Sex, Drugs and Narcissism

"curvy girl"

2008-05-15T20:14:00.003-05:00

My girl won America's Next Top Model. I don't have a good reason for wanting her to win- her pictures were totally mediocre and her face is so so pretty to the point of being saccharine. Wanting her to win is pure projection, cause I'm about her size (my boobs are bigger and my waist is smaller and my legs are shorter.... but whatever). Whitney rocked it out in that skimpy gladiator outfit, cause her body is hot, she's in shape. They'd had a girl they called plus sized who was just barely bigger than a sample size, and they'd had girls who would actually wear Lane Bryant. To call Whitney plus size kills me, and it must make her wanna cut a bitch, but ANTM wanted to play that card so good for her.

The judges stayed away from even talking about her size as long as they could, but they had to last night. And it came out sounding pretty level headed. "Whitney isn't a big girl, in the real world she's just a hot chick." "Whitney is the girl the man would want in bed with him, but Anya is the girl that makes you want to buy the dress."

Before I even realized it, I understood this, that as a girl with some curves, my body was put to its best use in bed. My body is an obstacle in most of my life- getting jeans to fit over my hips, getting blouses buttoned across my chest, trying to get through kickboxing or running in spite of my boobs. Any article of clothing I've tried on has highlighted the ways in which my body is different from what they intended. Unless it's lingerie. The few times I've found, and splurged on, a bra that comes in 32 DDD, a weight has literally been lifted. But asthetically, my body makes more sense naked. I've thought for a while that this contributes to why I'm often more comfortable naked, why I don't hesitate in my pursuit of sex, even with guys I don't know all that well. I know that's where I perform best, and of course I'd rather someone see me in my element.

This would be perfectly fine, except that along with this message that I'm best suited for sex more than anything else comes with the message that I am no where near the conventional ideal of beauty. It's hard to know that, while most guys you meet want to fuck you, few would admit to it and even fewer would consider you someone who could be a girlfriend.

I think this is the most deplorable personality trait in guys, to want something in a girl when you're having sex that makes you think less of her, whether it's fetishizing big tits while you only date tiny flat girls because you think it makes you look good, or having less respect for a girl for "letting you" do something your last girlfriend wouldn't or for actually wanting to have sex with you. Something is wrong when guys are ashamed of what they are attracted to, when it's such a biologically normal thing.

2008-05-12T18:35:00.002-05:00

So I think it's pretty likely that I'll go see the Sex and the City movie. And even though I'll talk a lot of shit about it, I will totally cry. I'm a sucker for the girl movie with the group of friends... Now and Then comes to mind. The real draw is the fantasy of the show was the support group of girlfriends, who always made time for each other and never grew apart or had to move or reached the point where their drastically different values and lifestyles weren't compatible. The fact that these four women who were all, in their own ways, had pretty miserable personalities, and whose charater defects seem like the exact ways to push one another's buttons, just laughed and shopped and talked about boys. I mean, why would anyone be friends with Carrie? I've prefered to look at the four women as dimensions of a person.

But all the noise about how the show allowed women to talk about sex drives me crazy. They didn't really talk about sex so much... they talked about comittment issues and date ettiquiete and meeting men and the stages a relationship goes through and fundemental differences between men and women and reasons a relationship falls apart and break ups and moving on and what we learn from a relationship. It's a stretch to call this "talking about sex." It was mentioned and in the conversation but it wasn't the topic, it was just a joke to make. "A tea bag problem? Oh just breath through your nose hahaha." That conversation was about housekeeping. Whenever there was any topic that wasn't mainstream- Carrie goes out with a bisexual guy, Carrie is sleeping with a guy that wants to pee on her, Samantha has a threesome...it just sort of happend and isn't developed as an idea or as a plot and it's over. Carrie says nope I just can't date that guy because he's bi, and this is never challenged as maybe being narrowminded. She's working toward letting the guy pee on her but then he breaks up with her before it's developed (and that's odd, right? A bisexual guy is a deal breaker but pissing on people is not?)

