Not quite ready to open the floodgates
I thought for a bit before pulling out my tiny little notebook and writing something. And in the few seconds that it took for me to mentally prepare myself to access the emotional in-box...well, I almost started crying right there at my desk. That would have been bad. Randomly bursting into tears at work is never a good thing.
Hence, no poetry yet.
But I'm sure there will be lots to write about.
The silence has returned. I believe it shall be permanent. On my end at least. I'm tired of fighting for something only to turn around a week or two later and wonder what the hell I was fighting for. Since I have been burdened with the fact that I am a highly intelligent female (in a world where intelligent guys marry their less intelligent secretaries), I realized this has turned into a mind game.
Reverse Telephone Chicken.
9 days and counting. And I'm not even thinking about dialing.
So I pay for my own damn gas money and my own hotel room. *gasp* I'm a evil feminist because I can open my own door (when I feel like it), pay for the movie tickets, and actually make a freakin' decision or two. And this is 2005, not 1905 - I'm perfectly capable of walking on the part of the sidewalk that's closer to the street. It's not that big of a deal.
Plus, it's gotta be hard to be chivalrous when your girlfriend has to pick you up and drive you everywhere.
I guess next time I'll have to giggle and bat my eyelashes and pretend I have no interest in anything whatsoever except makeup, clothes, celebrity gossip, and Cosmo.
And whoever thinks that it must be great to be beautiful and smart and have a sense of humor obviously doesn't have it like that. Trust me: it's not all it's cracked up to be.
Especially when a woman's chances of finding a lasting relationship decrease for every 10 points higher her IQ is.
In other words, men suck. That is all.
Hence, no poetry yet.
But I'm sure there will be lots to write about.
The silence has returned. I believe it shall be permanent. On my end at least. I'm tired of fighting for something only to turn around a week or two later and wonder what the hell I was fighting for. Since I have been burdened with the fact that I am a highly intelligent female (in a world where intelligent guys marry their less intelligent secretaries), I realized this has turned into a mind game.
Reverse Telephone Chicken.
9 days and counting. And I'm not even thinking about dialing.
So I pay for my own damn gas money and my own hotel room. *gasp* I'm a evil feminist because I can open my own door (when I feel like it), pay for the movie tickets, and actually make a freakin' decision or two. And this is 2005, not 1905 - I'm perfectly capable of walking on the part of the sidewalk that's closer to the street. It's not that big of a deal.
Plus, it's gotta be hard to be chivalrous when your girlfriend has to pick you up and drive you everywhere.
I guess next time I'll have to giggle and bat my eyelashes and pretend I have no interest in anything whatsoever except makeup, clothes, celebrity gossip, and Cosmo.
And whoever thinks that it must be great to be beautiful and smart and have a sense of humor obviously doesn't have it like that. Trust me: it's not all it's cracked up to be.
Especially when a woman's chances of finding a lasting relationship decrease for every 10 points higher her IQ is.
In other words, men suck. That is all.
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