The Finality of the Click

I think I've finally recovered from the Vegas weekend of fun and debauchery. I really needed to take yesterday to regrow braincells and such. I think I was successful. I think. Therefore I am. Yup, smart again.

So, I had a full blog entry all written and then something happened and I erased it all. And I begin again.

There are three phrases in the English language that absolutely infuriate me (and this is NOT PMS talking), in no particular order of my hateness:
1. "Whatever";
2. "I don't give a shit" (the Brits say "I don't give a toss");
and
3. "Relax".

All three of those phrases make me go from 0 to 60 in less than 2 seconds. My ears begin to blow out steam, my head begins to explode and I want to bust out a serious roundkick onto the perpetrators head.

But let me back up a smidge to explain what caused the massive blog erase, re-write and high blood pressure.

Charlie (who continues to linger - yes, yes, I've allowed it) called me this morning AT WORK to say to me, "Ever since you got back from Vegas you've been totally different and not your normal lovely self." He continued to state that my behaviors have been "bitchy" and "short", again, "since getting back from Vegas". Now, because I have an IQ over 50, I pick up on the insinuation that something happened in Vegas that is causing me to be "bitchy" and "short" towards him. So, I clearly state, "Nothing happened in Vegas."

And then it came out. He said, and I quote, "Whatever. Relax. I don't give a toss even if something did."

[Pause for massive head explosion.] How the f- is it possible for ONE HUMAN BEING to get all three phrases into one breath?! I swear to you, the light finally went on and I DEFINITELY did not react in my "lovely self": I believe it was almost an out-of-body experience (or maybe that was the margarita at lunch).

But, my response was simple and, considering my partially-psychotic frame of mind from the use of the trio-smackdown, mature. I said, "Well, if you don't 'give a toss', then there's no purpose to this conversation." CLICK.

TWO SNAPS, SISTA'!! (Sorry, went into gay-man mode for a moment.)

Although I've never condoned or perpetuated the "click", I must say, it's awfully empowering. (Insert my evil laugh here.) It's almost as though to make a point clear to a man (particularly stubborn ones like Charlie), you have to be rude and not your "lovely self". How stupid.

I always hear men complain that "women only want bad boys" or "women only want men who treat them like shit". But, let's be honest, there's a strange, mutated gene in ALL of us (dudes and chicks alike) that enables us to be far more patient with people of the attracted sex then normal - the "pushover" gene. But, as it was made clear to me today (yes, I know I've said this before - but I mean it this time. Shut up, Mark and Will) there IS a point of no return. Or, as I've dubbed it: The Point of "Click". There's no going back on the "click". One day you just realize that there are people out there that are better for you and that the "good guy" or "good girl" is actually the one you want.

And to be honest? After everything I've done and put up with, and the use of the trio smackdown by him today, and, OF COURSE, my impending marriage to Boot Scoot:

I - DON'T - GIVE - A - TOSS.