Tuesday, May 02, 2006
The Change of Seasons
It's that time of year when I start wearing flip-flops (remember when we called them thongs, but now we can't cause it's kind of dirty) for my morning commute and then change into my heels at work. But it's been so long since I wore completely flat shoes that my legs are rioting against it and my calves hurt all the time. Apparently my flip-flop muscles need a little working out.
So, can we talk about how absolutely true the cliche Feast or Famine is? Because, quite frankly, I am considering crowning myself Queen of Rejection. I don't know that I can put into words the insane amounts of rejection that I have been experiencing lately. Not even Email Boy, who I once dubbed Text Message Whore, won't return my text messages (which is actually probably for the best, as I am WAY over on my allotted monthly text messages). I haven't heard from Scott since The Great Text Message Lie on Saturday night, despite assurances from almost everyone I've talked to that he would still have the cojones to call again. And even though, I would prefer not to hear from him, so as not to have to even tempt my total lack of self-control, it smarts a little that he can shut me out so quickly after a month of rampant daily communication.
I have spent a lot of time contemplating what is the active ingredient in my Man Repellant, because it's apparently in OVERDRIVE these days, and I haven't been able to reach a solid conclusion. It's not my looks, I'm generally described as pretty/cute/beautiful (on a good day), although I'm sure that some would disagree. It could be the size of my ass, but that's often as much of an allurement as it is a deterrent. I'll openly admit that I am tough and hard and have high expectations, and I enjoy knowing that I intimidate people. Plus, it's very difficult to show people the real me, all part of my vulnerability issues.
Last night, I prayed for kindness.
Maybe that's it.
So, can we talk about how absolutely true the cliche Feast or Famine is? Because, quite frankly, I am considering crowning myself Queen of Rejection. I don't know that I can put into words the insane amounts of rejection that I have been experiencing lately. Not even Email Boy, who I once dubbed Text Message Whore, won't return my text messages (which is actually probably for the best, as I am WAY over on my allotted monthly text messages). I haven't heard from Scott since The Great Text Message Lie on Saturday night, despite assurances from almost everyone I've talked to that he would still have the cojones to call again. And even though, I would prefer not to hear from him, so as not to have to even tempt my total lack of self-control, it smarts a little that he can shut me out so quickly after a month of rampant daily communication.
I have spent a lot of time contemplating what is the active ingredient in my Man Repellant, because it's apparently in OVERDRIVE these days, and I haven't been able to reach a solid conclusion. It's not my looks, I'm generally described as pretty/cute/beautiful (on a good day), although I'm sure that some would disagree. It could be the size of my ass, but that's often as much of an allurement as it is a deterrent. I'll openly admit that I am tough and hard and have high expectations, and I enjoy knowing that I intimidate people. Plus, it's very difficult to show people the real me, all part of my vulnerability issues.
Last night, I prayed for kindness.
Maybe that's it.
