Girls obsess.
I saw the saddest thing today. While walking down First Avenue, I passed a pile of garbage bags, and sitting on top was a wood-framed corkboard filled with nothing but pictures of a girl with her boyfriend. There wasn’t a square inch of space on that thing that wasn’t covered by only they’re smiling faces next to each other, recording their every memory and milestone. I’m not sure what was sadder—the fact that the sign of this girl’s relationship ending was a teen-aged style collage, or the fact that it’s obvious that the owner of those memories HAD to be a girl.
When I told a guy about this sad sight I saw today, he replied, “The guy probably broke up with that chick because he thought she was psycho for being that obsessive. If that was my girlfriend, I’d tell her she was crazy.” This got me thinking about how as girls, we really do tend to obsess a bit, and especially when it comes to guys. While I don’t think most girls I know would hang a collage of photographs of only her and her boyfriend, most guys I know barely own more than one framed photograph.
Girls are the ones doodling in our notebooks as kids, “Mrs. Johnny Smith.” I recall all of the girls in my middle school knowing which girl had a crush on who, (and if they didn’t, they were determined to get it out of you), yet the guys could care less.
Even one of my best friends, L, is constantly preoccupying herself with the guy she’s been dating. Before she started dating him, she called me every time something progressed in their courting stage; such as they had a conversation that lasted longer than five minutes. She continued to note and analyze every move he made. She then started pressuring him to meet her parents before he ever called her his girlfriend. Even one of my female coworkers was analyzing her relationship at six months. She compared it to every other relationship around the office that started around the same time. Since one person said the “L” word, she worried that she was supposed to. Another relationship was getting pretty serious too, and she started reading further into her own. She told me something must be wrong with the way things were going with her boyfriend, when logically, things were just different. One day maybe I will find out if these are things guys actually obsess over, but just don’t fess up to doing.
The female population probably makes up the majority of the consumers for trashy tabloids like US Weekly and InTouch Magazines, and only because we HAVE to know who’s dating who, who got royally dumped by who, who’s now hot and available for us to daydream about, even though, of course, we don’t personally know these people. (I’m embarrassed to admit that I actually flipped through one of those left at my apartment tonight by a guest, from cover to cover. So pathetically addictive). It’s why females are the ones who are known to watch the soap operas. We NEED to know what’s going on with everyone else’s lives. It’s also probably why I’m sitting here, writing this fictional account about a tragic breakup that could be nothing more than a couple’s quarrel, or even an angry roommate. Some people may even think I’m obsessing over this topic, but I guess you can call it being a girl.
When I told a guy about this sad sight I saw today, he replied, “The guy probably broke up with that chick because he thought she was psycho for being that obsessive. If that was my girlfriend, I’d tell her she was crazy.” This got me thinking about how as girls, we really do tend to obsess a bit, and especially when it comes to guys. While I don’t think most girls I know would hang a collage of photographs of only her and her boyfriend, most guys I know barely own more than one framed photograph.
Girls are the ones doodling in our notebooks as kids, “Mrs. Johnny Smith.” I recall all of the girls in my middle school knowing which girl had a crush on who, (and if they didn’t, they were determined to get it out of you), yet the guys could care less.
Even one of my best friends, L, is constantly preoccupying herself with the guy she’s been dating. Before she started dating him, she called me every time something progressed in their courting stage; such as they had a conversation that lasted longer than five minutes. She continued to note and analyze every move he made. She then started pressuring him to meet her parents before he ever called her his girlfriend. Even one of my female coworkers was analyzing her relationship at six months. She compared it to every other relationship around the office that started around the same time. Since one person said the “L” word, she worried that she was supposed to. Another relationship was getting pretty serious too, and she started reading further into her own. She told me something must be wrong with the way things were going with her boyfriend, when logically, things were just different. One day maybe I will find out if these are things guys actually obsess over, but just don’t fess up to doing.
The female population probably makes up the majority of the consumers for trashy tabloids like US Weekly and InTouch Magazines, and only because we HAVE to know who’s dating who, who got royally dumped by who, who’s now hot and available for us to daydream about, even though, of course, we don’t personally know these people. (I’m embarrassed to admit that I actually flipped through one of those left at my apartment tonight by a guest, from cover to cover. So pathetically addictive). It’s why females are the ones who are known to watch the soap operas. We NEED to know what’s going on with everyone else’s lives. It’s also probably why I’m sitting here, writing this fictional account about a tragic breakup that could be nothing more than a couple’s quarrel, or even an angry roommate. Some people may even think I’m obsessing over this topic, but I guess you can call it being a girl.
posted by Lizzy T. @ 8:45 PM
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