They call me Mellow Yellow...

I'll admit it. Sometimes I'm jealous of men. When I see them running outside on a 85 degree day without a shirt, when I watch my husband get out of bed, rub some gel in his hair, splash some water on his face, and fly out the door in 10 minutes flat, and when I'm wearing three inch heels to a wedding and have to gimp my way home/to the hotel at 2am.

Life is about appreciating the little things, they say. It's those "little things" that make us happy, and in my opinion, it can also be those "little things" that ruin our day. How else do you think the recent "FML" (F my life) phrase crept into our everyday vocabulary? Little things, I tell you, little.annoying.tedious.ironic.cliche things.

Take being the victim of a "cat call" while on your way to work in the morning. Harmless you say? Complimentary even? Try getting one every day, when you're having a bad day, or when you're wearing a neon yellow dress. Okay, so you might say I'm asking for it by wearing something so bright, so attention grabbing. Yet, I see various forms of the male species wearing outlandish things every.single.day. Do I scream " hot skinny jeans, hipster!!!"? NO. Do I chase them yelling, "OH BABY, GOD BLESS YOU!"? Certainly not. Do I yell "DAMN HONEY. NICE ASS!"? Absolutely not. Never have, never will. Does being female automatically give men the right to act like they're at the zoo? Is wearing "highlighter yellow" a reason to be visually violated? I don't think so.

I'd like to take this moment to thank a truck driver this morning who sang to me. You read that right, SANG.TO.ME. "They call me mellow yellooooooooow" his melodic husky voice rang out in the morning smog. And it made me smile. No easy feat when I've been conditioned to roll my eyes while silently wishing misfortune on the perpetrator in question. (Not evil misfortune, mind you, the harmless type, like spilling coffee all over himself or face planting in a dirty water puddle while ogling). Highlighter yellow may not be mellow. But I certainly am, thanks to my new found friend.

Moral of this story? Want to truly impress a gal you think is cute? Serenade her. And try to be witty and tasteful about it. No one likes to hear "I like big butts and I cannot lie...." as they're walking by. Now you know.

-KJ