Male vs Female

So I have this very clear idea of what I want this post to be about, in fact, I've been mulling over the subject quite a bit these past few days. Haha, wow, I just built that up like I'm going to be announcing that I'll be moving to the middle of butt crack Egypt. You'll be surprised at how surprisingly unimportant the topic actually is. ;) Before we get to that, though, I just have to complain about something that is just driving me bonkers right now. Before this month I had gone a good six years without getting a SINGLE mosquito bite. Not a single one. In SIX years! Now, though, it's like my body has turned into mosquito central. It's like I'm wearing a sign on my head that says "Bite me. I'm juicy, and delicious". In the past two weeks I've gotten not one, not two, but SEVEN mosquito bites!! They've all been one right after another too! The first two were on my leg, the next one was on my butt (not even joking), then I got two right after that on my left arm and one on my back, AND now that the ones on my arms finally cleared up I got one on the back of my right leg. UGHHHH. I just want to scratch myself in peace!! I'm beginning to think that maybe there is a mosquito secretly residing in my leggings, because every time I've gotten a bite on my legs I've been wearing these leggings. I'm SO sick of being itchy. The bug bite on my butt did teach me one thing, though. I have INCREDIBLE self control. I mean, to not scratch my butt even, though, the stupid mosquito bite was ridiculously itchy shows some pretty incredible self restraint if ya ask me. I think it's also a testament to how lady like I am that I'd rather suffer through ridiculous amounts of itchiness than scratch my butt. Then, of course, I had to go and ruin all that lady likeness by sharing this fact very publicly with you all. ;) Oh, and one last side story before we get to the real topic. The little peak of black that you see there poking out just above my gray cami, isn't just another black cami like you might assume. It is actually the first new sports bra that I have purchased for myself in YEARS. Actually it's the first sports bra I have EVER purchased for myself. Up until now, I'd been surviving on a sports bra my mom had gotten for me when I was twelve and the two pairs she had bought me back when I first got addicted to running when I was 18. I mean, I just figured that since the one from when I was twelve still fit and the two fancy ones my mom had given me 3 years ago weren't completely falling apart they'd do the job of keeping everything nice and compact just fine. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I went on a shopping trip with my mom to an Addidas outlet and I spotted this little sucker on the sale rack. I figured, what the hay, might as well buy a new one of these things and see how it goes. Best decision ever. I've been completely missing out these past bazillion years without a new sports bra. Running with this little sucker is like sheer bliss. It's so awesome in fact, that sometimes I don't take it off after I run and end up wearing it as my everyday bra like I did today. I swear this bra is even magical. It keeps my boobage looking nice and flat from the side (I actually quite like having a small chest), and yet from the front it gives the illusion that I have juicy, juicy mangoes rather than the wee little mosquito bites that I actually have for boobage. I mean, just look at the picture above. Look at it. BAM! Victoria's Secret model status. Now, on to the real topic at hand, the fact that we all have occasional glaring gaps in knowledge. Ya know, those things that are really obvious but we somehow never learned. My glaring gap? The definition of male and female.

{H&M: military jacket similar, leggings, boots similar, layered charm necklace similar; F21: plaid shirt similar; Aldo's: faux leather tote}

I didn't learn what the difference between male and female was until I was about ten or eleven. I mean, I knew that one was a boy and one was a girl but I didn't know which was which. I'd always get the two confused. I would think that male meant girl and female meant boy. Everyday of school starting from second grade all the way till the fifth grade I would wonder how in the heck the rest of class knew how to answer male/female questions and how in the bloody heck they knew the difference. I'd always think to myself, "I've been going to school with these kids for the past FOUR years!! How do they know this? How do I not know this? I haven't missed a SINGLE day of school!" Then of course, I eventually realized that the reason I didn't know the difference and the other kids did was the reason for most of my glaring gaps in knowledge up to that point: I'm foreign and English is my second language. While they had learned English from their parents, I had learned English from 90's alternative rock and Disney movies. I mean, Cruella De Vil wasn't going around talking about how male means boy and female means girl, and The Cranberries (one of my favorite bands when I was four and first learning English) certainly weren't singing "a male is a boy, and a female is a girl lalala, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE". Only a Cranberries fan would get why I added the zombies into that last sentence. Well, anyways, that's it for ya. I have a few more gaps in knowledge but I'm kinda tired of typing now and I want to get started on watching the new season of New Girl and The Mindy Project. Yay TV! Oh, one last thing, though. The inspiration for this post came from the place where almost all of my post inspiration comes from, How I Met Your Mother. There's a whole episode centered around the characters gaps in knowledge, among which are not being able to wink (I can't do this either, actually), not believing that the North Pole is an actual place, and pronouncing chameleon cha(as in cha cha)-me-león instead of ka-mi-lion. I highly recommend watching the episode. Seriously. Season 6, episode 19. Netflix. Watch it. And laugh. If you watch it and don't think it's funny then I'm pretty sure you're a humorless poppycock. ;)

Much Love!

Linking up with: Because Shanna Said So, The Pleated Poppy