The show's not about sex. It's about girls, which is fine. I want to call it out on the fact that the girls talk about relationship issues and call it talking about sex, but I can't hold that against them. Talking about sex is fun, but I don't feel the need to talk about it much with my girl friends... it's nice to compare, but I'm sort of done talking about it quickly. A conversation about a fight I had with my boyfriend would just last longer. There is more to talk about. I try not to talk about sex these days cause i just end up talking about how great it is. If it's good there's nothing to talk about. Maybe it's because my girl friends are all very different from me, but I feel like my sex life isn't relevant to them. I don't talk about my research in chemistry with my friend who's an elementry school teacher. I guess I haven't had much in common with any of my friends regarding sex since high school. At that point we were...all in the same situation. Since then any development or learning has been my own, or shared with the guy. Talking about it too much trivializes it and takes away the allure.

the Girl Movie model is really fun and I always enjoy that stuff, but honnestly I can't handle that shit in real life. Yeah the girls spent all their time talking about their boyfriends, but those relationships seemed less important to them than their being part of the group. I've beleived, for quite a while now, that you should never ever take your girl friends' advice about a guy. They can be a sounding board or a support but the advice girls have given me has always been shitty.

2008-05-06T21:33:00.002-05:00

Some where I got the impression that casual, care free hook ups were hot and sexy and long term relationship sex was tedious and dull. Who came up with this? Sometimes I think maybe I'm special because initially I had fucked him with abandon, saying whatever vivid vulgar shit popped into my head and generally being a slutty slutty slut-whore from whortopia who is not apologizing for it. It was really fun.

I never have been able to be shy about wanting this boy. Seriously, I wouldn't be fooling anyone. I like crawling on my hads and knees over to him and looking up with those big eyes begging him to unzip and pull his cock out. The huge grin across my face is unintentional. I'm more excited every time, and I love trying to top what I did before, farther down my throat, more tounge, eye contact.

And anyone who doesn't think sex gets better and better isn't trying. Learning more and more how each other's bodies move lets you think about how a hip thrust or throwing my legs back can do. Cumming at the same time happens without trying- nothing makes me cum like feeling him building up to it, watching his face change as he fuckes me exponentially harder and faster. I find myself trying to out perform the last time... I used to hate being on top due to laziness and not wanting to take on responsibility for the ultimate sucess of the endeavor, but I rock that shit out now. I slide up and down and back and forth faster and harder than I thought I could move, and for the first time I can enjoy having leg muscles that can do that. I arch my back and let my tits bounce up and down as I fuck him, watching myself in the reflection of the framed poster over his bed. I look fucking good.

And for some reason, he lets me be very greedy. Laying in his bed in the morning while I plays with my clit (my favorite thing in the entire world), I wasn't ready to stop after I came. "Make me cum again" and he indulges me as much as I do him. "Don't stop" I know it's increadibly demanding to want to get off 5, 6, 7 times in a row but it's better and better each time. "How many times have you cum?" "9" "Well let's make number 10 really good" It's always really good. It has never ever not been really good. He's set the bar very high. But after getting off a number of times, that final orgasm that puts you over the edge is insane. "Final" because it leaves my mind in a blur, my entire body worn out from seizing and shaking and every neuron firing like a machine gun. So sometimes I'm demanding. It is usually five minutes or so after, when I've regain the ability to speak, that I like to tell him he made me cum so hard I forgot how to read.

An Inspirational Tale

2008-05-04T19:39:00.005-05:00

Sometimes I feel like where I am now with S, considering where we started, is an inspirational fable to give hope to hoes the world over

So this girl, she was kinda fucked up, with the Daddy Issues and shit, so she was kind of a slut, she was just trying to have fun without getting to into anyone and she met this guy that thought she was cute and they went out. He tried to treat her like a girl he wanted to date, and she got freaked out cause she'd never seen that outside of a romantic comedy.

So she pulls the classic move where she deliberately fucks up, she fucks this other guy and tells the guy she's been going out with, figures he's gonna want to run away after that, right? But he stays around. Only now she's demonstrated that she'd never be a decent girlfriend and that she doesn't care about him more than just fooling around.

But they keep talking all the time and a few random visits. For the next year they're sorta talking but not really, and she likes him but doesn't have the balls to admit it. Meanwhile he knows he shouldn't be wasting his time with a girl that made it clear from the start that he wasn't a thing to her. As she starts to figure out maybe he is, he's actually dating another girl, a religious one who doesn't put out, but lies about it to keep this girl willing to fool around with him once in a while.

Eventually she figures out that this guy is treating her like shit and backs off. With enough distance, she comes to the conclusion that she's gotta stay away because maybe, just maybe, she can't hook up with this guy without getting 'attached'. And after a while he starts up saying he misses her and that other girl wasn't right for him, that he was trying to be something he's not and he wants to see her again.

