummy. The Werewolf might actually be friendly, because he's self-conscious about his lot in life and his effed-up over-hairness, like Chewbacca...he just needs a hug more than he wants to eat you for breakfast. Dracula can be tamed by a cross and the sun, and a mummy, ummm, I don't get, but I'm sure there's ways of assuaging one and it's not like you see one every day unless you're, like, diggin' for treasures in Egypt or some shit (and if you are, you probably have the means to take one down as well in your bag of tricks).

As for the fictional character I'd like to be most for one day, I don't know. I once read a book called The Dice Man  , written under the pseudonym Luke Rhinehart (I have no idea why I wanted to read it, and I had to special-order it when I worked at Waldenbooks freakin' years ago...it was hard to find). Basically it's about a psychiatrist who turns to using the rolls of dice to make his decisions for him in all facets of his life. It's a crazy fantastic read and eye-opening about how insane people can get when they leave life up to the shake of the bones. You live by the outcome and your peace with it has already been made when you decide to assign options to numbers, promising yourself to abide by them at any cost. It's nuts, and I want to read it again, but I no longer have my copy and can't seem to find it in any library system I've looked for it in.

And why would I want to be that guy? I'd have the educational cache to be able to pull it off under the guise of "experimental therapy". I could justify bad decisions as a factual roll of the dice. Maybe I'd do things I wouldn't normally find myself experiencing if I were just boring and complacent. Everything, from what kind of soap I buy at the store to the thought of sniffin' blow off a hooker's ass, would be outta my hands and left to chance.

It's a great book if you can find it...kinda long and windy, but still exceptional if you can devote time and head space to it. If it could get away with being that guy minus repercussions, I'd be all over it like stupid on...ummm, exceptionally stupid. (Sorry...my metaphor thought process is broken right now.)

Stuart Scott...I've mentioned him before. He's a beloved SportsCenter anchor, and yesterday was the ESPY's...ESPN's awards show devoted to all that is sports. He received a Perseverance award, and his acceptance speech   was both beautiful and moving. He's a father, a cancer survivor, and a straight-up baller of a man not only in the industry, but in life. We could all learn a lot from him.

I'm tellin' you...this is most ingenious idea ev-arhhh!! But sometimes even the best-laid intentions go undesirably wrong. I'm grateful that this grilled cheese incident   was brought to my attention before I had the common sense to think it might not be a good idea. I'm not totally stupid, but I'm smart enough to admit that I could see this happening to me (and then being pretty pissed off about it...mainly because the cheese side landed on the floor; not because I was soooo haaan-gry).

And, well, speaking of haaan-gry, I should get outta here and decide if my microwaveable cup of Rice-A-Roni at work was enough to sustain me for the remainder of the day. I'm kinda feelin' the urge to eat, but my legs are screamin' at me from being on them so much today...that's what bein' super-busy at work gets you when people decide it's cool to unload trucks of donated stuff on you...my surgically healing body is still trying to reconcile my determination with my limitations. And I haven't even begun to figure out how I'm gonna deal with the bus ride to my college admissions advisement appointment tomorrow morning. Think me some good thoughts. Peace, homeboy you never shut up, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!