Ms. Flying Solo

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Yet again, I have a gripe. And yes, once again, it is about men.

Vader does not approve of my griping. Shhh...or he'll hear me!

I don’t mean to complain about them so much, but when they are THIS irritating, it’s hard not to. When will they learn to pull their heads out of their asses and start treating women with the respect they deserve? I shouldn’t have to apologize, but I’m so sorry you’re too pig-headed to realize women can’t be tossed around like trash, only to pick it up and deem it valuable when you see fit.

I am a no trash zone.

I can’t be tossed around like a piece of trash because you don’t seem to know the meaning of the words you speak to me.

I deserve better treatment than that. I may be blind when it comes to love and affection and male attention when they have that charming smile. I’m the first to admit it.I still turn into a silly school girl when a cute guy smiles that buttery smile  in my direction. However, I do know how I should be treated by the male species.

Guilty as charged.

UGH. They are so….irritating. I want to use different words, but I risk losing any chance I have with any male in this world. Karma. It’s a bitch sometimes.

“As the little boy said when asked if he wanted to be a lawyer like his mother,’Oh no, that’s women’s work.’ Logic has nothing to do with oppression.” 

Those are the home-run winning words of Gloria Steinem, a major Ms.

A major Ms? More like a Major Yes!

I’m not entirely sure what that means, but if she’s the major Ms. of her day, then I’m taking it no wedding bells every rung for her. Every girl dreams of her wedding day. I am no exception. But when all I do is encounter men like him…like them…it makes me wonder if there are any good ones left. Or all of them only want the girl to drop her panties enough times to satisfy them before moving on to the next girl willing to drop hers.

Now I'm always going to nice guys only ever want women to drop their panties?

Actions speak louder than words. Don’t tell me about all these good intentions you had, don’t freak out on me for something you blew out of proportion in the first place, don’t tell me you have feelings for me then leave me hanging!

I’m sorry, everyone. I simply need to give up men. Everyone says the moment I give up on them, the right one (or the next Mr. Right Now) will come along and remind me of what I believe in. This thing called love. I’ve always wanted that to be an exam question during finals week: Love…Any questions? Alright then, explain it as thoroughly as you can. And go!

And on and on and on the story goes...Love. It's a saga in itself.

I’d be writing for days.

Look back on all these posts that I’ve made in the last 2.5 months. Probably a quarter of them have dealt with men, or my rantings about men. Trust me, I know a few good ones. My luck? They’re already taken. I once read a quote: “Men are like parking spaces. The good ones are either taken or handicapped.” How man times has that ran through my mind in the last week? Too many times to count.

Ryan Gosling, you can walk through my door at any moment now. I’m waiting………………still waiting…………..well, I’ve waited this long for my perfect man to come along. I can keep waiting. It’s tormenting and exhausting, but I’ll wait.

Heart Throb Central....Hello, would you like to meet me? I'm the future Mrs. Gosling.

I’ll let my heart get stomped on a dozen more times. I’ll watch movies and cry at the emotional scenes, wishing against everything in my being that I won’t fall into a depressive state because I don’t have what the people in the story do. I’ll watch my sister and best friend get married in the next 18 months, and I’ll force myself to forget how lonely I am. I’ll put on a smiling face and act like I enjoy being single for years to come. I’ll pretend to have the carefree attitude of someone who enjoys going home to an empty bed every night, or leaving the bed of some one-night stand in the early hours of the morning.

This walk of shame would be preferred by me, actually. At least I'd be doped up on something.

They say women mature faster than men. Well, now I know it’s true. I’m ready for something emotionally stimulating and worth something, but every guy I have met….they just want to play. I thought I had the serious one. I thought I heard my own set of church bells at one point. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I saw myself in a wedding dress (in my head, of course.) I told myself a million times not to let my mind go there…but when I’m suddenly standing in front of the How-To books for weddings at Barnes and Noble and not knowing how I got there.

Not a good thing for my psychological health, really.

I’m a sad person. I’m a sad, love forsaken women who needs to get her head back on straight. And the only way to do that is to say, screw it! To all men. At least for now. Screw it, or screw them. Those are my choices…no serious attachments.

As the last one told me this evening, “I’m too busy for dedication.”

Two can play this game. I’m too busy to fall in love…I’m too busy to be serious about you…

Playing the game of Love can kill you.

I’m too much of everything to let you treat me this way.

I'm walking away. How long I'll be gone from the game, I can't say. But I'm out for the time being.

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