to fight or to flee?

for weeks now, my best friend and i have been texting each other all day, everyday. it’s not that we are obsessed with texting (i’m actually the laziest texter in the world), but we simply cannot find the time to see each other and talk face-to-face. what with our crazy work schedules and incessant life drama, not much else can be squeezed in.

just yesterday, after much complaining and contemplating on the topic of decoding “boy talk” (i know – it’s SO high school), she finally asked me, to fight or to flee? this of course referred to the guy she’s been fixated on for days and is apparently sending her mixed signals.

noticing the panic in her words, i decided to encourage her. i replied, in my most audacious SMS-tone: i find that i always fight, to the death. indeed, it rarely ends well; happily-ever-afters now seem more ludicrous than ever. but it’s true what they say – it’s better to have tried and failed than to never know. and i meant every word.

so it got me to think about other things, other aspects of my life. do i really always choose to fight? do i charge in, without hesitation, game-face on?

with fashion, for example, i know for a fact that i am always ready to go to war. when i step out the front door with whatever i am wearing, i’ll surely stand by it. even if it is a sack with armholes that i have paired with heels. come to think of it, where IS my sack?!