If I had to describe myself...

Now that I think of it, if I had to describe myself, I would say that I am adaptable. My senior superlative should have been, "Most Likely To Never Once Appear To Miss Air Conditioning, Hot Showers, Mass Transit, Privacy, Or Pizza Whilst Contributing Greatly To Tribe Survival By Learning How To Hunt, Kill, Make Fire, Construct Shelter, Help Coordinate a School System, Help Fight Gross Infectious Diseases, Help Institute A Code Of Law, And Roll Passable Cigarettes For Others After The Coming Apocalypse, Who Cares If She's Quiet A Lot".

No, rilly.

I'm adaptable. And resourceful. And if not smart, at least not stupid. Or, I'm smart in some things, and really totally lobotomised in others. But so are most people, I guess. And I'm a reasonably hard worker at most things (ok, well, an obsessive worker at a few things, diligent at most, and an absolute fuck-off on a few other things--see? bell-shaped curve again...).

My point is, I'm not a bad person. I'm not a psychotic bitch, or a bunny-brained bimbo who needs to be treated like this. So why do it?

Can you tell I'm obsessing over this? It's because it's so prototypical of 99 and 44/100 % of my relationships. And I've been out of a relationship for a while, and this stuff just reminded me why.

Why do women get rewarded for bad behaviour?

If I were a bunny brain, he would have not pushed like he did.

This is the same thing going on as the flat tire comparison...one ex-bf left me stranded to change my own tire. I didn't think anything of it; I just called him, said I had a flat and might be too late and dirty to do anything but I'd hurry. I changed my tire, jetted over to where I was supposed to be, cleaned up quickly in the bathroom (just the sort of thing has always made me feel like Ramona Quimby, for reasons I'll not bother to think about), and voila! Or voila tout, rather. No one cared, and ex-bf was annoyed that I was late.


Around a few months-ish later, I'm riding with a friend. Tire goes flat. I get out to help her change it, but she's on her cell phone, talking to her bf, and starting to cry. She doesn't want me to touch it, because she is not sure what to do. [Ed. note: Huh?] I can't deal with hysterical crying (I can deal with crying just fine; I can't deal with the hysterical crying, throwing shit, hyperventilating, and all that crap if you're not being chased by a spree killer), so I just shut the hell up. Bf comes, changes the tire, and has to take her right away to get a new tire, because she is afraid to drive her car with the tiny temporary tire. Why? It's "too small", and doesn't "look right". O-kay, then. Bf and Fluffernut go in his car, and Ancodia, having volunteered, pilots the S.S. Deathtrap.

Ok; the temptation to pull a bunny-brained "But I don't want to drive the big, scary thing!" and leave him totally stuck was almost overwhelming. He deserved it, in my opinion. I'm just too nice.

Butsoanyway.

We get to Ye Olde Tyre Shoppe, and bf is not only responsible for putting the damn temporary tire on, but he also pays for her new tire! And listens to her whine about how scared she was, and comforts her!

I remember all too clearly how I was: outraged, irritated, amazed, baffled...and jealous. All at once. Just privately. I mean, I'm sure I looked normal, but... I was in total shock. What the hell?!? She didn't just escape from Freddy Krueger, dude; it was a fricking flat tire. I personally have just classified her as a Drama Queen; he's rewarding her for this nonsense!

There is injustice in this world, iff'n you haven't noticed.

I'm just trying to figure out how to not always be on the short-stick end of this injustice. Sheesh.