A Boy's Girl

I have always been a boy's girl. I am the one boy's trusted with their tree house, I was the betty at the skate park, one of the first snowboarders with a pony tail. In high school my best friend was a boy, we talked about everything, just like in the movies. I eventually married one of his college friends, overall my life spent in the boy department was good to me.

Now I am 38 years old, and meeting boys is not what it used to be. In fact, I just can't do it. Ever since the movie Little Children came out, I have steered clear of any male standing alone, with or without kids. I mean who are we fooling, men are off limits for friendships, and it is sad. And it is HARD for people like me. I stand in a mud puddle at the school events, hair all wrong, clothes from Marshall's, makeup if worn is leftover from my bachelorette party in 2003. I have no idea what I am doing, it is like being fed to wild animals over and over again.

There is just no way I am going to spruce up and join the party, it would have happened by now. Plus, I am convinced people would see right through a makeover when I opened my mouth. In fact, the very thought of sprucing up brings me back to days of sitting on the toilet seat surrounded by my three sisters attempting to "fix" me. The tugging at my hair, the waxy feeling on my face, the strange looking outcome in the mirror, I still shudder at the thought. I found ways to use cover-up on my age spots, sometimes I remember to do that. I pluck some chin hairs, I am blessed with a naturally good complexion, and my hair can range from anything to nothing, currently it is residing at nothing. My daughter wants me to grow it long so that I will be more beautiful, so I am trying to prove to her that it is less beautiful long, but so far she isn't seeing my point. Anyway, how does this tie into boys? Well, the boys I know, knew, love, and loved, never seemed to give a crap about makeup, hairdos, high heels, wax jobs, girl talk. And neither did I, and we all got along great. My husband loves me, I love him. Last time I put on make up he asked me if I was going to a Goth party. I started bawling.

So how does a grown up guy's girl find girl friends in the Connecticut suburbs? Should I pull out the combat boots?