I am the bionic woman, I am a robot. I can certainly dish it out my fair share of psycho babble bullshit, but now the inside is totally hollow.
I had a heart to heart with my beautician yesterday. I had to impart some of my therapy wisdom on her because she was going through it.
Long story, very, very short. She's a pretty girl, she's also a very nice girl, she's also a very good beautician, as a result she gets a lot of clients. She gets hated on. Very openly, by her co-workers, and others, a lot. I see it. Certain women know what I'm talking about. Women who have little to no female friends. If they do its usually women they have known for a long ass time. Women who have jobs (careers) that make good money, who have ambition to do more. Women who don't have a thousand men calling them on their cell phones, who don't have unecessary drama with the men they are with, and who are perfectly happy in a stable, monogamous relationship. I know who you are, and I feel you.
Once again, it's the shithole that I live in. A lot of women, not all of them, both black and white, have nothing for real going on. Their livelihood is the men that they're with or the men they're trying to get. If they have no men, it's all about being with "family", if it's not the "family", its got something to do with getting more involved in the "church." (Ugh, more about religious hyprocrites later, that's a book).
Also, because its mini-shithole, everybody knows everybody. My male friend's cousin works at my job. She's the attention whole I has previously spoken about. They ran into each other yesterday. Apparently, the consenus around the office (by the females) is that I'm weird.
This didn't piss me off, promise. I just found it really fascinating.
Continuing on with subtext of the conversation, I was told that I don't really say very much. No one really knows that much about my personal business, apparently I'm really good at my job but I keep it a secret, and of course, she doesn't have a boyfriend. Because God knows, if you don't have a man you're a freak of nature.
Keep in mind all the women at my job are "married". By "married", I mean they are legally or common-law bound to trifling men. I have met all of the betrothed several times, except for attention-whore's, and just going by their personalities alone, if was set up on a blind date with any of them, I would have taken a very long trip to the bathroom.
I thought you weren't supposed to tell any of your personal business? I thought you weren't supposed to brag about how smart you are? I also thought you weren't supposed to be with anyone unless you wanted to be? Maybe I'm crazy, I guess this just means I'm not.
Getting back to my beautician, I basically told her that I have had several experiences with women in Tuscaloosa, 9+ years (adding the story about the ghetto fighting work bitch who I had to throw out my car after making a very strong pass at me), and basically they are crazy. Adding, that my own mother hates on me and my sister. It doesn't mean anything except that you're doing something right.
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