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Detail from The Procession of the Trojan Horse...

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How is it that some of us single types can go along swimmingly in life, a spring in our step, courage of our convictions, even keeled, ducks in a row, etc., but then meet someone and everything goes to hell? Surely by a certain age we know better…or should know better than to let our guard down before we know the enemy is beaten. But that stupid Trojan horse shows up at the gate and you let him in anyway. You just know the enemy is inside but you let him in anyway. What the hell? You were bored, looking for some drama that’s what. No, no, no! Shoot first and ask questions later!

Wisdom out the door, blonde curls flying, bra on the outside of your shirt, lost keys in hand, you are done for.

I have watched as my married friends slowly decay in terrible unions. I have listened to my friends tales of woe about infidelity, financial shenanigans, heartache after heartache, confusion, self-doubt, weight gain, alcohol consumption, anger, therapy, and the road to salvation. And that’s just the men. The women have the same story, but they have to take care of the kids on top of that. Sad but true. Throughout all of it I have remained unscathed in comparison but have my own battle scars. One tries to remain optimistic, hopeful yet practical. Look at facts, not fiction. Deal with what you know to be true, not made up stories in your head that make you look like the last person on earth anyone would want to go out with.

Having made it through my own battles I had finally come to a place of mild contentment. I know nothing stays the same and that there will be good days and bad, and I take them as they come. I prepare for the bad days by staying in and not unleashing the beast within upon unsuspecting innocents. Only my family takes the brunt -as they should.

What do you see?

But I am not superhuman, nor am I a zombie. That little bastard Cupid was lurking behind a tree and shot me in the ass. But he did not use his love potion, he used the first draught, which is a mild concoction of self-doubt, and the tiniest drop of obsession (not by Calvin Klein).

Attraction is voodoo. It is a spell and it is not to be trusted. The antidote is quarantine. There is no other. Turn the phone off, stay away from the computer (especially if intoxicated), close the door, bolt it tightly and wait for at the very least 3 or 4 days. Maybe even a week. There will be a slight hangover but you will be fine. I am a professional and let me tell you, it’s the only way to survive with all your limbs and dignity.

Or in other words by Elvis Costello, “Little Triggers”

Little triggers that you pull with your tongue
Little triggers, I don’t wanna be hung up, strung up
When you don’t call up

Little sniggers on your lips
Little triggers in your grip
Little triggers–my hand on your hip

Thinkin’ all about those censored sequences
Worryin’ about the consequences
Waiting until I come to my senses
Better put it all in present tenses

Worryin’ about the common decency
When it is only a question of frequency
When you say OK but you’ve got cheek to be
Sayin’ you’re tired of me when you don’t even weaken these
Little sniggers on your lips
Little triggers in your grip
Little triggers–my hand on your hip

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