12.01.04

Last evening, as I walked to the train stop, I ran into a guy that I knew from school. We chatted for a few minutes, and he said that he'd read my poem, Power, in Ephemeris. He liked it (thank goodness). I got an e-mail from him today that had a lovely compliment. It said,
"I like your poem in Ephermeris about not knowing or realizing your female power/influence like other girls did (still do). You seem to be blessed with a straightforwardness."
He also mentioned that he wasn't trying anything, that he knew I had someone. Maybe I'm naive, but the thought that he might have had an ulterior motive didn't cross my mind until I read that in his post script.

I'm not very clever when it comes to that sort of thing. I did enjoy the bit about being straightforward. I'd rather be damned for being myself, than for being some false-fronted cretin with schemes and webs of deceit.

A couple of weeks ago, while talking with another woman at OLI, we decided that as much as men might profess to like intelligent women, they really don't. We're like exotic creatures, to be stalked and mounted, then discarded.

Another (male) friend mentioned once that men, poor creatures, are so frail of ego that they can't handle the competition. I hate to think that's true, but I'm beginning to wonder.

Back one. ||||| Forward one.