And for the first time she tells him what's up, tells him he hurt her, tells him she actually liked him and he treated her like shit and she wanted him and by dating a girl who's obviously wrong for him he just rubs her face in the rejection. And, for the first time not wanting him, she's able to tell him, without fear of what he's gonna think of her because he's a fucking cunt anyways, she tells him that she can't just hook up with him without having feelings for him. She thought she could, but she was wrong. She says she can't see him unless it was for real, unless he actually cared about her. She thinks, this has got to be an even better exit strategy than fucking another guy. But no. He says ok. Maybe he actually wants to be with her.

But she's obviously scared and she's been telling herself to stay the fuck away. "I made a mistake" he says. Yes you fucking did, you fucker, she thinks. "I didn't know what I wanted." Hmm...yeah that's hard for me too actually, she thinks.

And as she thinks about, she thinks how she's made some mistakes, how maybe if she hadn't screwed that other guy just to push him away, maybe things would have gone differently, maybe if she'd stepped up and admitted to herself that she might actually care about him, if she hadn't assumed he was gonna hurt her if she let him, if she knew herself then well enough to know that this guy was, in fact, what she wanted. Maybe, in spite of being so together and almost supernaturally smart, it took him a while to figure it out too. She thinks about the things she's changed in herself, about her fuck ups that she's learned from. She thinks, if I can fix my shit, shouldn't I give him the chance to do the same?

She's scared as shit but she's thinking, the worst that can happen is that she totally falls for him and then gets fucking destroyed when he leaves her and feels worse than she'd ever imagined a person could feel. That will suck. But after that, what else would be scary? Perhaps the reason people do this is that it's worth it. So, not without some struggle, she lets herself get close to him and has to find out that not only is he perfect, he cares about her and takes good care of her. Even though she reacts to cancelled visits as though they were threatening breakups, feels edgy around the interim girlfriend-now-just-friend she lost to once before, and sometimes in bed starts crying for no reason, he never for a second stops being wonderful and loving and perfect.

And somehow he just gets better, and she starts to realize how lucky they are. She can't believe that the best sex she's ever had gets better every time, that they like each other more and more, that something so good for her can feel like an indulgence.

For most of college, I thought I would try to have fun without getting too attached to anyone. I actively avoided getting to know anyone I hooked up with. And every time I did something in that pattern, I thought I was digging myself deeper in a slut hole. I had conceded defeat and thought no one could really want me. But now I think at least this one case of the Reformed Slut is possible, I'm sure there are more. And I think everyone should be so jealous. In my cynicism I thought no one could have a relationship this good; I'd have laughed if you'd told me I would, especially this young. I never thought I'd be able to have this.

Vacation

2008-03-09T23:40:00.003-05:00

For spring break, S and I went to New Orleans for 4 days. I spent 3 nights with him in DC, 3 in New Orleans and another in DC before I left. For a relationship that's otherwise made up of scattered weekends and a steady flow of AIM and text messaging, a 24/7 of each other had the potential to be difficult. I fully expected at some point to have a full on yelling/crying fight.

But I was very excited, I researched hotels and restaurants and bars, I had visions of walking around the French Quarter, spending afternoons in little cafes and boutiques, drinking Sazeracs in very posh bars all evening, slipping into the white sheets of our king size hotel bed....

Like most over-anticipated events, the reality didn't really live up to that. Bourbon Street was filled with middle aged middle american tourists with fanny packs milling in and out of dark dingy bars with plastic cups of daquaris and glassy dead eyes. A chubby girl in a bra and thong stood outside a club with a sign for big ass beers . I felt like such a prude. Much of the rest of the area was made up of souvenir shops and more bars. As we walked all over I started to despair. What was I thinking, what were we going to do in a place like this? It's not a town that caters to the young urban professional, which he is and I tend to behave as. Walking all over wasn't even as much fun as I'd hoped, and there are suprisingly few cafes in the quarter. I think I might have confused New Orleans with Paris.

But we had a great time. A few great restaurants and a hotel room were really all we needed. I had anticipated having a hotel room with S with as much excitment as the trip itself- sex in a hotel room always sounded so glamorous. I'd brought all my favorite lingerie- black lacey thong and bra with thigh high stockings, bra and panty sets, my sheer pink baby doll... S has an exceptional appreciation for these things, so they didn't go to waste but most of the time I found myself naked or in sweats curled up with him, no make up and hair a mess. I'd thought that taking us to this vibrant, excitingly unfamilliar city would stir up that sexy, uninhibited feeling that inspires impulsiveness in people on vacation, but instead we seemed to just indulge in the familiarity of one another.

