Boys Are Stupid!!!

Reading Hope's blog and battling with my own personal frustrations, I put on a T shirt this morning that I bought when I got dumped by my first
boyfriend after a short and extremely confusing liaison. It says "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them" and it still stands today.

Really, boys, what is with you? We're not that hard to operate you know! Read this article, this guy worked out exactly what women want from his 2 year old niece. READ IT!! It really is that simple you morons!!!! Man I wish I could go into details but I can't because I'm not one to discuss such matters out in the open. Suffice to say if you dropped by to pay me a visit you'd probably find me getting rid of cobwebs in lofty corners to garner something positive out of all this wall climbing I'm doing lately. Or doing the world a favour and saving water by doing my laundry with my tears of frustration.

Oh I can't blame it all on men. It's my fault too. As of late I've entered one of my temporary depressive phases as I've realised that maybe at My Age, it's time to let go of some of my more whacky life ambitions. One lifetime won't be enough to do them. One lifetime won't even be enough to do the serious ambitions I have.

With a heavy heart, this is what I am resigning to the scrap heap. Some of these are decades old, some are more recent. All of them were things that a part of me really believed I'd do at one time or another:

1. Be America's Next Top Model. On weekends in London I used to walk around, walking tall, in case a half-blind model scout with no sense of height perception spotted me and decided I would be the next big thing. Swan around in clothes all day for money, how easy. I could do that! I could have done that! I'll never do it.

2. Be a top latin dance star. There is nothing in the world that gives me a sense of release (well, at least lately) like dancing does. Most peoples' lasting memory of me from uni days is That Girl Who Was Always Dancing. I can't watch dance competitions without my adrenaline shooting through the roof. "I could so do that!" I say to myself. I've been saying that since I was 19. Now I'm nearly 26. I never bothered taking the salsa lessons. It's probably too late to start now. Still, perhaps I'll buy myself the costumes to wear. I only really ever wanted to do it for those amazing costumes.

3. Be editor of the Guardian. I love to write. But I don't love it enough to make it my entire focus 24/7. Hence the Guardian editorship shall never be mine.

4. Get chased by famous people wanting to be my friend, I mean begging to be pals with me. Give me a break, like I said some of these are really old ambitions.

5. Becoming really good friends with someone who I had no idea was world famous. It seemed like fun at the time.

6. Learn Persian and Arabic. One of the two might be possible, but there's next to no chance of me having the time or motivation to learn both. I can't even speak Greek properly yet!

7. Start singing one day and people to say to me, "Wow, Bollybutton, you're an amaaaazing singer." I can't sing at all, I'm not being modest. One's ambitions should not overshoot one's abilities.

8. Be an astronaut. I love the stars, the universe, the galaxies and curse my total incompetence at maths. Maybe I could have realised that ambition. So instead I'll get myself shot out into space when I die. Good compromise, no?

Remember when we were little, if someone asked us what we'd like to do when we grow up, we rattled off four or five options which we planned on doing all at the same time, and it seemed totally logical. All that time and possibility stretched before you. Where does it all go?

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