Funeral March: Ode to Chivalry

Not that I'm not an independent woman or anything, but I would love to have someone of the male species to open the spaghetti sauce jar, change the light bulb, slap my booty as I walk by, and to pump my frapping gas. It's not like I'm asking for the answer to world peace, cure for cancer, or for vanilla ice cream with four Oreos, served in a large glass bowl, to have zero calories!!! 

So I'm at the gas station pumping gas.  I give the lady (hereinafter referred to as "Gas Pump #3 Lady") at the next pump the obligatory smile and I'm sure we are both wishing we had someone else to pump our freaking gas.  So yeah, me and Gas Pump #3 Lady had a moment....or so I thought. So I look over at her car and see one male species in the front passenger seat...he's about 30 years old. I also see another male species, about 14 years old in the backseat. Now, I'm not the one to assume (stop the eye-rolling), but they looked pretty darned healthy to me and completely capable of pumping gas. Apparently the song on the radio was much more important to them than Chivalry. Then, to make my jaw drop even further to the ground, a little girl, around 10 years old, walks out of the store and gets into Gas Pump #3 Lady's car. Let's recap: 

1. Gas Pump #3 Lady - pumping gas. 
2. Gas Pump #3 Lady's daughter - paying for the gas. 
3. Gas Pump #3 Lady's husband and son - sitting on their ass.

Where's Chivalry? Did he remain in the 40's with Humphrey Bogart? Did he get lost in the 50's sitcoms? Or maybe Chivalry breathed his last breathe during a storefront bomb in the 60's? Chivalry possibly smoked too much marijuana in the 70's, got the munchies for sweets, and died from a diabetic coma. Or maybe Chivalry broke his neck while re-enacting scenes from the movie Breakin' in the 80's. My thought is that Chivalry is still stuck in the 90's under Bill Clinton's desk (ooooh, low blow..so low) because he sure didn't make it into the 21st century. I further believe that men dug a grave for him, performed the funeral march, and buried him quietly in the woods while all the women were trying to shatter glass ceilings. I demand to have Chivalry's body exhumed because:

1. Running warm water over the lid of the spaghetti jar and hitting it twice on the bottom never works! 
2. Changing the light bulb is never fun if you constantly fall out of the chair while doing so.
3. Slapping my own booty is just pitiful...I mean, really pitiful!
4.  I HATE HAVING THE SMELL OF GAS ON MY HANDS!
   

 Woo-sa!

*Hey, a girl can hope, can't she?*

I was truly inspired today. Who would have "thunk" it -- that crazy gal could inspire me to blog about something other than my photography. If you need my claim of her sheer insanity validated, follow her here.

I am not entirely sure where this blogging journey will lead me, but I sure do plan to have fun getting there.

Maybe this wonderful, beautiful, tastes-great/less-filling blog will do the following:

1. Evoke smiley, happy feelings
2. Provide a platform to sell my children. Wait that's this blog.
3. Stop me from watching mindless television, namely Real Housewives of Atlanta. *wait a sec...scratch that one*
4.  Enable me to put down my can of coke for more than five seconds
5. Reassure me of the fact that, "I am woman, hear me roar"...well at least hear me "meow"
6. Wave a magic wand over the scale and give me back my girlish figure *hey, a girl can hope, can't she?*
7. Make me invisible to the children referenced in point #2
8. *Head is beginning to hurt from trying to think of another item to add to the list*
   

Peace, love, and dread wax!