Although I was very glad I brought my super short blue plaid mini skirt, cropped white oxford, over the knee socks and 4 inch heels. I've been thinking about that for months, and finally had a chance to see if it looked as hot as I imagined. S said, "This? Is worth the trip." "You know, I have all this in my apartment..."

By the time we checked out we were more than ready to leave. Getting back seemed to take a lot longer, and curling up in S's bed had the same comfortable familliarity of my own bed.

2008-02-25T18:42:00.004-05:00

S: "So, I saw something the other day that made me think of you."
Me: "Oh?"
S: "Did you see the Lindsay Lohan pictures, where she was Marylin Monroe?"
Me: "Umm hells yeah. What about them?"
S: "Oh, they just made me think of you."

And just when I thought he couldn't be any sweeter...

Edited to add:

"lol, i was refering to the marylin shoot, i mean, lindsay was hot, but you're way more classic glamor than she is...lindsay is still a girl, to me, you and marylin are women ;-)....lol i mean, i'd not kick lindsay out of bed, but I was comparing you the marylin shoot, much more luxurious, and come on baby, you're an original, never a copy...i mean, i always hate revising my blog posts and i'm sure you do too, but I'm gonna have to insist, you're a marylin to me, not a lindsey"

Wasted Wednesdays

2008-02-21T13:59:00.002-05:00

Hey, remember that time I got arrested? I do. In order to get that expunged from my record, I have this fun little "Substance Abuse" class every Wednesday night. It sounds like it should be miserable, but more often then not it just cracks my shit up.

The first class, I just sat there with a bitchface on and my arms crossed, trying to keep from arguing that I shouldn't even be there. But by now (three classes in) I just take it in stride. The girl teaching it is like, my age. She's not too psyched to be there either, and her knowledge of what she's supposed to "teach" us is pretty marginal. For example, she describes the effects of a hangover as the opposite of the effects of alcohol. "So, you know, if alcohol makes you relaxed, after that wears off you'd feel...what?" "anxious?" "Yeah, and if alcohol decreases your reaction time, a hangover would...?" "Increase your reaction time?" "Right" Wait, what?

My favorite thing about this class is how a phrase can mean something so different in there. A "really fun binge drinking activity" does not mean Flip Cup, it means a handout. Last night, playing Drug Jeopardy, I got to say things like, "I'll take Ecstacy for $100"

I like to have fun with the class a little bit. Sometimes I'm, just obnoxious and point out the fundemental problems with the research presented, sometimes I just ask retarded shit, like how to make crystal meth. I also enjoy fucking with stupid kids in the class. We have all these little team exercises, and I want to lose every single one. "What are two long term side effects of ecstacy?" Um, it's totally overrated? My group huddles to caucus but no one can come up with anything. I can't resist. "You know, I heard, if you have sex on ecstacy you can never have an orgasm again!" The other girl's eyes light "Ooooh that's a good one!" She raises her hand "Umm erectile...I mean, impotance?" The teacher looks at her like she's retarded. I sit back and smile. The girl looks at me accusingly. Bwah ha ha. "Dude, I didn't say that." Some guy raises his hand, "So for girls it would be like, menstrual....stuff?" Wow that's not even close. The whole class sort of falls apart and I am so proud of myself.

I wish she would ask something like "What's everyone doing this week?" so I could tell her I'm going to a wine tasting tonight and am clearly too cool for this class.

hangover day

2008-02-16T10:58:00.002-05:00

Have you ever ended up with a epic hangover that you are quite sure you did not deserve? Wednesday night I went to have dinner with my advisor and his wife, as I often do, and had 3 or 4 glasses of white wine while I was there. Less than a bottle. I ended up feelig very drunk, chalked it up to just being tired/ having missed my workout that day, and went home, drank some water, and went to bed.

The next morning I thought I was going to die- my head was pounding, my skin was clammy, I was dry heaving all morning. I managed to drag my ass to campus where I was lucky enough to run into my ex boyfriend of 2 years, Will.

He said hey, and I said hey, and I tried to keep walking but he wanted to start a conversation. He wanted to tell me he was taking another year to graduate. Of course. His pattern was to sign up for classes, and then forget to go because he was always, always high. Trying to have a relationship with him was not only a bad idea, but really imposible. He was always too high to really be there, it was like trying to interact with the shell of a guy. The fact that he's still in school is kind of remarkable, but I know that he has alienated all of his friends, not just be, by constantly being too checked out to function.

