Taken from the pages of MySpace:
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
I ran into a friend of mine the other day and he happened to be talking to this guy, median age prolly 24, I dunno, anyway, my friend starts telling me that men will prolly be intimidated by me once I get my M.A., which makes me want to laugh, really, b/c how would men even know that?
It’s not tattooed on my body (body= arms and forehead, I’m very Victorian about my ankles), and even if it were tattooed on me, they would either read it “ma” or think it was some dude’s initials.
Anyway, I would argue that it’s my hunched posture, dorky transition lenses (I’m concerned about UV-rays while walking to my car, c’mon that’s lame), and my oh-so carefully laid out dowdy outfits that keep the cat-calls at bay.
Last night I even had a dream about my dowdiness… I dreamt my glasses broke and I had to fix them, which meant that one eye was encircled by a huge frame, like the kind old ladies wear, and one was smaller and less ridiculous, but together they were completely ridiculous. I had to walk around all day like this and people were put off by it, but what could I do, I had to take notes in class.
Well, anyway back to men being intimidated by brains, that just cracks me up so much, I mean, again, how would they even know that?
A woman would have to get her SAT/GRE scores written on the back of her shorts, instead of sexy, in order for men to know that, and I’m sure many nerdy girls’ butts would just let a man know she sits on it too much, it’s hard to read while jogging.
I’m sure it’d say something more like “I don’t Stairmaster much”.
What’s worse than dowdiness?
How ’bout lack of social skills?
I almost insulted my friend’s friend… It wouldn’t have been intentional but it’s a good thing I stopped myself before it was too late.
See, as my friend had just finished his sentence “guys… M.A… blah, blah,… intimidated.”
Me next: mouth sputtering, “heh, heh… intimidated, yeah sure, well, at least you can always count on pseudo-intellectual guys to hit on you, y’ know like the kind who wear… BLACK BERETS.”
Ok, what’s in caps, I DID NOT SAY. Thank God, too, because his friend was indeed wearing a funny little black hat. And I swear, my inner voice was saying to me: “shut the f*ck up” right before I nearly said those words. Only my inner voice doesn’t censor herself, even if she is still self-conscious in dreams.
Anyhow, I’m gonna go work on my research paper for class, in my room, away from people.