Are All Women Bipolar, or Is It Just Me?

Because I am a teacher and because it is summer, I seem to have a lot of time on my hands. Today, I decided to do something for someone else. I took on the task of cleaning my boyfriend's bathroom. This bathroom of his had become something out of a guy's college apartment - quite atrocious! In fact, the other day when I decided to take a shower over there, I wore flip-flops! So, being the good girlfriend, I stocked up the supplies (Soft Scrub, scrub brush, rags, Clorox toilet cleaner). When he left for work, I got busy. I began with the shower. Ugh, it was terrible. I probably should have worn gloves. An hour and a half later, I stepped back and admired my sparkling, clean work. I continued onto the toilet, which emitted a smell all its own. The vanity and mirror were also attacked on this Soft Scrub rampage. Finally, I got down, Cinderella-style, and began scrubbing the floor. Four hours later, Ryan's bathroom shone, smelled great, and had fresh towels adorning the walls. It is now probably cleaner than when he moved into the place. I was pretty proud of myself, and I was dying to see his reaction.

He came home. That's it. He came home. He was, of course, happy. But, he didn't even spend time to admire it. Four hours of work earned a glance and a pat on the back. He immediately began getting ready for the gym. This is about the time something clicked in my brain and I instantly became pouty. I wanted . . . I don't know. . . I wanted him to love on me for a little while. I wanted him to spend just a few minutes with me. I wanted him to be excited about his bathroom. I wanted something. I don't know what happened. I turned into one of "those" girlfriends. I said I was leaving, without giving an explanation.

After 2 miles of sweating, I began to go back to being me. It took the whole 2 miles to come to grips with what I had just done. I got mad because I didn't get the attention and time that I thought I deserved. Why couldn't I have just told him that? Why couldn't I have just asked him to sit down and relax for a minute? Why couldn't I just be humble, for Pete's sake? Instead, I shut down. The thing that made me blow was when Ryan said that I had gone from being so excited that he was home to being super sad and that I was being "bipolar". The run helped, but why did I have to get to that point? He was right, wasn't he? I was being bipolar - the high highs, and the low lows.

I've seen girlfriends do this time and time again. Are we all hard wired to be snappy and moody with our significant others? If so, how do we stop? Or, is it just me?

Catching the Bouquet

My best friend got married a few weeks ago. I would have never expected her to be first. I mean, I am not trying to be selfish, but Marie just didn't seem like she was ready. Then out of the blue, this great guy walks into her life and sweeps her off her feet. The wedding was like some fairy tale - absolutely gorgeous! It was everything that I would want at my wedding. The bride made everyone there look mediocre. The radiance exuding off of her bounced from wall to wall. Secretly, I dreamed of my day. . .

Halfway through the night, it was time for the traditional "throwing of the bouquet". Apparently in more ancient times, it was considered good luck to get a piece of the wedding gown from the bride. Women would tear at the bride's dress as her and the groom left. In order to save their dresses, brides began tossing their bouquet back at the savage women tearing at her dress. The woman who caught the bouquet would be deemed with the good fortune of being the next to be married. Now that we have become more orderly (I guess), the bride now stands in front of a group of not-so-patient single women to toss her bouquet. No more tearing at a thousand-dollar dress - thank God! So, I stood awaiting the tossing of this good fortune, when the brightly colored pink and orange bundle landed right in my hands. It was fate! However, I was thinking more along the lines of, "Oh, cool. That was cute." I didn't begin planning a wedding.


A few minutes later, another tradition was played out - the tossing of the garter. Marie's new husband slide the garter off of her leg and shot it, rubber band style, to a group of not-so-eager men. In the middle of the group stood the man of my life. As the garter flew over heads, it seemed like I could feel the room take in a breath as the garter went straight for Ryan. Even if he didn't want to catch it, it would have landed on his head.


Now, this has to be fate, right? We both caught the item that says, "You're next!" But, what if we aren't ready? Can we stop the stars from aligning? Can we stop fate? We've been together for 2 years, but marriage isn't exactly on our horizon. We have a lot to accomplish prior to marriage. It all sounds romantic, and I definitely would spend the rest of my life with Ryan; however, I think I like the sound of a diamond on my finger and the ring of "my fiance" in my ears more than I like the idea of actually getting married. Is that bad?


So, to the gods out there, to the aligning stars of our fate, could please press pause? I know we are next, and out of all of the other non-married couples at the wedding, we probably were the best bet on the next marriage, but it may be a while.