I told him I ws getting a master's next year, and he was all "Oh that's great....but, are you gonna get accepted?"
"Um, yes? I mean, I'm not worried at all"
"Yeah, cause I mean, you're really smart Sarah, seriously, you are." wtf is this? I was so annoyed by his condescention I just said. "Well, yeah"
"Really you are. How've you been?"
"Really good actually, everything;s going great, feelig really shitty today though"
"yeah you look like a mess, are you ok?"
"Yeah I'm really sick... lie a hagover and maybe something else? I dunno"
"Oh are you drinking again?" he asked in this low voice that made me wana stragle him
"Actually I haven't been drinking much at all this semester, this year, I've been really healthy"
"It's really bad for you you know, you shouldn't drink so much"
"Um yes, I had like 3 glasses of wine?"
"You see it hurts your liver, your liver's right here" and he put his hand on my waist. I recoiled away involenterily, like he'd bured me.
"Yeah I think I know where my liver is. Good luck actually graduating, I gotta go finish some work."
"Ok well, yeah you knnow I've..." He kept talking as I walked away.

I felt awful after that. I never feel good after seeing him. At the very least I think, were you this unattractive when we were going out? His features are too feminine, he's small, like 3 inches shorter than me. He talks like he's on mood stablizers. He's arrogant and boring. Going out with him was a tremendous drain on my self esteem, and my biggest regret was that I did it for so long. I never got the sense he was attracted to me at all, and he was at best mildly interested. I was aware that this was not the ideal situation but I thought, well beggers can't be choosers.

As the afternoon went on, I came out of my hangover haze and managed to get stuff done. while working i the lab, I got a call that S had sent me flowers. Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day. Even better, instead of the drugstore arrangement of red roses and baby's breath in celophane, he'd sent some really gorgeous tulips. So much cooler.

Completely negated earlier events of the day

going down

2008-02-12T23:59:00.002-05:00

I've never been a big fan of getting eaten out. It's never bad, but all things considered it just seems like a mediocre idea. Maybe I've just had a few less than stellar experiences with over-enthusiastic drunk freshmen boys. My primary reaction was always, "Wow, he's really trying, he didn't have to do that!" or "oh shit, now I have to go down on him." I didn't get any real gratification, just recognized the effort. It was just so clear they were doing me a favor, and I'd better enjoy it. I don't fake orgasms, really, I haven't in long long time, but I always found myself greatly exagerating my enjoyment, to show my appreciation and maybe to suggest that they could stop whenever they wanted, thanks.

Eventually I just sorta skipped it entirely, I'd wiggle out of positions that looked like they were going there, or I'd flat out say I didn't like it . "Oh I'll make you like it." Whatever dude. When the guy insisted or I wasn't up for arguing, I'd switch into Appreciative Mode and applaud the skill.

Last weekend S wanted to eat me out. I was feeling sexy as all hell (waxing is fantastic y'all) and I managed to get into it. I kind of love watching things like that, somehow I can feel voyeuristic and narcissistic at the same time (like looking back when he's fucking me from behind because I like watching my hips thrusting back into his. Mirror in the bedroom maybe?). Anyways. For once, being eaten out didn't seem like feigned awkward chivalry, and it didn't imply any expectations of me. I mean, I wasnt thinking "I've gotta give him head now" because I'd been aching to suck his dick since we'd gotten into bed, if not earlier.

Those long, slow licks made my whole body ache, getting stronger as his tounge moved harder and faster... the build up was extraordinary, but to get over that edge and actually cum like I needed to, I had to fucking focus.

I blame S- he has recalibrated the way I cum. It's like playing a video game on a new level- you could beat level one over and over, but level 9 is another story. Getting off has never been a problem for me, but the quality, duration, intensity of my orgasms are so much greater now that I don't think I can have the regular ones anymore. My body doesn't recognize it, it's holding out for the good shit. Getting eaten out is quite lovely but it's not gonna give me the mind blowing, explosive, can't see straight orgasms I've been spoiled by.

Weekend

2008-02-10T16:34:00.000-05:00

This weekend, my boyfriend and my mom came to stay with me, in my apartment. When I told people my plans, they'd say, "Won't that be a little... awkward?" I'd say, "Yeah, isn't it great? I live for this shit." I've reached this really great point where I'm confident and happy with my relationship with him and with my mom that I couldn't imagine anything going badly. Awkward, yes, but not irreperably so.

