SuzanneBender
12-14-2010, 11:20 PM
I am off to what Hemmingway called the, “Greatest adventure a man can ever experience”. Having been here and done that before I call it, “some adventure and a whole heap of tedium”. However, this time it is different. This time I am going into this having accepted many things about myself that I had spent a lifetime denying. In fact, that denial is probably one of the primary reasons that I set out in the wonderful career that has lead me on many adventures like this one.
The environment that I am living in is dripping with testosterone. I used to revel in this environment. It was the best way to prove to my biggest critic, me, that I was 100% grade A manly man. I took joy in male rituals that seem to bond a team of men going into dangerous environments. These rituals are often crude, crass, disgusting and, yes, even sometimes a little smelly. They are couched in an immature teenage humor that men never seem to outgrow and I have to admit still makes me giggle. Who can’t resist a a good fart joke?
We all have our lifelines that allow us to get through times like this. My main one is my wife and my children. I could never do what I do without their love and support. They are the source of my strength and motivation when things get tough. :love:
I also have smaller lifelines. I guess they are more like life preservers than a whole life line. They serve to provide little reminders of yourself while you are thousands of miles away from home. These reminders have taken a whole new twist as I have found acceptance with myself.
Needless to say, this is not the environment where you are going to get your girl on at least not in the way that many of us enjoy expressing ourselves. Situations like this teach you that it’s not always the dress that makes the woman. A nice dress and a cute pair of shoes never hurt, but when one marches off to war the little things do become special.
I groomed my brows the other night. It was the first time I have been excited about waxing and plucking in years. I shave my legs almost everyday not so much for the feeling or fighting the stubble, but more for just an activity to embrace. The other night walking back from the gym I stopped walking with a “mission” and took on the gate of a stroll. My shadow in the half light of a building looked like I felt as the breeze blew across my face and I pulled down my fleece watch cap. It was a perfect moment of being. Not necessarily femme, but just me. My music drives my fellow warriors crazy. I think I am the only “dude” here with Lady Gaga, Imogen Heap, Sara McLachlin, and Melissa Ethridge on the Ipod. Combine that with the fact that my Itunes also contains movie titles like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Sabrina, the Notebook, Sex and the City, Mama Mia and not many of the guys are asking to copy my entertainment library.
My bags and boxes are full of little items that are the equivalent of femme huggie blankies. I have a “red” floor lamp that to my surprise wonderfully looks more pink then “red”. My makeup mirror is a necessity given the poor lighting in my room and a joy to sit in front of. I have enough facial products to last the whole year. 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets to snuggle up in bed with and all of this is just the start. To others my space may be a room in a rocket and mortar proof barracks but to me it is my boudoir. I have always been taught that you improve your position when you are there for any amount of time. In true form that is what I plan on doing, but I will do it with exceptional taste. Except for the pink lamp that is more symbolic than tasteful. I think when I return I will pitch a show to HGTV. Some possible names will be “Design on a mine” or “This Old Bunker”. How about “Project Jet Runway”?
Stay tuned I am sure their will be numerous updates concerning my adventures in Machoville.
The environment that I am living in is dripping with testosterone. I used to revel in this environment. It was the best way to prove to my biggest critic, me, that I was 100% grade A manly man. I took joy in male rituals that seem to bond a team of men going into dangerous environments. These rituals are often crude, crass, disgusting and, yes, even sometimes a little smelly. They are couched in an immature teenage humor that men never seem to outgrow and I have to admit still makes me giggle. Who can’t resist a a good fart joke?
We all have our lifelines that allow us to get through times like this. My main one is my wife and my children. I could never do what I do without their love and support. They are the source of my strength and motivation when things get tough. :love:
I also have smaller lifelines. I guess they are more like life preservers than a whole life line. They serve to provide little reminders of yourself while you are thousands of miles away from home. These reminders have taken a whole new twist as I have found acceptance with myself.
Needless to say, this is not the environment where you are going to get your girl on at least not in the way that many of us enjoy expressing ourselves. Situations like this teach you that it’s not always the dress that makes the woman. A nice dress and a cute pair of shoes never hurt, but when one marches off to war the little things do become special.
I groomed my brows the other night. It was the first time I have been excited about waxing and plucking in years. I shave my legs almost everyday not so much for the feeling or fighting the stubble, but more for just an activity to embrace. The other night walking back from the gym I stopped walking with a “mission” and took on the gate of a stroll. My shadow in the half light of a building looked like I felt as the breeze blew across my face and I pulled down my fleece watch cap. It was a perfect moment of being. Not necessarily femme, but just me. My music drives my fellow warriors crazy. I think I am the only “dude” here with Lady Gaga, Imogen Heap, Sara McLachlin, and Melissa Ethridge on the Ipod. Combine that with the fact that my Itunes also contains movie titles like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Sabrina, the Notebook, Sex and the City, Mama Mia and not many of the guys are asking to copy my entertainment library.
My bags and boxes are full of little items that are the equivalent of femme huggie blankies. I have a “red” floor lamp that to my surprise wonderfully looks more pink then “red”. My makeup mirror is a necessity given the poor lighting in my room and a joy to sit in front of. I have enough facial products to last the whole year. 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets to snuggle up in bed with and all of this is just the start. To others my space may be a room in a rocket and mortar proof barracks but to me it is my boudoir. I have always been taught that you improve your position when you are there for any amount of time. In true form that is what I plan on doing, but I will do it with exceptional taste. Except for the pink lamp that is more symbolic than tasteful. I think when I return I will pitch a show to HGTV. Some possible names will be “Design on a mine” or “This Old Bunker”. How about “Project Jet Runway”?
Stay tuned I am sure their will be numerous updates concerning my adventures in Machoville.