If you think this sounds bitter, you should see the real post I composed for today -- the one I am locking up in the vault. Suffice it to say that yesterday was rotten but enlightening, and, after unleashing my fury in a blog post that will remain, at least temporarily, for my eyes only, I made a sincere promise to myself to never fall for bullshit again. And I plan to reward myself with a trip -- to somewhere as yet undetermined, at some time in the near future, with somebody or not -- however it works out.
Yes, your faithful but extremely beaten up Jill is going to venture out and see the world, even if it means starting out slowly. My daughter has gotten me all jacked up about a road trip to Nashville, which might just be the perfect first stop on my world tour.
Nashville is the home of country music, which means that in the course of a short weekend there I might very well pick up some song titles and lyrics that strike a chord, and I'll stand a chance of realizing I'm not the only dope out there. Who knows? There might already be a cheerful little ditty titled: He Loves Me but He's Off to Europe with Someone Else, or maybe He Went to Italy and All I Got is this Lousy Sandwich. I'm sure there are plenty of men out there who claim to love one woman while traipsing across the pond with another (I alone know several), but this chump is mad as hell and isn't going to take it anymore.
After a warm-up in Nashville, I just might consider Paris. The city of lights, the city of romance -- albeit someone else's, the city with the best bread on the planet. Nothing quite compares to walking down a quaint Parisian street while sinking your teeth violently into one of those long loaves. Oh, lighten up fellas, sometimes a baguette is just a baguette.
Yes, I'm going to pack myself up and get the hell out of Dodge -- without regret, without guilt. To paraphrase the immortal words of the little engine that could, I think I can do it.
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