I digress...

My preceptor at work likes to ask questions. In the dead of night, standing outside the ambulance base smoking cigars with frozen fingers and a face so numb I developed a slurred speech to rival any alcoholic; he brought about an abrupt change in topic. He asked me if I had ever worked in a job that was predominantly males, and after I said no, preceeded to warn me that I was going to have to get used to vulgar and unrefined behaviour. I didn't think much of it at the time, but by the eleventh hour of our shift, where I somehow ended up in a circle of five men talking about vasectomies, boobs, and just sex in general, I thought back to my preceptor's comment about bracing myself for the worst. I don't want to give a bad impression of the guys I work with, they are some of the most compassionate and welcoming men I've ever met, and I've seen them work and they are amazing at what they do. They are for the most part, average males, and there has been more than one occasion in my life where I would rather hang out with a bunch of guys talking about things that make me uncomfortable, then a bunch of girls whose complete lack of self esteem spreads depression like a disease. But that's another blog for another time. Back to the point at hand, and to summarize. My new work environment will take some getting used to, and while I love my coworkers, sometimes I wish they would talk about something normal. Like food. The differences between males and females is really quite funny. As girls we talk about our feelings, about our emotions and we communicate through words and physical touch. I've come to the conclusion that guys communicate in a completely different way, thats's why us women don't understand them. They seem to show they care about each other by merely being in the same room, talking about sex and girls, and doing stupid things like riding bikes down steep cliffs or seeing who can do the most damage with their fists. Maybe I got that wrong, but it seems to make sense.