Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
Mutha Fuckin Cats
A single girl in her 30's: go ahead and dig a ditch and throw me in it. Wait, what? What the hell am I thinking?! Oh, I know, I'm thinking women are crazy because men are idiots and all those years I thought my older friends were nuts, well, turns out they are fuckin nuts - but with good reason.
Pimpin ain't easy but for fuck's sake - being an unattached woman in this schizophrenic city is fucked, too. I see tons of young men running around, looking dapper, looking for trouble. I see tons of young women, sauntering to and fro, waiting for trouble to find them. How the hell is it all these folks aren't meeting up? One theory is that only the tiniest segment of people - the incredibly attractive - have enough confidence to actually speak to the opposite sex. The other 98% of us are so grossly aware of the possibility of rejection that we keep our eyes lowered and immediately look away in fear, when we do accidentally make eye contact with other humans. This protectionist tactic does make it rather difficult to meet those of the opposite gender.
My assortment of female friends runs the gamut, from the average, pretty girl next door, to the exotic "where are you from?" to the tall and malnourished modelesque type that turns all the heads in the bar. It's not just the average of us having trouble meeting men...it's all of us.
Do you know there's nothing interesting on Missed Connections tonight? I mean, at least a ridiculous Missed Connection makes you feel like there's the possibility of romance - that men do actually have souls beneath their stoic, lifeless demeanors. But even the Missed Connections is a sad and lonely place tonight. What's a girl to do? I'm gonna start buying some mutha fuckin cats.
That's right world, I tried. I was nice and kind and silly and unique and what? Oh, everyone's unique and wonderful? I'm not a diamond in the rough with charming nicks and chips that someone might love?
More likely, and similar to the remaining 98% of us who are pretty average, I'm just having a rough day. I'll go to bed, sleep in then make a nice, hot cup of strong coffee. And then I'll wonder where the fuck all these cats came from.
As Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day.
Pimpin ain't easy but for fuck's sake - being an unattached woman in this schizophrenic city is fucked, too. I see tons of young men running around, looking dapper, looking for trouble. I see tons of young women, sauntering to and fro, waiting for trouble to find them. How the hell is it all these folks aren't meeting up? One theory is that only the tiniest segment of people - the incredibly attractive - have enough confidence to actually speak to the opposite sex. The other 98% of us are so grossly aware of the possibility of rejection that we keep our eyes lowered and immediately look away in fear, when we do accidentally make eye contact with other humans. This protectionist tactic does make it rather difficult to meet those of the opposite gender.
My assortment of female friends runs the gamut, from the average, pretty girl next door, to the exotic "where are you from?" to the tall and malnourished modelesque type that turns all the heads in the bar. It's not just the average of us having trouble meeting men...it's all of us.
Do you know there's nothing interesting on Missed Connections tonight? I mean, at least a ridiculous Missed Connection makes you feel like there's the possibility of romance - that men do actually have souls beneath their stoic, lifeless demeanors. But even the Missed Connections is a sad and lonely place tonight. What's a girl to do? I'm gonna start buying some mutha fuckin cats.
That's right world, I tried. I was nice and kind and silly and unique and what? Oh, everyone's unique and wonderful? I'm not a diamond in the rough with charming nicks and chips that someone might love?
More likely, and similar to the remaining 98% of us who are pretty average, I'm just having a rough day. I'll go to bed, sleep in then make a nice, hot cup of strong coffee. And then I'll wonder where the fuck all these cats came from.
As Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day.
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