It's weird whenever I'm in a women's clothing shop, or sitting in a car with two other women, or at work waiting on women, how quickly we jump into "lady talk" (terminology? I don't know the exact way one would describe it, but you know what I mean)--topics that range from men, to menstrual cycles, bra sizes, gyno visits, cosmo magazine, babies and children expectations, small animal coddling, etc. My mom has never really indulged this type of conversation topic with anyone, and so it's almost a foreign language to me--I get awkward and weird because it's embarrassing and strange, though I'm acutely aware of my inability to escape its presence (because there's like this pact that exists among women? like by being a woman there's an invitation for other women to discuss these things? I'm sure something similar exists for men, too...).
Well, today I had the pleasure of experiencing two very different sides of my mother--as first she engaged in such lady talk with both me and Jasmine (the girl who everyone thinks is my twin at work?!), and then ten minutes later she performed some miracle work on the broken down car (because she used to be a diesel mechanic!). I was baffled as she discussed wrenches and torque-age and cylinders and held a completely competent conversation in yet another foreign tongue.
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