Okay, quick pop quiz -
What do you get when you have
1) A Girl-Woman
2) Too much free time
3) Too many chick lit novels
Answer: A girl-woman
(who should be reading more intellectual stuff) who starts fantasizing about her love life
(er...well..more like 'imaginary' love life) and whose head is swimming with all sorts of crazy romantic notions
(and all that poppycock).Sorry..guys reading this- you really won't enjoy this post..unless you have a burning curiosity about the female psyche. Okay we're all waiting for that one guy who'll come along when we least expect it..y'know drop dead gorgeous, funny, sexy, smart, 'butterflies-in-tummy' inducing, rich (ok this isn't a
must but it would be the icing with a cherry on the hunky cake..Mmm icing..cherry....hunk...)
*Ahem*
Where was I?
Ah yes...Men.
We've seen 'em all haven't we, ladies (and some men)?
There's the bad boy, the one our mothers warned us about. The one our fathers would love to aim a shotgun at. You know it, the minute you lay eyes on him..everything about him
screams 'BAD IDEA!!!'. The one that makes your heart literally skip a beat, even while you pretend that you couldn't give a flying rats ass about him coz theres no way he'd ever go for you...or would he? The one that
always goes away. The one you won't forget even though it was a blessing you two never got together.
There's the sort you lust after for years, deluding yourself that every gesture, every word, every glance has a hidden meaning..only to find that..well..it
doesn't.And you think "Boy did I waste a shitload of time on that!" And it dawns upon you, that you spent way too much time moulding yourself to him and his world.
You dream about the nice guy who'll adore you, lavish you with love. He come along alright, only problem is you can't imagine yourself getting romantic with him...AT ALL. He's got about as much sex appeal as your *insert-male-relative-title-here*. No way, Jose.
Then theres always the cringeworthy 'mistake'. The one that makes you wanna scream "Your Honour, I plead temporary insanity!"..that or "Aye Caramba! What was I thinking?!"
So you're at a club, dancing to your hearts glory when a confident young man walks upto you and whispers "You're beautiful."
Short, sweet and ok maybe the delivery was a little cheesey. But something nags at you at the back of your head the minute you lay eyes on him. Something doesn't sit quite right.
You chat for a bit, exchange numbers, talk on the phone..and he says a couple of things that get your 'Jackass-Bullshitter' alert up and running. 50 ignored phonecalls later, he gets the hint..and so do you- Trust your instinct.
And then along comes the guy who seems to have everything you've wanted...until you wake up one, fine day and you realise that not only have you ended up mothering him but he's got a terribly annoying habit or two..or ten. You rub your eyes and go "Hmm..why didn't I spot that before? It annoys the bejeezus outta me." And slowly and delicately try to extricate yourself from the mess, whilst trying very hard to cause minimal damage to his delicate psyche.
.
.
(All the aforementioned 'types' may or may not be entirely fictitious).
.
Okay so what are we left with then?
A very depressing scene.
What I'm wondering is where the HELL have all the cowboys gone?
So this makes me wonder if the right guy out there really exists. Or do we just settle down and resign ourselves to the fact that we will forever have to live with a compromise.
The compromise of settling with 'second-best'.
The compromise of ending up with someone, when all along you know (or realise..or hope) that there is someone better, out there.
(You must realise I don't mean to talk down..when I speak of second best, its merely in terms of what suits our respective personalities the best. No ones better than anyone else and blah blah blah.)
Damn these chick lit novels.
Damn them for putting these disturbing thoughts into my fluffball brain!
-Mahi shakes a fist at the two novels-
***
In other news, I visited a club last night and I just HAD to tell you about this girl I saw.
She and her friend were the only ones on the dancefloor, and get this - she was literally screwing the floor.
I don't even know how thats possible but there she was- Doing it!
I don't mean to sound like a prude, but couldn't she get herself a room?
Or a pimp?