Men just don’t get it. They can’t help it. They are different. They are men, well, not really. Men, (I have noticed lately) are all still little boys. I think that they stop at about 12 or 13. However, at about 12 or 13 they are starting to notice girls too. So they might go in a group to a girl’s house. Sometimes out of the blue they just show up at the front door after school or on a Saturday for a chat. Now this is where boys and girls are very different. Boys and Men don’t have a clue about women as far as, just showing up, is concerned. Girls and women change at around 12 or 13 and we require notice before meeting a boy or man for a chat. We need to be at our best. This usually doesn’t change for women from the age of about 12 until death. To look our best we have to have newly washed shiny hair and it has to be curled or set and brushed into a hairstyle of some sort. If we are 12 we probably just need a touch of lip gloss on our lips and a nice new clean outfit to wear that will give a nice impression.
The whole idea of this post is to explain to men that we woman need time to fix ourselves to be our best before presenting ourselves to men and or to company in general. It is my duty to show men that we of the female gender are, in fact, different. This is not a popular idea in modern times. Young people like to believe that we are all the same. I believe as this younger generation matures they will, possibly begrudgingly, realize that there are still some real differences between the male and female sexes.
I live in a high-rise building. Our mailboxes are in a room off of the lobby. When I leave my apartment to go to the elevator and down to the lobby. I don’t leave my apartment unless I have brushed my hair, put on a clean presentable outfit and I usually have a bit of makeup applied to my face such as some lip gloss, a bit of blush and some mascara. I have earrings in my ears and a spray or two of some sort of fragrance. You never know who you might run in to when riding the elevator or getting your mail. (I can hear my mother’s voice, from the past, in my mind.) Now, most women understand this. Most men will saunter out of the door of their apartment in their slippers or flip flops, with disheveled hair, in old jeans and a dirty t-shirt. “Why get dressed up to get the mail?” they think to themselves.
Working from my apartment, 99.9% of my work revolves around using my computer and my phone. My business requires me to be up in the morning and I work until about 3 P.M. or 4PM. Therefore, I usually take my shower in the afternoon before dinner. During the day I am up and dressed but usually with my hair in a ponytail, working in yoga pants and a t-shirt while, working on my computer and or my writing. I do not look my best.
Lately my men friends have discovered Face Time on their phones. Let me tell you, my girlfriends and my family members, don’t now, nor have they, or we, ever used Face Time when calling each other. We know better. I look my worst in the morning sitting at my computer with my coffee cup and a cookie. I hate FACETIME. Okay, true, if I had grandchildren I would probably love it but I don’t have any grandchildren. If I ever do have any grandchildren I will probably be so old and wrinkled and decrepit that seeing my face on Face Time might scare the daylights out of the little tykes.
So, yesterday one of my man friends called me on Face Time to probably innocently to show me the scenery and the view from his deck. I had just stepped out of the shower and I had a towel on my head. I was sitting on my bed in my all together (so to speak) I literally almost answered the phone which would have been a shock for the both of us. I didn’t answer the call and I called him back (not on Face Time) explaining my present situation. We spoke for a minute or two and hung up … he gave me five minutes and he called me again on Face Time. I didn’t answer. So I sent him a text. I said, “My hair is still wet.” He sent me a text calling me a coward. Yes, I am a coward. Listen, at 25 girls can look pretty cute in a towel with wet hair. At 67 it is a different story. I dried my hair and set it. I put on cream and then some makeup and earrings I put on a sweater. Yes, I even brushed my teeth and sprayed a little perfume on my hair. I know you can’t smell on Face Time but I wasn’t taking any chances. I called him back. It is the first time we have seen each other outside of still photos. I’m not 27 anymore. I’m 67.
Thank heaven I have reached this grand old age. Life is good and it is bad but it is a privilege to be alive. It’s good to be honest and it is good to show the world the real me. Yesterday, after our conversation I took a selfie, fully clothed, I might add. I sent my selfie to my friend. He sent me one too. Today I put yesterday’s selfie on my Facebook page. It is about time that I show the world the real me at 67 and counting. Now, men, please take this advice from me, to you. If you are inclined to call any of your lady friends on Face Time, text them first and give them some time to get ready. It takes a bit longer after 60 so have some patience with us. Guys don’t care as much … we do. So now I have displayed a picture of myself, how I looked 24 hours ago. It is a photo, good or bad, but it is a photo of my face at 67 years old and it is a photo of, the real me.
Until Next Week…
Is There Sex After 60? (Navigating Single Life After 60) 