Looking foolish does the spirit good. The need not to look foolish is one of youth's many burdens; as we get older we are exempted from more and more, and float upward in our heedlessness, singing Gratia Dei sum quod sum. - Johm Updike

Thanks be to God that I am what I am

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


Conversation with caller:

"We're almost out of time," caller said with an apologetic sigh.

"Yeah, I know," I respond in sexy, intimate-sounding voice.  Like I haven't been keeping an eye on the clock and chortling, internally, at my success.  Another long call to push my call time average up and listening to this caller bitch about his life has been very little effort on my part.  Every PSO's dream call.  "I really wish we had more time.  I love talking to you."  Always encourage the good ones to call back.

"Will I be able to find you again?"

"Well, I'll hang on for a little while..." Complete and utter bullshit.  I signed up for an 8 hour shift and I have 7 hours to go but, it's not good to remind a caller that this is my job.  They get all wounded and pouty when I point out that I am paid for my attention.  "Please try to find me.  I would love to finish our conversation."  You got distracted and forgot to ask for a sexual fantasy, caller.  Wouldn't you  love to fix that mistake with me?

"Oh yeah.  It's just that you are so easy to talk to," caller said with a self-pitying sigh.  "Most women are just too crazy to talk to..."

And the caller timed out before I could call him a stupid motherfucker.  Thank god.

Women are crazy.  I'm crazy.  My friends are crazy.  I come from a long line of crazy women.  I might be able to hide it better than most because the universe has blessed me with a lack of sexual predators in my life but, trust me, I am still crazy.  I consider the 2 times in my life where I managed to evade a man chasing me concrete proof that there is a god.  The first time was when I was a child and a man who refused to respond to my greeting yet kept circling the area where I was waiting for my friends finally resorted to chasing me through a large park/nature preserve area until I ran into a large gathering of hippies having a picnic.  The second time was dealing with my stalker at the moment I realized 2 things while siting in the dark because of thunderstorm induced power outage.  1, no one believed that I had never been involved with this man therefore his fascination with me was a complete bafflement and 2, if I didn't leave now he was going to figure out which house I lived in and I wouldn't be able to stop him from breaking in and doing whatever he wanted to with me.  My stalker is an ex-Marine with a history of mental health issues.  He is also a foot taller than I am and has about a hundred pounds more muscle than I do.  Helpful suggestions like 'buy a gun' are not so helpful when the man who scares you is a fucking combat trained soldier.

As scared as I was, I still kept in mind that I was luckier than most of the women I know.  I had (and have) never been sexually assaulted directly other than having my tits grabbed more times than I can count.  Why the hell our culture thinks that a woman with big tits is asking for them to get grabbed by a complete stranger by just being alive is something I will never understand.  I was not sexually assaulted as a child even though my family was criminally neglectful.  I was not sexually assaulted as an adult (knock on wood) even though my 'fuck off and die' attitude tends to attract men who think I want to be 'broken'.  I have never been in a physically or sexually abusive relationship though there were more than a couple who have tried. The poor bastards were completely shocked when I walked out of their lives without looking back as a result of their actions.  I have endured the many slings and arrows our culture dishes out to women to keep us under control and yes, that has made me crazy.

And I have known a lot of crazy women with stories from their own past that are almost too horrible to believe.  Rapes, beatings, verbal abuse so foul it is a wonder and a testament to their strength that they are still alive, neglect so inhumane that their parents should have imprisoned for life, sexual exploitation.  It is no wonder that women have trust issues; many of us are survivors and the ones that aren't have friends who are.  We know that we might be one encounter from a horrible, life altering experience that could destroy us.  I don't want to be told that I'm being 'unreasonable' when a man acts like a creepazoid and makes my hackles rise.  I want a man who understands when I need him to back off, change the subject, or just be quiet and let me rant about the unfairness of life.  He doesn't have to fix anything, just understand that listening is the fix.  Give women the benefit of the doubt and understand that irrational moments do not make women universally irrational.

Or just continue to be a judgmental asshat and see how often you get laid.

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