I Am What I Am

I ought to Kelka quote to maintain a balance of humor and seriousness. Perhaps tomorrow.

I was hanging out with one of my best friends, and we had a conversation that went something like this:

Me: I'm getting lovehandles; I need to work out more regulary.
Her: You do not have lovehandles.
Me: I do! I'll show you.
Her: Oh for fuck's sake
Me: Yes?
Her: You look like a fertile woman who, if she so chose, could have a child.
Me: ...[in my head] FERTILE?! [whining, out loud] But it's not me.
Her: It is you. You are a woman. Accept it. Stop insisting on being a girl-child.
Me: [rolls eyes] Fine. Yes ma'am.

Woman?! I'm not a woman! That makes me sound like I'm an adult, and I'm not one yet. I'm not a man, girl, boy , or anything. I'm a person! And I'm a person who would rather not be fertile.

But she had a point: I do sort of insist on being a "girl-child." Aside from getting laid, I don't really want my body to look reproductive. That's gross. When I think of what a "woman" is, I get mental images of...boring things that I usually don't like to do. So maybe I'm applying a limited definition to the idea and therefore excluding myself from the possibility of being a woman.

Like I feel weird when people at stores or restaurants call me "Ma'am." It's just standard procedure for them, but to me it feels like an inaccurate label (and it's weird when someone older then me says it to me).

Blah.

Note: From now on "Blah" shall be my new word denoting a contradictory combination of Zen detachment and sheer aggravation that I can't or do not wish to articulate.