breathe

how many times do i have to tell them -- don't dress up for a boy, dress up for yourself!
especially if that boy isn't even worth your time.

humans are confounding. running after sex when you're young, shifting to thoughts of marriage when you're older, then it becomes trying to find a long-term partner plus good sex; not to forget people you aren't romantically linked with... friends. friends who stop talking to you, friends who accuse you of stealing, friends who claim you stop spending time with them when you're interested in a member of the opposite sex, and then there's family -- aging parents, siblings who go away and you miss, or siblings who are at home and you cannot stop fighting with.

it sounds exhausting, doesn't it? dealing with all these people and not going completely bonkers. and then handling them and wondering if you handled them the right way...? which is why i love my Labrador. it's so simple with her. it's just unadulterated love. no expectations. which is impossible from humans.

it's my "alone" phase again, apparently.

when you're around too many people, too much of the time, and you lose sight of yourself... well, it's a little scary. i've been ridiculously social the last few weeks. and i think i know why -- it wasn't a very good reason. it wasn't even for myself. it's as if i am jumping from the frying pan to another hot, steaming vessel, or even right into the fire.

so when i am handing out well-meaning advice to the girlfriends i love, it smarts a bit, it is tiresome. because i know what we go through as women -- over-analysis, expectations, standards [yes, we're picky about people we want to date or take off our clothes for], heart over mind, then mind trying to win over heart, careful weighing, talking, crying, waxing, texting, indulging... it's bloody exhausting when i see what we put ourselves through.

relationships are bloody tiring. i wish everyone was my Labrador. or bluepapercranes. who is like a human Labrador with almost non-existent expectations.

*big bloody sigh*