It would seem like an odd arrangement, to have sex while your mom is in the next room. But more than that it was unfamilliar (but not uncomfortable) to be flirty and affectionate with my mom watching. She absolutely loved it, I think she found it really entertaining. And although S was careful to ask what was allowed before hand ("can I kiss you in front of your mom? are we allowed to sleep in the same bed?") once it was clear that this was all ok he was completely comfortable, and for that I have to give him huge props.

My mom didn't hesitate to call us out, in jest. In the car she said "Oh you guys don't wanna sit in the back together and make out?" (like my brother and his girlfriend do) "I guess if you can actually sleep together you don't need to do that." I love that rather than turning red and thinking, oh my mom is so embarssing! I just smile and kind of love the fact that my mom calls it like it is.

Then we went to meet the advisor and his wife, and everyone had a great time. S said, "After meeting him, I have to call bullshit on all your stories."
"What? Why? I've never said anything that wasn't true, what don't you beleive?'
"Oh no I believe it's all true, but it's not malicious at all, they've just adopted you like a daughter and he cares about you and your mom, he's been so lucky financially and he just wants to share that."
"Yeah. That's....what I said."
"Well, I was worried, but he's a great guy."

I used to keep this boy a secret. It's such a releif to have everyone like each other, and I jsut feel lucky to have all these people who care about me together.

Strings Attached?

2008-02-01T22:19:00.001-05:00

I have a research advisor here at school who often takes on the role of sugar daddy. Through a lot of good luck, he has found himself with more money than he knows what to do with, and for some reason, he is very attached to me. It may be the fact that he taught my mother when he was just starting at this college and liked her quite a lot, it may be that I look eerily simillar to his wife (who was a model for Yves St Laurent many many years ago, omg!) but I think it's mostly fueled by typical old-man desire to "help" people. I think he has reached the age where he wants to leave a legacy, and he has more or less been disappointed by his children.

He plays the role of doting father, but because I have never experienced that, I'm sort of uneasy. That doesn't stop me though, I've already let him buy me a very expensive Cole Haan purse, to slip me envelopes of cash when I go out of town for a weekend. My pride and my desire for true financial indpendence are sometimes outweighed by my materialism.

Starting in May, I'll get a graduate student stipend. My advisor will supplement this stipend, because he can. I know that he expects more of his graduate studets than most do. The extra money means working longer and harder, that's reasonable. On the DL, he's giving me a few grand to "invest", as long as I meet with him a few times a week to to let him advise me on my investment strategy. Ok then.

My boy is visiting this weekend, and he will meet this very weird man. Before meeting him, my advisor has offered his frequent flier miles to anywhere in the US, for Spring Break. Reaction #1- hells yeah! Reaction #2- You are a creepy creepy man.

I have experienced that, in accepting these sorts of favors, there are always strings attached, even if it's just a nagging feeling that you don't deserve what you have or that you'll always be indebted to someone. I can't decide whether to accept the tickets or not. S is uncomfortable too, understandably.

I told my advisor's other grad student about his offer. "Aww that'll be so much fun, that's so nice of him!" he said.
"Yeah I don't know, it's kind of uncomfortable."
"Nah, why's that?"
"Well, I'm not sure how my boy feels about it...."
"No?"
"Well, how would you feel if your girlfriend worked for this guy that liked her a lot and spent a lot of time with her, took her out to dinner a lot, bought her a lot of stuff, got her drunk, and gave her expensive gifts and vacations and was taking her to France this summer?"
"Oh no, that would not be ok, I'd wanna fight 'im."
"Yeah, you see, it sounds really bad."
"Shit yeah. So your boy's gonna meet him this weekend?"
"Yeah. Oh, it will be some fun."
"Is he gonna start some shit? Is he gonna try to throw down at dinner, he gonna get mad and shit?"
"What? Oh, no. No he's not like, retarded!"

We'll see. Either way, it will be interesting. And damn, I'd love a long weekend in a hotel room with my boy over break...

faith

2008-01-02T00:30:00.000-05:00

I like to think that I'm a very rational person; I try to give emotions as little imput as possible. I think, as a result, I'm really bad at mitigating them.

