By Dina Di Maio

Dina's grandparents kissing--who doesn't want to be kissed like this?

Every woman dreams of the Officer and a Gentleman scene where the dashing, uniformed Richard Gere character whisks factory girl Debra Winger up into his arms and away from it all. The woman who denies this fantasy is a liar. That’s why Prince Charming exists. I don’t care how assertive or career-minded she is, she dreams of this fantasy.

Of course, as she gets older, she realizes this fantasy is a fantasy but then remembers that when she was young, there was a man who made it seem like a reality but then he was just a short take in the movie of her life.

My father tells me this secret about men: "They are just men."

What a divine revelation! You mean the guy from England who took me to dinner, split the check and wouldn’t leave a tip is just a man? And the guys who repeatedly said how beautiful I was and left after two weeks of dating because they didn’t get sex are just men? Hey, Dad, what about the guy who said he loved me, that we were a team, that it was me and him? I guess he was just a man too! Wow, if only I had known this divine revelation before.

But I do think that is the best way to sum it up. We’ve heard men are from Mars, women are from Venus. But I don’t agree with that. I think men are from Uranus. That would explain why they are such asses.

Women dream of flower deliveries; men dream of deflowering.

Another male said to me, "Men are dogs." What woman hasn’t heard that one?

Still I continue to picture this Richard Gere scene, knowing full well that if the scene were to really happen, what would follow would be bills, work, a house, kids, no time, stress, doctor visits and the like. But who wants to think of those things, so I dwell on the happy scene, because after all, I am just a woman.

Yes, I am a woman. I want a career, I want to travel, I want to live, but I also want to be respected, I want to be thought of, I want to be loved, I want cuddling, kissing, flowers, dinner, Paris, city walks, and a gondola ride, I want it because you want to give it not under the condition of sex within a certain time frame, I won’t have sex unless I love you and know you love me, I want your attention, I want you to pay the check, I want you to call, I want surprises, I want a gift on my birthday (a thoughtful one, not a last-minute drug store grab). Is this too much for you men? Am I high-maintenance? A princess? Too much work? Well, too bad. I guess in your opinion, I am just as disappointing as I find you to be. But, after all, like you are just men, I am just a woman.