Snickers and Ice-Water

Well it's midnight, Sunday, the end to a less than productive or relaxing weekend, and here I am, typing in yet another flow of thought.

After a marathon of a dozen or so "Sex and the City" episodes, and a quite successful cooking experience, I break my no-chocolate-bars diet with a more than happy heart. It seemed to me, after watching the plight of delicious anorexic women trying to land a guy to avoid boredom, that me trying to get into a shape less than "round" was not really going to help out when it came to the affairs of the heart. Hell if they couldn't be happy even after giving up food and any thought of a normal life, a long forgotten snicker bar (snuggled away in my usual back-pack) and a poor excuse for a drink (ice-water, for God's sake! A single woman with a drink does not have to mean it's a cosmopolitan or a Manhattan for that matter) found themselves in my hands.

My room-mates have long since fallen asleep and I'm the usual nocturnal creature, with the usual ton of thoughts on my mind. Too true when someone said, "Women often think too much, and understand very little." Well at least women are not like men, with minds like bridled horses, flaps over their eyes.

This brings me to think, not without Carrie's influence, the chinkle of ice cubes in my china mug and the taste of chocolate, whether women should stop thinking so much?

I mean, if we didn't worry about every single detail, and be pessimistic and consider every way that something can go wrong, who will and who can?

While the men are thinking toward live-in relationships and we are thinking of the family china, is it that difficult for men to commit (speaking of a majority -- every flock has it's black sheep)? When all they want is the love of a woman, why is it so hard for them to think of just one woman? When women are willing to commit to a relationship every so quickly, why is it so excruciating for a man to say "I love you"?

Mind you, this is in most of the cases. Women, put their heart out on the line hoping that someone will come, swoop them away to a fairy land where everyone lives happily after, and find their hearts crushed by a train on that very same line. Several times before someone can swoop them away, at least to Manhattan.

I'm starting to think that we women are the ones who are wrong. Maybe we should give in to being barbaric and everyone can live like monkeys, with the males "swinging this way and that."

More on this later...