EXASPERATED... AND IN NEED OF ENLIGHTENMENT

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You would think that after living 32 years of my life surrounded by women (by that I meant I live with my mother and three sisters.... not that I live in a harem of beautiful women. That's a different story... for a different website), I would have figured out the female species - their thoughts, their motivations, their state of mind and how they communicate.

But I recently realized that... I don't. Not a clue.

Now... I hope the women who read the above don't go on a rant and get into a gender debate about who's truly at fault or why men can't understand simple things or start illustrating to me the subtle differences between constant repetitive reminders and nagging. That's not my intention... (though I wouldn't mind the increase in traffic to my blog due to this heated debate... even if it is from irate women).

My intention here is to seek enlightenment. I was given the cold shoulder since last week by the women in my family and I still have no clue as to why that is. After 32 years, I realize that all my efforts in trying to figure women out (which I thought was finally bearing some irrefutable, concrete answers) has come to a naught.

Thing is, I'm pretty sure it was my fault. Problem is... I don't know what I did wrong. Women expect men to pick up subtle cues they're giving out and figure out what we did wrong by ourselves. The sad thing is... we can't. We can figure out how to fly (after a few botched attempts by Icarus and the other dumbasses over the centuries), we can figure out how to put our asses into outer space... heck, men could even figure out how to build huge stone pyramids and great walls without heavy machinery and precision equipment.

But tell us to figure out what we did wrong is like asking Mr Bush to show us where the weapons of mass destruction are in Iraq... we won't have a clue. And what's worse than not having a clue? It is THINKING we have a clue, taking action based on what we think is right then realizing that we got it all wrong.

So all I'm asking is for women to tell me exactly what they're angry about. That's all. You can leave me a post-it, fax it to my office, email it to me and even text me a message to my mobile. Whether if it is something I did wrong... or if it is that time of the month and you don't feel like talking... or even if it's because they hate the unruly, stubbled look that I'm keeping (eventhough I think it makes me look ruggedly handsome)... all I ask is for you to let me know what's inside your head.

Enlighten me. Please.