29 August 2008

chick lit

Today, while I was at the bookstore, an ignorant freshman boy called Jane Eyre "just a chick book."

I was so appalled.
Damn gender stereotypes.

14 August 2008

Well, that's not what you said though...

I've decided that I really don't like it when people say, "Well, that's not what you said" when, in fact, you are quite confident of what you said. Especially when it's said with a condescending tone. Especially when that person has awful communication skills. Even more so when it's your boss and if you defend yourself, it's considered insubordination.

It makes me want to strangle a pillow. Or drop kick a puppy.

08 August 2008

What did you expect, a peaceful ride?

Love is like the ocean.

You take long walks on the beach. The sand snuggling in between your toes. The waves slink up on the shore, gentling kissing your feet. And if you listen carefully you might hear the voices of angels or a soft whisper of "I love you" float up from the waves.

And then there's the time when ignore the red flag or the yellow one with a big black dot in the middle and you go swimming anyway. The pull of the water is strong and you often feel like you'll fall on your ass. You're in there for so long that you start to feel a little confident. Everything seems fine until the next wave comes. And then another wave joins it. Enough power and force to sweep you off your feet. Or rather, sweep your own feet out from under you. Your body swirls under the surface encountering more power in one surge of water than you've ever known before. You close your eyes to the chaos and blow air out your nose as hard as you can. Despite the water's efforts, you stand. Despite your own efforts, the water still went up your nose, stinging nasal passages you didn't know existed.

Guess the ocean's just paying you back for all the times you peed in the water.

And yet.
And yet. You go back soon after. Touch toes to foam and make peace with that reckoning force.