On the metro (whhy is this such an emotional place for me?) I said something about how sad it is that predjudice againsnt gay people is so prevalent, that it's no better than racism. S described himself as hating the sin, not the sinner. "But that implies homosexuality is a sin,"' I responded. "Well, yeah, I think it is." Ummm. "You mean, the bible would say it's a sin?" S- "Yeah, I beleive that it's a sin."' S is incredibly tolerant and compassionate, wouldn't deny anyone the same rights as anyone else, cares deeply about his gay friends and wouldn't want them living a life that didn't make them happy, doesn't think they are going to hell. And yet he can say that he truly believes that homosexuality is a sin.

I tried to argue with him, I got frustrated, I got sad and started to tell myself that we had to break up right now, I got angry and told him it was because of hs beleif that hate crimes were comitted, that anyone who would belive something on the basis of an antiquated book lacked intelligence or sanity.

And then he got mad. How could I call him intolerant when he stood by friendswho had come out when their family and other friends wouldn't? He had never imposed his faith on anyone else, yet somehow I felt justified in cutting down his beleif system because I disagreed with it? I'd never seen him that angry. I can't remember the last time I saw anyone that angry. I was terrified, not of the explosive display of angry but as I realized what I'd done, terrified that by talking to him like he was some horrible biggot when I know he's a wonderful, tolerant person and by showing such contempt for something so important to him, I was going to aliente myself from him beyond repair because of my intolerance.

I'll never understand faith. Anything related should not be open for discussion, not to aoid argument but because an argument cannot even be made between us. We'll always speak different languages when we talk about religion. I can hardly understand beleiving in something. I know what words like Think, Feel, and Know mean, but the word Beleive seems like this hybrid of those, the certitude without the basis. Belifes are scary, you can't reason with a belife.

We got home and I cried, we appolgized (for overreacting, for blowing up, for not understanding). "you're struggling with hearing me say this," S said, "but I've been struggling with it for a long time, reconciling that part of what I bleive with the more important part, to love everyone." What can I say?

And then for the first time in my life I had make up sex, and it was everything I was lead to beleive it would be. I think an intense bout of crying right before is the real key. Hot right?

2007-12-16T21:55:00.000-05:00

Before I got on the train to go to DC this weekend I went out for a bottle of wine with one of my professors, so for the begining of the ride I was kinda lit. I have a trigger that is set off by a certain BAC- I start making flirty eyes at everyone. Across the aisle and two rows up was a tall, broad shouldered, 20 something boy who I couldn't help looking up and down when he walked across to the bathroom. At one point I made some prolonged eye contact, and my half-bottle of wine made me smile a little as I eye-fucked him a little. I might have licked my lips. Who knows.

I headed up to the snack car hoping to get a delightfully fake-tasting, vacuum-packed sammich. As I'm standing in line, I feel something on the back of my neck. It's that guy! "I like your scarf." What a weirdo! Well whatever, I got like 2 more hours to kill. He asks if I wanna have a drink with him, but didn't offer to pay for it, so I figured I wasn't implying anything by it, right?

Turns out he's in the Navy, get a A.S. in Phys Ed, would be a personal trainer if he could only pass the test, lives in Jersey and makes it clear he hates all of it. A real winner. "So that's why I have to drink." Hot. I give it a good effort, I smile and flip my hair and I do the eye thing a little. He's not subtle about looking me up and down appreciatively but I can't get him to say much. We finish out drinks and head back to our seats. Just as I start in on my Vogue he sits down next to me to share his big bottle of rum and coke. Well, ok.

"What's the craziest thing you've done lately?" Hmm, what's the lamest movie line you've quoted lately? I ramble about getting arrested or the shit we pulled this summer, and that isn't doing it for him. "When's the last time you were really satisfied?" Ha. Haha. Wow. I'm a super bitch so I say "What?" and make him repeat it. "Hmm, the last time I was really satisfied...wow... I guess like, Sunday? Or maybe Wednesday or Tuesday. But definitly Sunday." He was not expecting that. "Wow you're doing better than me!"
"Well, that's not you're fault, you're in the goddamn Navy!"
"Yeah but still....like, last Sunday?"
"Yeah I do ok."

Navy guy starts to look for a way to convince me to mess around on the boy I'm on my way to see. Y'all have got to stop that, it's sorta pathetic. His deep depression is breaking my heart so I sorta lean in and tell him that if I'd met him on a train a few months ago, I would be trying like hell to get him to sneak into the bathroom with me.

