gal-palsyndrome

i am beginning to hate phone calls.
the dial tone. the annoying buzzy staticky caller ring tone.
i never had a caller ring tone before
because why am i giving out money for other people's entertainment?
if they want to hear music, turn up the damn radio, for all i care.
and they are staticky like hell.
i hate caller ring tones especially if they play
sappy love songs like neyo or kelly clarkson
or celine dion.
oh god.
anything but celine dion.

phone calls make you think-

oh wait what am i going on about?
it doesn't make you think
it makes you talk
for two hours straight
about absolute nothing
and he isn't your boyfriend to begin with!
he is nothing! nothing! not even friends with freaking benefits!
he won't give you any!
ok alright, maybe he's not exactly nothing, per se...
but do you really want to pay 100+ bucks per month
for a guy who drools gapes gushes
about other girls to you?
where is your self-respect, girlfriend?

what have i done to myself?
honestly.
what??
i have turned into a teenage aunt thelma.
i am your psychiatrist.
it's ok.
i actually wanted to be a real psychiatrist before.
but what i really don't want to be
is to be

a gal pal.

yes, that's right.
this phenomenon strikes close to home.
i get phone calls smses emails msn messages
with boys who have fallen
'tragically'
in love with my girls.
first, it's awwwww....
now, it's shit, this same old drama again?

different boys, different girls
same routine.
boy - crazy madly in love because she is so 'hawt' and 'not like other girls'
girl - is in love with some older and distant guy, a senior, college kid, pizza delivery boy etc.
me - you can do it! just tell her how you feel! flowers! give her flowers! call her! make her feel the center of the effing universe!!!!!!

and as tragedy goes, nothing happens.
and at the same time, my own love life isn't spawning.
where is my tragic-loving boys?
maybe i should fall for the pizza delivary boys?
love is ironic like that.

when i enter college, i won't be that gal pal anymore.
i won't give tips.
won't budge.
WON'T GIVE AN AWWWWWW FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
YOU WANT HER?
BE A MAN AND GET HER YOURSELF.
I DON'T CARE. WATCH ME NOT CARING.

and maybe if i stop having and receiving phone calls
then
you would stop gushing about them.

at least i ain't there to hear it.

-- this is in no way DIRECTED TO ANYBODY! hahah. i actually thought it's kinda funny. and yeah, i get this gal-pal syndrome A LOT. it's kinda sickening but i am so wisened from it now. but i have to confess that this idea was actually stemmed from frustration. but when i blog it out, it got kinda funny instead so let's not take it seriously, shall we?