Ichiena is from Mars AND Venus....

First off (I need to stop this habit of numbering everything I do and no, that was not the first thing, that was an aside)...first off, that title is very unoriginal. I admit irreverently ripping off of a book by Dave Barry. Any readers out there? This dude cracks me up - his books are just the thing to chase boredom any time any day, especially when you come across the line, "I am not making this up" when he soooo is! Hilarious stuff.

Now, back to the plot. The plot. I have been "writing" this post for 3/4 days so I have forgotten.

Oooh! Yes. Ichiena is from Mars AND Venus. This post was inspired by a comment from a blogger who wasn't sure what I am. And it got me thinking - am I more male or more female? You tell me:

Ichiena is from Mars: I have no feeling for shopping. OK you can stop chuckling. I have no feeling for shopping for clad and I am mostly in jeans and a T - I can go for months on end without buying any new attire; half my wardrobe is from pals (sending a message perhaps?). I own a complete set of tools (a claw hammer, screwdriver set, pliers, the works), I love fixing small stuff around the house. I havent cooked a decent meal since I dont know when. I usually air bolingolette - actually I dont like wearing clothes. I can shower and be out of the house in 15 minutes flat (fully clothed!). I have perfected the art of zoning out mid-conversation even if I grunt the occassional appropriate response. At one time I had 2 pairs of shoes.

Ichiena is from Venus: I have no care for sports, any sports unless walking and dancing fall within sports. I keep my nails feminine long and manicured. I own over 20 pairs of stockings/tights/leggings. I have boobs and my back is not hairy. I am a sucker for Harlequin/Romance novels - it's called "getting-some-via-osmosis". I can yap with the best of them, though I am not Nollywood status.

Other Useless Business (OUBs)
1. I was watching American Pie 4 (sucks) and heard this new word which I just had to Wikipedia. Let's just say interesting reading and do read with caution.

2. If you haven't watched Wild Hogs please make a point for a good laugh. The skinny dipping. LOL!

3. Thanks to White African, I have learn that...er...my exploits (sic!) are now in a computer game!

4. The joke for today:
A ship sank in high seas and the following people got stranded on a beautiful deserted island in the middle of nowhere:
A. 2 Italian men and 1 Italian woman
B. 2 French men and 1 French woman
C. 2 German men and 1 German woman
D. 2 Greek men and 1 Greek woman
E. 2 Polish men and 1 Polish woman
F. 2 Mexican men and 1 Mexican woman
G. 2 American men and 1 American woman
H. 2 Indian men and 1 Indian woman

What a Crazy coincidence! One month later, on various parts of the island, the following was observed:
A. One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.
B. The two French men and the French woman are living happily together.
C. The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of when they spend time with the German woman.
D. The two Greek men are happy together, and the Greek woman is cooking & cleaning for them.
E. The two Polish men took a long look at the endless ocean and a long look at the Polish woman, and they started swimming.
F. The two Mexican men are talking to all the other men on the island trying to sell them the Mexican woman.
G. The two American men are contemplating suicide. The American woman is bitching about her body being her own, the true nature of feminism, the equal division of the household chores, how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her much better, and how her relationship with her mother is improving.
H. What happened to the Indians????
The 2 Indian men are still waiting for someone to introduce them to the Indian woman

Finally, it's Mother's Day this weekend. Someone sent me this and it penetrated the layers and touched me somewhere. Happy Mum's Day to all Mum's out there, including ma gal MGN - congrats on the latest addition to the family. We will soon come cooing appropriately.

TO BE A MOTHER
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé; or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for child-care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that rest-room.

However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs..

I want her to know that a Caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God... that of being a Mother.