Misunderstood

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.

My own boyfriend thinks I'm a superficial, bimbotic, materialistic airhead. FUCK.

Man, it feels good to cuss like a sailor. Look, I may act like a bimbo at times but I can't stop repeating in no uncertain terms that I'm NOT one. I enjoy the good life. I appreciate material goods. Who doesn't? I know what I want in life, a good, comfortable life, and I'm not ashamed of it. I enjoy a good time, I do not see the need to always be in a morose and "deep thought" mode 24/7. Just because you articulate all your thoughts and feel the need to be "intellectual" all the time doesn't make it the most desirable state to be in.

The world is painful enough as it is. You're faced with petty greivances, annoyances and general upsets in life EVERY SINGLE FREAKING DAY. MUST I BURDEN MYSELF WITH SERIOUS WORLD ISSUES AND WOULD THAT MAKE ME A BETTER PERSON?

Just because I find endless delight in retail therapy and take hedonistic pleasure in watching soppy movies does not make me a bimbo. I've had a tough week. I buy a pair of beautiful shoes and feel comforted. How does that equate to being a bimbo? Am I supposed to be constantly working on the formula for world peace? Curing cancer? Eliminating poverty? Creating a new life philosophy? Contemplating about the war in Iraq?

Good lord, man! Of course I'm bloody offended. Judge, judge, judge. I'm either too masculine and aggressive, or vapid and bimbotic. I can't win, I just can't. Is it any wonder why I sometimes hate the world so much I want to lock myself in my room and hope that the world would implode during my self-imposed exile?

Just because I love you doesn't give you the privilege the assail my character and make false judgments. Just because I love you doesn't give you the RIGHT to think less of me.

Fuck. Bloody geppers who think they're better than everyone else. (sorry Amanda!)