The title is pretty explanatory. In the 20 years and 7 months and 9 days of my life I have NEVER been stood up before. Not that I’m a Gents Woman(since the male term for it is Ladies Man), but I am pretty popular with the darker sex to actually be stood up in real life.
It feels weird, I will agree to that. God, it makes me want to unsheath my katana and slash a hole through his skull or heart, which ever is more convenient and just go along my way. And also find enough tissues to wipe the blood off my hands.
Though now that my rage rant is over, I feel like a bit of a wishful fool. Maybe I misinterpreted what he was saying. Maybe he didn’t want me to wait and my overactive imagination led me to believe that he did(not the first time.) Maybe he was just being polite and didn’t think that I would. Oh, so many different possibilities.
But truth be told, this is the first time this has happened to me, so this is quite exciting.
Yes, i feel a little stupid, standing in the parking lot, watching all the passerby’s go by(?!). Laughing to myself in this situation mostly seems apt. Like crazy “bruahahahahaha” laughter.
Maybe I just expect way too much from people, and honestly, nobody has that much time in their rather busy lives. It’s just mostly my overactive brain that seems to wait around for all these people. Its a unique habit, I tell you, waiting for people, though it’s an immense waste of brain power. Waiting for them to call, to text, to smile, to talk, while in turn trying to possibly do anything good for the other person to feel loved and wanted. It is a unique, naive habit, that I need to genuinely let go of. Bid good-bye to it. Fare thee well, innocent habit. Sayonara. Dasvidanya. Be strong, self-sufficient. So that next time, I can walk away without seeming stupid.
Well, on the flipside, it’s a fantastic thing that I wont have to meet him for the rest of my life. Or so I can hope until my luck runs out. And maybe I can survive that encounter without being the socially awkward panda that I am and handle it with total grace and aplomb. But just to appease my battered and bruised ego, I would want to think that he just missed hanging out with a fucking awesome person.
Well, boys are stupid anyways.
….quite literally actually. An average person spends at a minimum four-six hours a week being stuck in traffic jams. Some call it snarls, some call it being in a Catch22 situation. I call it being stuck in reverse.
People curse when they’re stuck at these traffic congestions; hurling out abuses, honking incessantly, hoping to find some relief, some simply get out of their vehicles and simply try to ease the job of the rather flusteres police sergent who is trying his best to monitor and control the rather unruly traffic. Cars entering into bus lines, scooters entering into tram lines, trams having no place to go and to add to all of that the cacophony of thatt those noise rendering the rather calm mind with quite a headache.
People complain less if its winter. Atleast the weather isnt going to be an added factor of irritation, although mostly, being stuck with smoke and dust all around cannot be pleasant one bit. But it almost gets unbearable on a bright summer sunny day when the traffic refuses to move and no one knows the hell why.
Sitting inside an air conditioned vehicle, life seems simple, life seems easy. I do not think anyone inside an AC sedan has any right to complain about the horrible traffic conditions unless:
b)she’s pregnant AND her water broke.
c)someone he/she knows is dying.
d)is going to miss a flight/train/bus/ship/flying saucer, etc.
A person complaining how she is getting late for a mani-pedi trip or for some party, because of which her makeup is wearing off deserves not to get her ears blocked, but people like these should not be allowed on the roads. Because beside your Hyundai Sonata is a bus where people are getting late for say, more important things like a doctors appointment and are sweating profusely and not complaining.
The first post is always meant to be the awkward post. It is that post where the one writing begins to put themselves in a position where the cyber world would judge what sort of a person he/she is based on what he/she writes. And then we’re taught, “Never Judge a Book by its cover.” If one writes about jokes, it is said that he/she runs a funny blog. If one writes about philosophy, its a blog like thought catalog. If one writes about their favorite idols/singer/movie/anime he/she is said to be a fangirl/boy. So what is someone called who writes about most of all of this? A wannabe. Although I have called other people this, I refuse to be a part of it. A person could have varied tastes and choices, is that bad when I could pen down about all those things. Definitely not.
Now, I happen to be a student of law, studying in one of the prestigious law schools in my country. So does that make me sharper from the rest? Maybe. Smarter from the rest? Definitely not. So I have this friend who is a typical know it all. When I say know it all, I mean know it all. He knows everything about everything. Even borderline about law. Others may be annoyed by that, by I’m awed by the fact that he can manage to balance his life and still crave for that extra bit of knowledge. Although in my defense, I would state that I am a law student and being one, there is always a paucity of time for me. But when I while away the time that’s on my hand, procrastinating or not even taxing my brain to do that little bit, I could take that little time and ponder on more substantive things. So the main purpose of creating this little part of me here is to let that little bit of creativity live and not die a painful death among books of Constitutional Law and Contracts Law.