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1:44 p.m. : 2002-02-25 : The New Cavepeople and More Things to Eat

Passive aggressiveness annoys the shit out of me. I guess, sometimes, it�s the only way people have to act out when they�ve tried everything else. You can push an issue, push and push to try to bend it your way, but if there�s another human involved there is a great chance you just might not get your way. Sometimes people can be manipulated into doing things but it�s never really what they want to do, so it�s never real and leaves you standing on the precipice waiting for the other shoe (or poo) to drop. Hence the panic and emotional constipation. I mean, thousands of relationships mid-century (as it was in the beginning, is now and every shall be) have been based on that old caveman and cavewoman scenario where he clubs her over the head and drags her by her hair. If that isn�t a lovely courtship� anyway, the point is, many women have been whacked in lieu of wooing and just go along with it because it�s easier than being whacked again. What they don�t realize, maybe, is that a lifetime of whacking is in store, just to escape the initial whack they might feel from saying no. So now, my friends, we are in the year 2002! Woo woo! And sometimes some of us are a little wiser and actually notice ourselves saying yes when we mean no� and sometimes even say no when we don�t want to do something� what a concept! So one day a whacker tried to whack and the prospective whackee said, �no, thank you sir, I would not like another,� and the whacker had to be more creative, like in Kids when a drunken skinny boy is trying to get with a fat girl and says again and again, �I�ll buy you dinners.� Obviously the skinny boy was unsuccessful (and I guess that�s not really a good example of passive aggressiveness. Passive agressiveness is more like when someone says, �You don�t want to do that,� but mean, "I don't you to do that.") But the whackers will continue to try to whack and try to find other ways to get what they want, more and more unconsciously and eventually it�s hanging out of their pants and the whackee can easily point to it and say, �um, there it is! That�s what it�s about!� Heehee�

I bought bananas for Bananas Foster, a dessert of New Orleans fame, named for its creator in 1951, Richard Foster, of Brennan�s Restaurant. It was yummy. It�s like the perfect dessert that seems really classy but is super easy. Anything that lights on fire(it�s made with rum which you ignite at the end) dazzles Americans and will impress any boyfriend, girlfriend or parent of boy/girlfriend (unless they�re Mormons, because of the rum). So I had a bunch of bananas left over which started to get really ripe. So I made chocolate chip banana bread, which has been sitting in my microwave wrapped in tin foil getting stale. So now maybe it�s time to make banana bread pudding. Or I could make bananas foster bread pudding. Me so domestic! I guess women still cook to feel better. I feel like making a big pink cake with a female sign on the top and sending it to my dad... maybe even two female signs linked together... but that would just make him think I was actually a lesbian and I merely want to see the shock on his face if he thought I was one... not live a lifetime of the effect of him thinking I was. It would be one thing if I really was into women--then it would make more sense to put it in his face. But I'm not. I just kind of want him to feel the effect of it. Is that crazy? I'm not in highschool anymore--stuff for shock value doesn't really work. I mean, the woman he's dating looks like a hooker. Not much I can do will shock him, except that everything seems to be a double standard anyway. So as far as the cake thing goes, that was kind of a dumb idea. It's still a cake; something for eating and enjoying. A physical object of endearment. Speaking of which, my Granny is supposed to send me cookies. She rocks. I love her.

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