Fuhgeddaboutit

I love the Mafia. Well, let me clarify. I love the Mafia portrayed by Hollywood. I considered this fact the other night when I was enjoying "Donnie Brasco" on cable. Here is what a dork I am: I planned my evening around watching this movie, because I absolutely love it.
Furthermore, I was doubly excited because I've been reading the book that Joe Pistone, a.k.a. Donnie Brasco, the FBI agent the movie is based on, wrote with one of the heads of the Bonnano crime family.
Some of you are now saying to yourself, "Is Emily okay? Is our friend who we knew was slightly askew more disturbed than we had thought?" No, no, at least, I don't think so. Let me try to explain.
Everyone who has ever seen "The Godfather" (parts 1 and 2, let's not talk about part 3) knows how cool these guys look. You got a problem with somebody? You whack 'em. If you're in the Mafia, you own certain neighborhoods and everybody gives you respect..and money..they give you money that you don't really have to do a helluva lot for, except intimidate them.
Nobody fucks with you, and I have this unhealthy one-time dream of being a gangster girlfriend...fuhgeddaboutit. And I'm about to abandon my feminist beliefs for just a minute. (I said it was a dream) Okay, you have this swaggery guy who is "in charge," he puts you up in an apartment that is central to him being able to see you, you don't want to work, you don't have to work, he pays for all your stuff..all you have to do is see him when he can get away from his wife. I fully realize on a logical level what a morally reprehensible lifestyle this is, but on the face of it, like on "The Sopranos," man, it looks like a sweet deal.
Before I moved to Philadelphia, noting its close proximity to New Jersey, I briefly considered trying to realize my "gangster girlfriend" dream. But, true to form, once I met a few people from New Jersey (no offense to the Garden State), I began to think the dream was definitely better than the reality ever would be, so now I'm content to drool over Tony Soprano when I can and learn to be content with that.
I think that the root of my Mafia obsession is explained fairly easily. Normally, I adhere to certain beliefs when it comes to men. In theory, I don't like really macho men who order women around and act overly masculine. That whole ordering for me, telling me what I'm going to do and not do, that does not fly with me.
But, for whatever reason, I honestly do like a certain amount of braggadocio and more than a little of that Frank Sinatra swagger in a man. Bottom line, I'm not going to say I don't want a man to cry. Men should definitely be able to cry when they feel the need to, but somewhere along the lines, some men turned into wusses trying to "embrace their feminine sides," and that is something that I will never find attractive.
So, if I have to choose between Sensitive Ponytail Man and Michael Corleone, who will I choose? Fugheddaboutit.