Fool Me Once, Shame On You. Fool Me Twice, Prepare to Die

I have come to the conclusion that there are only two things I know for certain guys are good for: pushing swings and killing insects.

The thing about Marlon is, I find him not entirely dissimilar to me. This guy is like the testosterone version of me, and Im the testosterone version of me, so its really weird. Its like being with more of myself. Who I love is who I am when I am with him. Its me having an excuse to just do myself one more time, proving once again that Im bright and Im funny and Im powerful and that I can. Youd think Ive had enough of myself.

I am amazed at how such an unnoticeable guy can be top one in class. This semester, he topped the final exams in all subjects! Him! The guy who was second to me in the Law Entrance Exams! I find myself so incredibly fascinated by everything about him. Everything, even the way he sometimes wears his sunglasses. Long slick black glasses, the kind Ferrari would make if they went into the sunglass business.

Women are like a litmus test with him. If his dick ever comes out of a girl blue, then he knows hes found himself a girlfriend. Yes, this is the same Marlon I had my fraternity brothers beat up a few months ago for playing me. I guess the question would be, why am I putting myself through this again? What can I say? Its like with lightning never striking the same spot. I figure if with him, fate wont think of looking for me in the same place twice. Oh, but he should maybe know, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, prepare to die.

I know, I know. . . you guys dont approve. And I know thats only because you care about me, but really, Im in no danger. Think of him as. . . a hobby. . . my favorite pastime. I am one of those unfortunate women who do not find nice men interesting. I find the undesirables desirable. *Interesting* means *problems,* and I dont even think *this time its going to be different* anymore. I think *this time itll be the same, in a different way.*

I have been genetically tampered with so that I find I am only attracted to assholes. And you know what I do with good guys? What I do, is I start to find fault with them. Its not that I find fault with them really. Its the Sleeping Not So Jolly Giant in my system who wakes up with a Fe Fi Fo Fum! and says, *Yecchh! Look at that shirt. Does he think its cute that he dresses like a U.P. Fine Arts student?* The Sleeping Not So Jolly Giant knows no pity and is hungry for faults, he hunts them like Easter eggs. But this isnt me, its the Giant that does this. I like good guys, I really do. I feel bad that the Giant does this. Theres something in me that wants to warn them Please dont have faults, like people can help it. And the thing is, I truly - the Sleeping Giant doesnt - but I truly care about good guys.

He sez hes always had a crush on me since way back in our freshman year and that he used to sit in the row behind mine in class and breath in lungful after lungful of my perfume. That, or he would spend his time putting tiny pieces of paper in my hair when I didnt notice. Yep, Law students do that too. The thing of it was, he never got around to introducing himself to me until Junior year, so until then, he stayed yet another nameless faceless person hovering around at the periphery of my universe. This guy. . . I dunno. . . he makes me feel like a godess. A GODDESS! What girl doesnt wanna be treated like a goddess? I think the clincher was when at one point after I became aware of his existence such as it was, I thought I felt him moving away, which of course instantly made him incredibly attractive. Its like when I was younger and I used to fall in love with homosexuals, because they had rejected me before they even met me. Good guys dont reject you, but they accept you in a rejecting way, so its similar.

Sometimes I think all I want is to find a mean guy and make him be nice to me. Or maybe a nice guy whos a little mean to me. But theyre usually too nice too soon or too mean too long. . .