February 7th, 2001

Ok, so my weekend wasn't so great, that doesn't mean my life has to be over, or does it?

I swore to myself that I wouldn't rant about this kindof thing, but I seem to have done so already in monday's rant... So I think I'll spend this rant talking about women. More specifically, why it is that I believe them to be the source of all evil in my world.

It's not like I think women are inferior to men, or that I'm an elitist homosexual, but it's just that I happen to have caligynephobia(fear of beautiful women, also venustraphobia), gynephobia(fear of women) or something. It's not like I can't talk to them, or that I don't have any female friends, or that I secretly hide in my room and download pr0n all day... um, banish that last one from your mind, I never said that. It's more that when a member of the female persuasion smiles at me, or says, "Hey SMiH!" with that little edge of genuinely-happy-to-see-you put into it, my ears melt off, I lose most basic motor functions, and my intelligence level is reduced to that of the sum total of the audience at a Jerry Springer show. And this is just random people off the street! It's nearly impossible for anyone to imagine what it's like for me to even try and get out and date.

Which brings me to my next point. Women seem to know that they have this extremely adverse effect on me, and they seem to delight in finding embarrassing ways to disconcert me. If it's not just setting me up for a humorous stumble on my way to class, it's an attempt to see how red my ears will turn. Thankfully it hasn't gone as far as smiling to me as I cross the street, or when I'm riding my bike. I might not survive such an incident, or I would be terribly maimed, and my grandmother would chide me, "and you didn't even get her number as you lay there with your arms skewed out in terribly unnatural directions? Tsk tsk tsk..." Gotta love my grandma, she's the greatest.

And who was this fool that invented "courting?" This haphazard way of getting a date seems so marvelously simple in those darling romantic comedies. If you're a male, you just see some girl you like, and do one of two things: 1) Find some sort of tragedy to share, like a plane crash, a killer wombat on the loose, a flat tire, or even a tragic case of fashion don'ts. or 2) Moan on and on about how crappy your life is while dating someone you secretly have no feelings for in the hopes that everything will work out. Now as I personally have trouble getting a date at all, option two seems to be right out. Number one seems more likely, but since I'm the only person with a chronic case of bad fashion sense, and that the wombats seem to have vanished along with my roommate's Concorde jet and my car, I don't think that's an option either.

I guess my only option left is to talk to the girl I like, and hope that my sheer wit, panache, social grace, and stunning physique will charm her into becoming my girlfriend. You're right, I should've tried to keep a straight face when I said that. Everyone knows that the only way to a woman's heart is to stalk her.

Seriously though, it's not only hard to just go up to her place, but if she's not there, her roommate looks at you with this look like "I know what you want, but I'm going to accidentally forget to pass your message along so that I can spite you and make your life a living stress hell." And this is only after showing up ten times in as many minutes or so trying to see whether she's in or not. I'm sure most of this animosity towards me is purely imagined, but really folks, you know you've thought about it. When your roommate's significant other (or someone you suspect is trying to become your roommate's significant other) comes over, you look at them with that "I know you'll just try to make nookie the minute I leave the room without my keys and damn me into eternal sexile from my own room."

Lord knows that I'm just worried that my roommate WON'T lock me out...

This is SMiH(I've got no chance in hades.) signing off.