"With a little help from my friends."

I am not a girly girl; I hardly wear makeup, despise painting my nails and doing my hair, and usually wear whatever is most comfortable even if that means wearing something out of the hamper.

It should come as no surprise to readers of this blog and those who read the above sentence that throughout the course of my life, my best friends and those I feel most comfortable with have all been members of the opposite sex.

Some examples of my penchant for being friends with males include:

• My best friend in pre-school was Danny. I got so upset one day that I couldn't sit by him at lunch that our teacher made me sit in time-out for 10 minutes.
• My best friend in the 3rd grade was Clarence, a black kid who lived around the corner. Every day after school, he'd come over to my house and we'd jump on the trampoline until dark.
• In the 6th grade, I became close to the school outcast, Clay. He had no other friends but somehow we bonded and talked about how when either one of us got rich what kind of car we'd buy the other (mine: Jaguar, his: Lexus). I now realize that Clay was gay and often wonder where he is now.
• During my high school years, I ran around the school in Birkenstocks and Gap jeans (our Jesus look) with Eddie, who I knew was gay long before he ever realized it. We passed time by going to Seminary and making fun of the Marmans.
  
• My first closest friend when I moved to SLC was Santi, a recently returned missionary who I assumed was gay when I met him. He claimed he wasn't only to come out a year later and find his life partner 1 year after that.
  

I never thought that it was odd to have boys as close friends. And now, I understand why I attached myself to boys over girls. It has nothing to do with a physical or sexual attraction as much as I enjoy the company of men over women. I came to this realization recently as some events unfolded surrounding a "Girls Weekend" that turned into utter stupidity; I would rather hang out with a group of gay men and deal with all of their drama any day over a group of women and their catty bitchiness.

Now, this is not to say I don't have some great friends who are girls. In fact, some of my best and closest confidants today are four girls without whom I would be completely lost.

But if I get to choose who I want to spend eternity with, groups of gay men will be my first choice followed closely with groups of straight men. Old people come next (they sleep a lot) then drag queens. Groups of girls tie with groups of children for last place.

As I've wracked my brain trying to figure out why I don't like hanging out with groups of girls, I realized a lot about myself.

I don't like hanging out with other girls because most of the time, girls are constantly comparing themselves to the other girls around. I stopped doing that in high school and could care less that Missy has the body of a Barbie Doll. (Although, I'm sure Ralphy appreciates it greatly :D). I see absolutely no point putting myself through that hell.

I also realize that I have been falsely accused of creating drama. All I've ever wanted is for my (gay) friends to get a long together in the same group. I have tried to be the glue only to have the house of cards crumble down around me. In the past, I have found it annoying that certain friends can't hang out with other friends and I have to keep them separated. But now, I realize that that's just how gay men are and as much as I want to, I can't change them. They love me for who I am so I must love them for who they are.

In the end, guys really are so easy to deal with.