You know those knuckleheads on the subway, those jackasses with their white iPod buds and furled tongues, who start in with the seat dancing and head bopping, when you can hardly keep your eyes open? I can’t stand them. I was so one of them this morning; I really couldn’t help myself.
Well I watch you sleep sometimes and it feels like the first time / And you’re always on my mind – Everyday is like the first day / And I talk to you sometimes even though you never talk back / And I buy you things sometimes ’cause I don’t mind…
–“Sometimes I don’t Mind” The Suicide Machines
Seems kind of sapalicious, just the way I dig my songs. I mean, how great, a guy staring at you in love while you sleep. The song isn’t about a girl, it’s about a bitch… well, a dog. I see it this way, if I can love Linus as much as I do, and derive so much pure happiness just from feeling him breathe, I’m okay. I mean, if I can love something other than a guy like that, then there’s hope for me yet.
Then I get to work and reveal an email from a stranger. Stuart’s email subject: “Stephanie I spent last night writing about you on my blog…” Between Stuart and Mae’s praises,and the dog song, I’m feeling way better. Then my dad kicks in with the following email:
Women are like apples on trees: the best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy… So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they’re amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along – the one who’s brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
And remember…. Men are like a fine wine. They start out as grapes, and it’s up to women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.
Gotta love daddy. And please, intellectually I know there’s more to life than boys. I think I show that in everything I’m passionate about. But changing 28 years of pathologic behavior doesn’t happen overnight. In the meanwhile, I’ll walk Linus and look for apple trees for him to piss a circle around.
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