Actually, I feel like I should cop to something here so that maybe you guys can offer some helpful advice/insight. GP made it very clear to me that he didn't want to have sex with me unless I trusted him. I believed that he was right to feel this way. However, even though I had good intentions, I convinced myself that I did trust him because I wanted to have sex even though it turns out that really I didn't. Therefore, I feel like my own judgment is pretty sketchy. It's like in order to get to the carnival I have to go through the alley with a man but on the way to the carnival it's daytime and the alley is brightly lit and I can hear the festive music and practically taste the cotton candy and I so want to ride on the carousel that even if the man says to me "You have to remember that the alley might be dark on the way home and you might be tired and have a bellyache from eating too much candy. Are you sure you still want to go to the carnival?" I am 99.9% capable of convincing myself that I have no issues regarding dark alleys, belly-aches due to eyes to big for stomach or the possible appearance of a maudlin post-carnival clown dressed in street clothes.
Anyways, even though I did rather f8ck up in my usual fashion, at least I managed some self-awareness and regrouped rather quickly. So, "Onward Ho!" I say to myself affectionately.
Whilst on the topic. My daughter put some songs by the Dresden Dolls on a Cd she burned for my car. I must say I appreciate the neo-romantic-post-feminist-HD-slut themes to many of their songs.
Quote:
glass slipper
no one's asking to go dancing its not like that anymore its romantic if they mean it when they shut your fingers in the door its a gory sort of story thats been told a hundred times before it gets tricky dont be picky if the slipper fits you wear it whore
how many tips can i take home tonight without them getting mad how many stitches do you think it takes to fix a cut that bad how many minutes until midnight and you get your eyesight back
not to knock it i've been off it never moving very much at once its been awkward i still offer it when its that time of other girls shower but i give out flowers to curious strangers who throw dollars at my feet
how many crimes can i try spotting dry before it leaves a stain how many times say that i love you til it doesnt mean a thing how many fittings must i sit through with my big feet blistering how many strips until it hits me and my big mouth strikes again
i'm not asking to go dancing i'm not that dumb anymore its exhausting to keep smiling when your toes are bleeding through the floor its a gory sort of story thats been told a million times before don't be sorry just ignore me because honestly i'm too sore from fitting exactly to ride into setting suns aching to stand on my own two feet
how many wishes do i still have left to fix the way it ends how many princes will it take to put a girl like this back together again how many instances can you point out where i was less than kind how many happy endings do you need to change your [censored] mind and how much time do we have left before it's midnight and you see that i was never the right size?
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" - Mary Oliver
