coffee with ambre

I tell Ambre that her handicap is that she's a woman. She wants to be mad, but it's me so how could you be? Besides, it's all a joke. After all she's only a girl. And so that's exactly what I tell her- that she's a kid.

She slaps me and begins to walk out. She's all red about it but she's not actually going to leave. She sits back down. "you're an ijiot" (yes, with a 'j'). It's funny because she can't even tell me off with out being juvenile.


But, you know it is all just a joke. A fine joke.

Most women lie about themselves and to them selves. That's what women do, that's their handicap. So I would just love it to be true for her but it's really not. I get the feeling that she's strait forward with her self and unfortunately I like that. There is nothing more I would love than to believe that she's just another plastic facade over a dumb pile of rocks.

What makes it funny is that I couldn't just say something nice. What makes it funny is that I'm a jerk and the only way I can give her a compliment is via insult. It's fucking hilarious that the only straw I have to grasp is her youthful demeanor, as if that's such a bad thing.

So what was my point? I can't think of a way to say it now, but now she's reading and I'm sitting here writing. And that's fine.