Fooling Yourself

Pleasing both male and female tastes can be next to impossible in many homes.

Shows, people. Movies. TV. Honestly.

One of the top rated shows in the U.S. right now for chicks is one that might cause me to actually go cook, for the entire hour, something slimy and disgusting that smells awful, rather than suffer through this tacky show. Come to think of it: isn’t watching this show kinda the same thing?

Dancing With The Stars No One Has Heard Of Except For Dubious Reasons and The Hustler (sorry, my bad: The Bachelor) are shows no sane person should have to sit through.

Sorry, ladies, but I’m with the guys on this one.


My sisters…what are you thinking? I’d rather sit through repeats of oh, heck…Hawaii 5-0 than watch that dreckitude.


Hold up, though. Let’s discuss that um, classic show for a sec, boys. How many times must you watch The Chin say “Book him, Danno?” It’s the same formulaic program: nice shots of Honolulu, a murder or robbery, some fancy running in tight pants, a car chase, a pretty girl in alarmingly scary blue eye shadow...and cut to shootout. Oh, and don’t forget the real star of the show: Jack Lord’s Hair.


Then there’s the Dirty Harry fascination. I get it. Young Clint (heck, even Middle-Aged Clint) was eye candy for us girls too, ya know. But, seriously. You’ve seen the movies at least twenty-five 125 times since you were a kid—you can pass by it this one time on a Sunday afternoon. You’ll live.

Come on guys—make our day.


And save the trivia: yes, we know Eastwood sang in Paint Your Wagon. (Trust me: he shouldn’t have.) Besides, it kinda spoils the whole fantasy aspect for us…I mean, if we’re being forced to watch young Clint and all… well, let’s just say it’s better that his mouth isn’t singing--if you know what I mean.


Oh, I’m sorry, guys--Clint may have lost a little of his appeal for you now that I put it that way. Oops.


Chicks want foreign films with subtitles; the only subtitles you agree to are Klingon. Chicks want well-written humor that makes us think and laugh; guys want slapstick Homer Simpson “Doh!” to laugh hysterically at hits to the nuts. Chicks want to discuss the show afterward in great detail; you just want some real food, dammit.


Is there a middle ground?


Sure. I’ll watch a great sci-fi: Star Wars, The Fifth Element, The Matrix (the first one only--please). My love of BladeRunner knows no bounds. Han Solo alone makes it worth my while, baby; though honestly everything about this movie is sexy: clothing, production, Vangelis' gorgeous music, stylized violence, makeup; but the dialogue…oh my (okay, the Church of Baseball was another great one, and you can’t go wrong mixing sports and naked people with Susan Sarandon’s breasts…but I digress).


Deckard's spare dialogue: great. Gaff's final line: "It's too bad she won't live! But then again...who does?" full of philosophical meaning--fabulous. But Rutger Hauer’s replicant Roy Batty’s final words: “All those … moments will be lost in time, like tears… in rain. Time…to die,” reaches another level, beyond a good flick; it grabs through to your insides and touches your soul.

I hope to write words like that one day. Sigh.


Mindbottling. (Oh wait, Blades of Glory…sorry.)


Is there a way to find shows that will satisfy both of our unique desires? Some say technology brings us closer as a unit…but does it? Netflix and iTunes offers us ever more options to watch—and fight over. Just cause it’s November does not mean I want to watch Dreck the Halls, Christmas With The Stupids,  or anything resembling a man named Chevy and Vacation. Again. #ohgod #ithurts

As I stated in my original Mancode #1 post, Men are from Seinfeld, Women are from Friends, I remain unsure if the guys are better off just watching old reruns of Seinfeld, as they always do (everyday, 7pm), and we gals should just stick to Friends. Our men may love us (and annoy us, watching endless reruns of Seinfeld), but man, those Friends…could they BE any more there for us?


And okay, enough with that song already!

Ah, screw it. Let's just turn on some music* and rock out.


*"Relax. Music," are the first words to the Styx song Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man).







What’s your ONE go to movie or show that satisfies both male and female interests in your home? Please share below. Limit one, please. (Giving in to please your mate in hopes of sex later doesn’t count.)




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Man of The, er, House

Man of the House.


Most men enjoy that title.


They work hard for it and we as a society still tend to raise our little boys to grow up into those big shoes, despite huge leaps in equality for women. I'm raising both a girl and a boy so I see it every day, all around me.


So what happens when the man puts his foot down and no one listens?


Welcome to my home.


My husband and I make most of our major decisions together, but we’re not perfect. Sometimes he’s bossy and if I don’t agree with him, he gets a little touchy. I, in turn, get really quiet if he doesn’t agree with me. We both need a little time til we’re ready to talk it out.


I’m not a yeller and I rarely raise my voice. But I can be a bitch…more of a stealth bitch, if you will. (If being an independent woman with an opinion who wants her way is being a bitch, then hell yea, that’s me. Deal with it.)


As a woman, I’ve come to understand that men need to assert themselves in a much louder way than women do. Is it a testosterone or territorial thing? Well, it does make a woman wonder: if men could pee on a conversation, would they? Hmmmm....


My husband has a very assertive style of communicating. That’s not to say he’s a yeller or violent; he’s neither. He’s sweet and generous. He just speaks very loudly and is quick to interrupt to have his voice heard. (Classic Mancode behavior, page 102). And of course, it’s his way or the highway.


Til it’s my way.


When we first met and started having long, romantic talks, he would cut me off. Why did he interrupt me so much? I thought he was being rude. Why was he telling me what I “should have done?” What, did he think I was stupid?


My husband, to this day, says no, he’s simply embellishing the story. When I take a breath, he sees that as an opportunity to launch. He calls that a discussion. I call it cutting me off. (We still can’t agree on this and it’s been eighteen years.)


What happened to the art of listening?


Bear with me here but that’s where the difference lies, I believe, between a man who has to be the man of the house and one who takes into account the needs of those around him.


Men look at the big picture, baby. Women focus on the details.


In other words, I listen. Then I put my foot down.


I wouldn’t say marriage is a game. But I definitely have had to learn that while my husband may roar like a lion, I know I’ll have to hear him out, build my case, present my evidence, and then change his mind.

To what should have been done in the first place.


Because even though the “man of the house” cultural norm hasn’t died yet, men still haven’t figured out that we chicks are the decision-makers of the house.


But we know, girls, don’t we?


We know.


(Unless there’s a big spider. Cause then I kinda don’t want to know. And he can stomp his big ole foot down all he wants...)





RachelintheOC would love to hear your thoughts on this topic. Please share your comments below. Retweets loved.

And a special thanks to my Twitter peeps for their gracious sharing this past Sunday--your thoughts and comments in response to my marriage research question were more than I could have hoped for. #youknowwhoyouare #yousorock

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