I am such a girl

I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’m not like most girls. I love baseball. I hate Julia Roberts movies. And when it comes to raunchy jokes, I can usually top even the grossest guys. But being un-girly has its downside too. My whole life I’ve had trouble making female friends. Growing up, my only memory playing with Barbie dolls involves using one to give my best friend her first bloody nose. And when it comes to fashion, hair and make-up, I’m totally clueless.

So it came as a bit of a surprise last night when I bawled after finishing the book “The Time Traveler’s Wife.” And I don’t mean just shed a few tears. I. Totally. Bawled. Chris held me while I sobbed on his shoulder. The book isn’t even that sad. It’s a love story, and more than anything I was crying because it was so beautiful.

Then this morning, while sitting at my desk trying to concentrate on work, I couldn’t stop thinking about my sister who’s due with her first baby next week. I kept daydreaming about what he or she might look like, holding him or her for the first time … and then came the waterworks. I grabbed tissue and pretended to cough and have allergies so no one would think I was one of those girls who cries all the time. You know, the ones that fan at their faces with their hands while trying to hold back tears (what’s up with that?).

So, I guess I’m a girly girl after all. Well, sort of. I don’t foresee any Nicholas Sparks novels or Kelly Clarkson CDs in my immediate future. But what the hell, I love the Indigo Girls and I’ve seen Steel Magnolias more than once. But that’s only because I can’t stop laughing when Julia Roberts goes into diabetic shock. What, you thought I was going to say I cried at the end? Oh please. Barf.