Can I Borrow That Stick? You Know, The One That's UP YOUR ASS.
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Rants
You want to know how to tell everything you need to know about a girl? Look at her face in repose, when she's off her guard. Check out her natural facial expression when she is neither interacting with someone nor conscious of being watched, and that's when you'll see the real story of what goes on inside. A girl can and will turn on the smile and the charm, but sneak a look at her when she doesn't know you're looking. That's when you can see who she is.

Today I came home from work early, toward noon, and along the way ended up stopping off at the neighborhood health food supermarket to pick up something nutritious for lunch. You know, on account of the fetus. The place was pretty crowded, which surprised me; it isn't often I rub elbows with the housewife crowd, what with the career thing and all. Must be more than two years now, since maternity leave with Matt. And I couldn't believe my eyes.

With very few exceptions, these broads were the biggest bunch of sourpusses I ever saw in my life. Most of them didn't just look neutral or expressionless -- they looked actively pissed off. I couldn't divine any reason or excuse for it. It wasn't like I was in a Newport Beachy section of Newport Beach, or like they were some incredibly beautiful MAW types (MAW = So Cal shorthand for model, actress, whatever) and therefore had some excuse, however ill-founded, to come off snooty and repulsed by the denizens of Mother's Market. They just looked like regular housewives, except that none of them had any kids in evidence -- and they wore these horribly disgusted, pissed-off looks on their faces, like someone had given them a Dirty Sanchez on the sneak and they constantly smelled shit as a result.

For the life of me I can't fathom it. LADIES: WHAT HAVE Y'ALL GOT TO BE SO PISSED OFF ABOUT? LOOKS TO ME LIKE YOU DON'T GO TO WORK, BUT SINCE YOU ARE OUT SHOPPING, PRESUMABLY YOU ARE DOING IT WITH MONEY SOMEONE ELSE IS EARNING AND WILLING TO SHARE WITH YOU. IT'S A BEAUTIFUL WARM DAY, THERE IS INTERESTING MUSIC, THERE ARE COOL THINGS TO EAT, AND YOU'RE NOT IN SOME HIGH-RISE BUILDING DEALING WITH A BUNCH OF LITIGIOUS ASSHOLES. WHAT THE HELL IS SO BAD ABOUT THAT?

Most of them are terribly rude, too. (Don't you ladies watch Martha Stewart, when she's not actually incarcerated, I mean? Doesn't Oprah occasionally have Emily Post or Miss Manners or whoever?) They don't respond to niceties like Excuse me or Have a good one or Could I just squeeze through real quick? Not a nod, not a faint smile. Not even a Fuck you to death, which would at least be interesting. Just the stony stare. What is up with these chicks?

Here I was walking around happily pregnant, humming and having to smile from time to time at a thought or a song on the radio or a friendly dog walking by. Didn't people used to smile at pregnant women? Not any more. They don't treat us with any common courtesy anymore, either. Always with the sour puss firmly in place, these broads will instead shove past me or bump me with their shopping carts if I move too slowly or if my big belly is blocking the soy cheese. What's that about? A Newport Beach thing, a housewife thing, or just a matter of some women being basically miserable people?

You have to feel for their husbands. You know they will never make these girls happy; people who walk around looking so grim and disgusted with the world in general will never be happy, even if you hand them all the spa weekends and black SUVs and tennis bracelets on earth. Even during sex -- maybe especially then -- chicks like that will still wear that wrinkled-nosed What's that smell? face. In fact, today I may have witnessed the beginnings of one of those blessed unions right there in the store. I was taking down some kimchee when a well-dressed couple walked by, and I heard the guy ask his date Do you like kimchee? And she, in a tone dripping with ice and revulsion, replied Neau. I deaun't. As Ben would say, Danger, Will Robinson! If she sounds that pissed off and disgusted in the early dating, imagine how she'll sound after two years of marriage. Poor guy. I shuddered and moved on to the next aisle, but his nightmare is just beginning.

One of the first lessons Ben and I are going to teach our sons, when they get old enough to tangle in any meaningful way with the fairer sex, is how to spot a basically happy girl and how to avoid a basically miserable one. A happy girl, since it comes from within, won't depend on you to make her smile, although she will laugh with you whenever possible. A miserable one will always be miserable no matter what you do, and will eventually drag you down there with her, given enough time. Sam and Matt: I'll teach you to tell the difference, and the girl who tries to make one of you miserable? I'll teach her the real meaning of misery.