Thesis Of Irony

Ok, second blog for the night.

Well, this isn't my ideal topic for a conversation but it's something I've always been intrigued about discussing. Even if it's not quite the exemplary verbal discussion I'd have with anyone else but myself, it's something I've liked getting off my chest - using cyberspace, or even listening to my "girlfriends'" get it off their chests. Either way prepare yourself for whines and complaints, relationship shinanigans, monthly rage, boy problems, gossip (no, gossip. Sorry)... Anything teenage normalcy would include.

And as for the exaggeration, it's nothing much.

Though my blunt stereotyping puts my words and I on the verge of personal (be public even) criticism, I'm not quite the one to be fearing. I'm feeling pretty content, indifferent and slightly frustrated towards what I'm about to type. Brace yourselves...

What in the name of Huckleberry Finn is wrong with boys these days?

Mum and I are having constant one-sided debates on this topic. Is it some sort of genetic thing they've been inheriting since the prehistoric times which makes them constantly indecisive, or even just, frustrating to the female species? I know they get this problem with women too, oh believe me.

I can quite picture a Neanderthal couple beating each other with wooden clubs, having one of their daily 'lovers' quarrel' on who should be the one to start the fire for supper. Lady Neanderthal argues that she's the one who has to prepare for the food, cook it, then clean up after. Whereas Sir Neanderthal debates that he's the one who's been lifelong assigned to hunting their nightly feast since he's reached manhood at the age of 13; and that he's been tired after a long day. Lady Neanderthal then firmly states that if he doesn't start the fire, he's not getting any supper, and that she doesn't mind eating 'cause she's on some herbivore diet anyway. Lady Neanderthal wins.
For now.

And as much as I had just waffled on relating modern life to the Ice Age, we're really not all that different. Whatever the penis-bearing athropoids' problems may be (with the opposite, of course), varies, but a majority state that we're either too demanding and we "always get our way".
It entirely depends on the individual. Hypocrisy.

So my problem is that, there's this boy. And I have no idea as to what the hell he expects in life. As indecisive as I assume him to be, consciously or subconsciously, he continues to build a barrier between our path of communication. It's been going on for months, I'm sorry if I still haven't let this matter drop just yet. As much as it vexes the both of us, I can't bear to live life unknowingly. All I'm asking for is the reassurance. Nothing more.

I'm getting tired now.