♪ Men, men, men, men. Manly men, men, men. ♫

I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around women. I live with two men, and right now we’ve got two more for the weekend. The roommate had a couple of friends fly in Thursday, and it’s been a testosterone fest in the house ever since. Football, video games, manly movies, and lots of drinking. I’ve always gotten along a little bit better with guys than with girls, and I like to think I can hold my own with a lot of “manly” activities. These two seem like great guys who I’d like to hang out with, but they’ve secluded themselves in the roommate’s room, their own little man cave, for now. The husband has been at work pretty much the whole time they’ve been here, so I’ve been awkwardly trying to include myself when an opportunity presents itself. It’s great when we all get to talking, but then they retreat for hours on end back into the cave.

When they do go out, I’m definitely not invited. If I were a guy I wouldn’t want some chick, especially a married one, tagging along during my bro time. I certainly didn’t expect to get included and I would have politely declined if they had invited me, but still. The offer would have been nice because I’ve been a very hospitable hostess! The roommate certainly didn’t do anything to prepare for them. I cleaned the whole house (Except for his nasty, nasty bathroom! Seriously, I had a nightmare about that shower last week), set up places for them to sleep and have tried to make them feel welcome!

I wish I could be a guy just for one day, so that maybe I could try to understand just what the hell is going through their heads. Men and women supposedly think very differently and are on completely different wavelengths, and I’d like a clue-in as to how their brains work every now and then. Sometimes the husband and I will have the most confusing conversations and we find out that we’re talking about completely different things. Sometimes I’ll bring up things we’ve discussed many times before, and he’ll act as if it’s the first he’s hearing of it. That drives me crazy. What is it about being a man than makes them so… so… I can’t even think of a word to describe what I’m thinking right now. Is it a penis thing? Cause I don’t think that’s an excuse. On a side note, I would totally play with myself if I were a man for a day.

I’ve seriously got to get some female friends here. I miss my girls' nights out and sitting up til 2am talking about… well, of course, what else but men.