We are an army. We outnumber them but ironically, this is the fact that works against us and pits us against each other. Yes ladies, the official ratio as of current is 105 girls to 100 guys. It doesn’t look so bad, but this is without filtering out the gay and the clergy. The sooner you get over the fact, the better.
Here we are, armed with all the feel-good books and talk shows you can find for our growing market share. I can’t remember when I started the hunt for good chick-lit/old-maid fiction, one that will console me for what seems to be inevitable. I remember being pissed off at ones that had a good premise but sold-out in the end when the heroine magically finds the ever-elusive perfect guy that will love her unconditionally. Bah, humbug.
Here we are ladies, putting up the good fight. Believing that if we hold out, we will sooner or later meet the one who was worth the wait. This is while also believing that if we don’t find him, we’ll be okay because we were freaking awesome to begin with. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what’s worse — chasing a futile hope or catching yourself in a self-induced delusion.
And as always, this shall end as unresolved. Will get back to you after 50 years. Or 2012. Whichever comes last.
.: ishcapades 