Drowning in a sea of testosterone

Yesterday when I arrived in Antigua it was a little bit rainy but all the sights and smells were the same; it was like starting an adventure where all the little things were familiar but still unknown.
I had spent the night before alone in a little New York hotel room that smelled vaguely of smoke and carpet cleaner, and stared at the flickering tv, unable to sleep. Arriving in Antigua was like stepping into a cold refreshing shower (which I did have, incidentally, and it was amazing). I spent some time talking with the landlady and then after she left, unpacked and lay on the couch with the ocean breeze billowing in through the open porch doors. I was all alone.
I cooked some pasta for dinner and ate some, but I was too tired to stay up and finally locked the doors and turned out lights and went to bed. I lay there listening to the hum of the air conditioning unit and trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy pillow, and thought about this month I have begun here and felt apprehensive. I tried to pray but I was too tired… too tired to sleep, really. I dozed on and off but then woke to the sounds of frogs and cicadas outside and the wind whistling around the corners of the house. I took a sleeping pill (melatonin, which is a natural hormone your body makes that helps you fall asleep and gets disrupted by jetlag).
Sometime in the night there was a banging on the door and someone shouting my name. I ran up the stairs and recognized a familiar southern drawl and opened the door for Burton and Asa, my housemates. They had flown in and gone grocery shopping and had more groceries than I have ever seen in one car. 9 containers of yogurt (He eats one a day, Asa told me). 5 cartons of eggs. 3 jugs of milk. 8 packages of ham. The list goes on and on.
We sat in the dining room and talked and laughed until pretty late. I felt out of my depth, to say the least and finally retreated to my room just to get away from the overwhelming overload of testosterone.
Burton was a football player and I thought he was huge until I met Asa, who used to be on the power team (a Christian body-building team). Next to the two of them I feel dwarfed (imagine Thomas and Christoph with an extra 200 lbs between the two of them and tell me you wouldn’t feel intimidated!) They are both self-confident, dynamic, outgoing, and very Southern: sort of the definition of redneck.
Asa is a naturopath and chiropractor and when he saw the jar of nutella I’d smuggled through customs, he read the ingredients out loud to me and began to explain to me why I shouldn’t eat it.
“Listen, young man,” I told him, “I’m a quarter your size and I eat nutella all the time. The last thing I’m worried about is getting fat.”
“Ah,” he said, flexing his muscles, “But do you have tickets?” (i.e. tickets to the gun show)
“You think I want to look like that?” I asked him, staring at his bulging guns and imagining myself with my veins popping out.
I pointed out to the two of them that no matter what I ate I was going to live longer than both of them by about 6 years (3 because I’m a woman and 3 because I’m a Canadian).
Burton started to laugh. “But at least we’re still American!!!!”
I gave up at that point.
I started to tell them a story about something sometime later and Asa interrupted me and I told him that he shouldn’t interrupt, it was my turn. He asked if I was always this bossy and I thought for a second and said, only when I feel threatened. As if I have to compensate for how very intimidated I feel by being mouthy, which is unusual for me (not the mouthiness: the being intimidated by men).
I’m not sure what the answer is to survive this month. The last few months I’ve been living with mostly girls (Dad is the only male in the house but he’s at work most of the time), and I’ve gotten used to a feminine way of dealing with things. This morning I got up and Asa’s things were spread through the house in every area he had been. The lights had been left on all night and the toilet seat was up and although they had washed their plates, I’m sure they didn’t noticed the other dirty dishes spread around the kitchen.
I need some more estrogen around here. I feel like I am drowning in a sea of manliness. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with men, because these guys are as gentlemanly and as godly as they could get, but what I wouldn’t do right now for a bit of female companionship. Somehow I am feeling as alone as I did before they arrived.