Cheesecake anyone?

This is odd. Contradicting even.

The fact that he is more than just a drive or a train ride away (Read: Million miles frm here), made him even more desirable than that cheesecake I've been craving for.

TVs and Me

The one main thing I love about television is that I could shut it off anytime I want.

Unlike humans.

And the darn tube remains shut until somebody grabs the remote (like as if he has every right to do so) and switch it on again.

What is PMS compared to the Male Ego

I was with a guy friend yesterday, sipping coffee, people watching and sharing our usual what-have-you(s) on each other's melodramatic lives. On normal occasions, this is something that I very much adore cause this particular breed of the male species, is one of the few rare ones who could put things in a perspective for me during moments where my brain when kaput. (Yes Qiddas, you are one of them too.)

But last night wasn't anywhere near normal. Firstly, my long black wasn't as hot as I wanted it to be and the cafe ran out of equal sugar. Secondly and most importantly, I suspect that my monthly visit with mother nature is due soon so hence the dreaded feeling of PMS (Some gals I know would never admit its PMS. I would. Cause blaming every other thing but myself is a birthright.)

Me being me, I warned him about my fluctuating moodswings and my irrepressible tendency to bite someone's head off.

And him being... well him, I was hit with this:

"PMS should be made into a legal pardonable excuse for murder. I mean, you women get away with almost everything don't you? "

Suppressing my desire to kick him in the shin, I said " There is no way this conversation is turning into one of those battle-of-the-sexes verbal banters. PMS does weird things to the hormones. Just live with it. And you know you have to."

With that he retort, " You don't hear guys saying, Hey its just my hormonal changes! to someone he just punched. "

" Yeah," I snapped, "but he would probably go 'He deserved it, that son-of-a-bitch!'. He then proceed to tumble some chairs and punch some mirrors after realizing that the poor bloke he punched was actually hitting on the girl beside his gf and not on his gf. That my friend, is what I call Men's ultimate downfall. The Huge EGO."

"Oh come on Dila. Machismo appeals to women more than anything else. And Ego is all in the package," he pointed a finger in my direction and purred, "Subconsciously, you women love an egoistical fascist. Especially one in bed."

With that, I bit my tongue. Cause I was that close to brandishing my colorful array of profanities that I've mastered for close to 2 decades now.

As much as I was hoping for a sudden brainwave of smart answers that could smitten him so much that he'll drop at my feet and lick my shoes, I knew for a fact that he might be right.

I'm not too sure how it would feel like to be bedded by an ego-maniac Hitler cause I never had one in my bed. Yet. But I am, pretty certain that machismo is one of the unfathomable factors that got women weak in their knees. (Think Brad Pitt in Troy!!) A male ego amplifies his machismo and reduce us otherwise sane women into drooling idiots.

Hell no was I going to admit that to him. I instead ended the conversation with a fake yawn and suggested that we should either get more coffee or get going. Fearing that he might have just tripped the wire of his lady counterpart who could easily blame PMS for murder, we left that place.

Ego? You bet.

That L word

Somehow or rather, I've made Nin believed that intimacy and affections of any kind is wasted on me. And that I would utter the L word (Yes its Love) only when there's 2 guns pointing to my head. Sheesh.

At this point may I remind her: "Hell woman! I need a canon aimed at my heart on top of the two guns at my head before I'd utter those words."

See my point is, that 4 letter word (L-O-V-E not Fuck. But still its all the same), in all of its glorious existence, it bites. Hard.

It then lifts you sky high and awaits the moment where your machismo hits rock bottom, before it drops you.

Before you think this as a contradiction of some sort, I am still for Love despite its constant mockery.

The only difference is that I don't usually call it by its name.

All my loving.

For all that its worth... I want you home. Cause if truth be told and pretences be gone, I miss you.

Ma absolute.