Spaghetti and Waffles

Yeah, it's audacious. And lazy. Tonight I'm sponging off my sister's blog and sharing with the entire world a bit of intelligent and creative writing on the differences between males and females...not authored by myself, but by Johanna of spider infamy. Creative, Jo is. Sentimental and romantic, most definitely. Intellectual, not incredibly. But this isn't sentimental or romantic. I liked this a lot and I think you all will too...although I'd have to preface it with the disclaimer that my brain, thank you very much, is not a typical Spaghetti Brain. But you can judge for yourself. :) Enjoy!

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Dear Cyberworld:

I’m sure that there are a lot of ways to describe my personality, but I think that anybody who knows me at all would agree that I seem to be very romantic at heart. And I know that I would have to plead guilty on all accusations of this. Many times I want to be as free as the wind, but on a much more often circumstance, I find myself wanting to belong to that Special Someone. And sometimes, maybe a little more often then not, I find that I want both at the same time! How this is possible, I really don’t know. Such contradictions are a habit of mine that it is impossible to shake. It’s in my blood, I assume. In fact, it’s in every girl’s blood. It’s a curse of horrific and astonishing caliber.

Here, I believe, is as perfect a time as any to introduce you to a new concept. It is a large mass of strange, infinite, always female, sometimes frightening, and very, very, very complex accumulation of that stringy stuff inside your head, and is known to all males as the Spaghetti Brain.

The Spaghetti Brain is what men use to describe a woman’s mind. It is a large tangled, stringy, unknown web of emotions that they (bafflingly) cannot ever understand, even in their wildest imaginations.

Men typically use the Spaghetti Brain trick as an excuse for not understanding the complex accumulation of our string of emotions. They cowardly hide behind it, knowing that the female mind is far too out of reach for them to grasp at a moments notice, and therefore needing some excuse for failure.

On the other hand, the theory of the Spaghetti Brain is correct on a few counts. At times, even I can’t understand the strange mixture of sensations streaming through my being. There are times in a day when I will just be talking to a member of my family on a topic as harmless (you’d think) as school, and I’d find myself in tears. For no reason at all! This creates in me frustration at myself for being so emotional about nothing at all, and my tears will give way to the emotion of anger. This is a perfect example of the Spaghetti Brain, also known as Emotional Contradictory Syndrome. I’m not sure if I am the only girl on the face of the earth to suffer these effects, but I sincerely hope not, otherwise this whole paper would be for nothing.

Boys are correct about the Spaghetti Brain on another count as well. Sometimes my own mind becomes such a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions and sensations and ideas, that my mind does feel like a mass of jumbled spaghetti. Sometimes, I will be talking to somebody about something, and then a moment later I will spout out a (seemingly) random thought or question. People often wonder about this, and how I can jump from subject to subject in a span of three seconds. It’s just that my mind is going so fast that my mouth can’t keep up, thus creating a random thought every now and then.

It’s the Spaghetti Brain at work.

The reason men find this such fascinating and unreachable pastime is because they can’t understand the fine art of using ones brain to its full capacity. And here, I will introduce you to the pride of all men. It is the organized, simple, perfect (supposedly), uncomplicated world of the Waffle Head.

The Waffle Head is how men like to picture their minds: as neat, orderly, well-maintained compartments of simple things. There’s the compartment of sports, the compartment of food, the compartment of dating (the smallest compartment of all), the compartment of school, and so on. They take a lot of pride in their Waffle Heads and seem to think it a great accomplishment to occasionally forget to use ones brain. Admitting to being a Waffle Head is the same thing as saying that you only use your mind as a tool to stay alive and not for dramatic thinking, as it was intended since the beginning of time.

The Waffle Head theory is somewhat correct, although not quite as accurate as men like to suppose. They typically do have small sections of brain-mass that they can tap into at any moment of their choosing, and throw bits of information into whenever they wish. And on top of all these things, men can most always take a bit of information, skim over the data it offers, and carelessly throw it into a “compartment” without having to analyze it to try and find deeper meaning until there is almost nothing left.

On the other hand, we Spaghetti Brains like to suppose that the “compartments” of which men are so proud, are actually glorified trash cans. For instance, have you ever noticed that boys and men can never remember anything that happened two minutes ago? Have you ever wondered why they are so darn forgetful?

Well, we have. We Spaghetti Brains have wondered about it for quite some time. We often hold meetings of the Secret Spaghetti Brain Association after two a.m. in somebody’s grandpa’s old barn and discuss these great mysteries of life. And now, I believe we have hit the solution on the bull’s eye. Men have but one “compartment” in their overconfident minds, that being (as I think I have already said) a large trash can. They take a small article of information, scan it for useful facts (usually not find any), and then throw it away into the trash can of their minds. Have you ever noticed that they do the same thing with mail? While we women keep every scrap of mail we receive, and yes, even the envelopes, men skim the letter, throw it away, and forget about it. No wonder their minds are so neat and tidy!

The same thing goes for the Spaghetti Brain mind. We keep every particle of information that passes through our ears, and soon our minds become as cluttered as an old attic before Spring Cleaning.

This is my theory.

Now, don’t ever assume that I think boys are stupid or dumb, on the contrary, I think them (more often then not) far smarter then girls. And, though they sometimes don’t use all of their brainpower, they never have to worry about all the dramatics of life or emotions getting out of whack or unintentionally turning life into a dramatized soap-opera. This is a major plus.

And with that bit of information, I will end this theatrical hypothesis. So now, you may push this bit of information into any gap of your brain that is still uninhabited and go on with your lives, only, maybe a little smarter now.

Oh, and what I said earlier about boys forgetting what you told them two minutes ago, don’t worry about that for the moment; the garbage doesn’t go out until Thursday.