The ball has been placed firmly in my court now. The other party has taken on an air of injured neutrality tinged with a hint of disdain. It was my party after all. I hate when this happens because I particularly suck at basketball. My form of confrontation doesn’t lend itself to this type of “team sport”. Yeah, I kid you not, I was told that; males and their damn sports anyway. There is no I or me in team so I need to quit being selfish and think about him.
I should clarify that I’m supposed to absorb this information by osmosis. Run around with my hands in the air wicking it up with the oxygen molecules. Instead I blunder about like a chicken with its head chopped off and a tendency toward making the situation worse, i.e. did I mention I’m confrontational? Yeah, probably won’t be the last time you hear it from me either. I get beat over the head with that one a lot. I’ve even stopped flinching or throwing my arm up to ward off the blow. I finally figured out that 99% of the time I’m being poked at. Meh. I get tired of the “I shouldn’t have to tell you” mentality. Obviously, if I have had to ask then I did not wick-up the information as assumed. You know what “assumed” does.
Loverly. If only. I think this has started to go viral. I got an email from a friend and it’s the same ol’ song and dance. Oy! There have been a few solutions but probably none 100% approved by the USDA or Dr. Ruth. Possibly some of our male friends would carry us off into the sunset, but not in a good way.
It was suggested that I talk to the vajajay; sounds better than talking to myself. Topic suggestion anyone?