My high school teachers, my schoolmates, my best friend, and even my own mother will tell you that I am a confounding mess of contradictions and, interesting though it might make me, this dychotomy can also be extremely frustrating to deal with, particularly when it acts as a roadblock, standing between where I need to go and where I actually want to be. Correction; roadblock isn't quite right. A more fitting analogy would be to imagine a giant fork in the middle of a road, with a dirty, sweltering metropolis on one side, and a hippy commune on the other.
Most liberal-minded single women of my age and disposition would flick the indicator to the left, and cruise down that humble looking little dirt road in search of a fellow free thinking peace monger, only of the male variety, with whom to sing acoustic guitar ballads on the porch and make love in a daisy field. I more often than not tend make a hard right, with no warning whatsoever, and scream through the city streets with a thousand watt spotlight mounted on the hood of my car, scouring underground taverns for the most arrogant, smart-arsed, right-radical mouthpiece I can find, just because my brain wants me to do the opposite.
Maybe it's the rebel in me, but despite my left wing, fair's fair leanings, it's the guys who I know I'm going to spend most of my time screaming with righteous indignation at that really push my buttons, (the fun buttons). If you were to line up my boyfriends thus far and make them sit a personality test, their compatability scores with me would be on par with Sarah Palin's presidential suitability rating. Now, every time I enter into something with one of these guys, I know it isn't going to end well - the most I can ever usually hope to get out of these trists is mind-blowing post-tyrade sex which, spectacular as it is, doesn't last; so why do I keep making the same mistake?
Shouldn't I know better at my age?
The answer is yes, I should, and I will learn my lesson one day.
But for now I'm cutting class to Skype with a hot guy in his twenties who plays guitar like the devil and thinks socialists are Commies.
It's fun because I know it's wrong.
Hey, I'm not dead yet.