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Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Red Flags at Dawn...or anytime, really

Not to get all cryptic--and therefore, irritating--but I recently re-learned the (very) hard way, why it's bad to ignore red flags. Namely, because they're trying to tell you something! I met an interesting person, there was immediate chemistry...and some immediate red flags, but since I don't frequently meet such interesting people, I sort of muted that little voice in the back of my mind saying, "Bimbolina! Hello, are you paying attention to this nonsense? For reals, yo!" know the rest.
Drama blah blah stupidity blah cleavage blah blah irritating. Especially because he (Shut up. Come on: of course it's a boy I'm talking about. The Kitten needs me to open tins for him and give him nubbins, he's not going to dump me. Or, at least not till he finds some gainfully-employed lesbian, who won't re-name him 'Ceasar Chavez' and knit him a poncho. Probably not even then since: The Kitten hates the WNBA.) had, I swear to God, on his knapsack a button that read, "Don't get weird on me, babe." Do people still wear buttons? Really? I mean, I had some buttons on my bag when I was um in junior high school...but that was a while ago.
So, I don't mean to be unpleasant...despite it sometimes coming very naturally. No. My point is: red flags are there for a reason. Ignore them at your peril! Whether it's about a boy, a girl, a job, going to graduate school, that ruffled wedding gown, your Star Wars ring tone, those neck-length feather earrings, body glitter, jeggings, skinny jeans on a heterosexual boy, or voting for certain attention. I didn't...and look what happened to me. That sounds ominous, I know, but all-in-all, despite me having to explain to him what Twitter is, we had a lot of fun and since then I've had a number of other dates so: life continues. I'll be fine.  
(P.S.: Totally kidding about lesbians. Lesbians know I adore them! Don't protest me, or come out to Queens to occupy my block. You'd be bored.)

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