Do you ever think about what type of boy you’d be, if you had actually been born a boy? You know: how you’d dress, how you’d do your hair. I often do. Not in a Help-I’m-a-Man-in-a-Woman’s-Body-Get-Me-Outta-Here type way, let me just quickly add. It’s just one of those random no-reason musings most people probably don’t admit to (ha, just you start a blog and see what you let slip for the sake of daily content).

Anyway, last night I hit upon my answer while watching The Mentalist: I’d be Simon Baker. I mean, I’d like to think I’d be Simon Baker. You know how there are girls who are a girls’ girl and a boys’ girl at the same time? Simon’s the opposite: a boys’ boy and a girls’ boy. As in, everyone loves him. He’s cool and macho enough to garner cred with the guys, but so cute and dimply and swooshy-haired that no girl could possibly not melt at his feet.

That swooshy hair has got to be the clincher. I mean, when so many guys are firing up the straighteners these days (Zac, Keith, that’d be you), it’s just so refreshing to see a guy who looks like he has no more in his hair than sea salt - and from the sea, not a bottle, at that. Sexist maybe, but hot irons are just one of those girls-only things. And just another reason I’m thankful for being a girl. Without an inner boy trying to get out - I swear.

Bookmark to