..get dressed up, call some girlfriends, go out, and get stupid. Just for old time's sake. Nobody's inferiority issues/neurosis/tactical flaccidity to deal with, but my own (and I only have a touch of neurosis, personally, so that would be a treat). I still have that little outfit I wore yesterday. Or, I could wait around all night to be treated, finally, (loooong after the promised hour) to a whiny, simpering little defense to something that would not even have become a problem for 99.999999999 % of the human population (with testicles in tact), because these men have become familiar with the word NO, the phrase, YOU CRAZY, b***h, and the teqnique known as HANGIN UP ON DAT STUPID b*****s ASS. Tricky, tricky proposition (chews fingernail furtively) hmmmm...