The worst thing to ask a woman



It’s been ages since I went on a date. For a long time, I’ve shyed away from dating and just kept it on a level of “seeing each other”. As in having sex, spooning a little and throwing the guy out before I fall asleep. It’s epic. I get the fun part and I get to¬†wake up alone. Fantastic.

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How did you find me?

It’s been almost a year and me posting now is completely impromptu. I haven’t posted in 11 months, but I still get hits. Quite a lot of them. It puzzles me, so here’s me asking to you reading this;

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The entry where I polish my halo … or maybe, the entry that was boring as fuck.

I’m not sure any of this is interesting at all to anyone aside from those very close to me. But writing has always been a way for me to deal with shit. Or put things away. File it under ‘case closed’ in my brain. So here goes something, that most of all is written for me.

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This would be where the beta is too strong, and I give up.

As most of you know, I’m divorced. From a sweet, sweet man, who just so happens to a beta. Beta plus…

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So hi!

I’m still here.

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Mission: Unscramble brain.

… Preferrably a big one.

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What am I?

Welcome to Feminism. If you leave your dresses and heels, your grace, your gentle heart and your long hair at the door, Skrillex there *points to military booted, gnarly looking woman* will follow you in.

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Looks like I’ve been headhunted.

I swear, sometimes the world works in mysterious ways.

The last year or so, my dedication and energy at the job has slowly gone downhill. I’ve been here 6,5 years, learned everything I know about this industry. I was a very young, doeeyed girl, when I started here.

Last week, I was reading, how she was offered another job, got a raise and better terms, not imagining it’d happen to me days after. And just last week, I was annoyed with some work here, and I thought ‘God, can’t I just get out of these kinds of tasks, and just do the part I rock at?’

Tuesday I got a call. Wednesday I had an interview. And wednesday they asked me to join them – and I said yes.

I’m baffled and counting my lucky stars that I landed a new job where I can do what I do best and negotiated a 24,5% raise and a much better bonus. Excited and proud. And even though I wont become a millionaire, it’ll be a big difference for a one-income household.

I’m also scared to death. Taking the leap is nervewrecking, especially when there’s no other income at home if the unthinkable happens, and it doesnt work out. Oh, and I’m kinda afraid I wont live up to their expectations…

The whole decision and the fact that I did it, keeps emerging in my thoughts every 3 minutes, and I think to myself ‘Oh my God, what have I done?!’

But at the end of the day… I didnt get to where I am today without taking chances. Remembering to sometimes move out of the comfort zone and -always- being true to myself has always been important to me. But boy… It’s big. And exciting. And big! And I’m feeling confident, but also kinda small.

Wish me luck, guys? *in need of a smiley doing a shy smile*

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The fact, that you guys out there…

… Comes here to read the ramblings I put up every now and then honestly humbles me. But some of you also make me laugh, smile or raise an eyebrow, when seeing -how- you found my little spot, here on the web. So when DarlingDoll over on posted some of her more unusual search terms hits and asked me to post mine … I thought I’d share the (almost) unedited list. Enjoy!

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Sure. A man would so read that. Right after he painted his nails…

Commercial for a telephone company. Was only watching with half an eye, but basically it showed a couple sitting in a sofa, him reading, didn’t see what she was doing other than sitting in the other end of the couch.

What was he reading, you say? ‘Bake with quinoa’.

‘Bake with quinoa’!

Seriously, is this what they think will arise a desire to buy? Excuse me a second while I laugh. No man, not even in feministic society like Scandinavia, will want to identify with a man reading ‘Bake with quinoa’.

My God, I hate metrosexualism and what feminism has become.

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