Is that true? That's something I used to think about on the train, how hot it would be to meet a stranger and sneak off to the bathroom and tear into each other. C'mon, it sounds hot. If it weren't for S, would I wanna get on Navy boy? If I was just heading home, no boy anywhere, and this great looking but a bit dim, just off from the military was trying this hard, what would make me say no?

And where are these guys when I don't have a better option waiting for me? I shut it off over the summer, and now I've had like 5 guys do this, come on really strong and then try to talk me into it after I explain. Points for persistance, but come on, don't be that guy!

No really, I AM a nice girl!

2007-12-13T15:03:00.000-05:00

I like to think that fun porn-type stuff like that is just an add-on to already good sex. If "normal" sex is vanilla, porn inspired kink is the toppings. I don't want to only have vanilla ice cream, but I don't want to eat a bowl of sprinkles.

I can't decide how I feel about the Jezebel article "How Porn Ruined Sex." The thesis is that because guys have been watching porn since they were 10, their conception of good sex is so skewed that they pretty much only appreciate kinky, fetishy things and that because of the evil porn, women are forced to do things they don't want to do. I'm also kind of psyched cause I know the girl from the opening anecdote from my freshman dorm. I think.

Like pretty dumb things said, the article works off the assumption that there's no intersection between anything you see in porn and anything girls want to do. Um I secretly wish I was a porn star. Not really, but you know what I mean. I'm excited that my new digicam takes video, is all I'm saying. I have a schoolgirl skirt I would never wear in public. I have handcuffs. Not gonna lie, sometimes I love acting like a porn star.

I guess I was a naive little ho because I thought I could just do whatever I wanted and that maybe someone would, I dunno, like that about me. That didn't work out so well. Why would a virile, sexy guy throw away the cute, smart, sexy girl that can't get enough of him and who genuinely loves indulging him for the girl who had no interest, who he had to beg for it?

The article says that because of porn women have to do slutty things they don't want to do to keep guys interested. But wanting to do them reduces you to fucking trash that isn't worth your time or respect. I feel like I talk about this all the time but it just infuriates me.

Later in the article there's a quote from a guy into S&M that says, "I do that to keep from getting too close to women." And you wonder why they're so reluctant. Again, maybe I'm just naive but I don't think it has to work that way.

X mas

2007-12-12T13:43:00.000-05:00

Around the middle of October, Christmas stuff started creeping up in stores, and I couldn't have been more excited. I'm the rare person who loves all things Christmas and has nothing against drawing it out as long as possible. The first sighting of the Starbucks Gingerbread Latte makes me want to jump up and down. I dragged my mom out early in the morning the weekend after Thanksgiving to get a tree, I had a burst of energy that fueled a day of light stringing and garland hanging and of course cookie baking. I can't wait to get home and make cookies and cakes and candies and wrap presents and drink yummy holiday cocktails...

Christmas, like me, is all about indulgence. Indulging yourself and other people. I mean, it's all about presents and eating and drinking and parties... It's the sexiest holiday, I just want to run around in my red lace boyshorts and a Santa hat baking cookies and fucking in front of a fireplace.

Scenes from the Metro

2007-12-02T22:00:00.000-05:00

"Ok I'm gonna play the cube game with you," S said with a devious little smile. "It's a fun psychoanalysis game, to let me know how fucked up you are." Sounds like fun to me. I'll take any personality quiz, I'll contemplate my fucked-up-ness for an entire afternoon. Bring it.

"Ok picture a space, like a room. Any space." Ok. Four walls, ceiling, floor. "Now picture a cube. What's it look like?"

"It's about the size of a rubik's cube, but it's black and shiny."

"Is it opaque or transparent? Where is it?"

"It's definitly opaque, very solid, sitting on the floor."

"Ok now there's a bed of flow- no, just flowers, what do they look like?"

"Well since you said bed or course it's a bed. The bed is set in the hardwood floor, two by three feet, and that space is filled with flowers."

"And the flowers, are they big or small?"

"They're big, tall, like tulips and daffodils. Very lush."

"Ok there's a ladder, where is it?"

"It's a normal like eight foot ladder, up against the wall."

"Ok, ok that's good, against the wall..."

"Yeah I guess it just leads to the ceiling. I don't want to climb it."

"You don't?"

"No, I mean, it's not like it goes anywhere, and the floor does not look like it has a very high coefficient of friction, the ladder will probably slip."

"Interesting. Now there's a horse."

"There's a horse? In the room?"

"Sure."

"If you say so"

"So describe the horse.'

"He's very pretty, he's just chilling. Eating some flowers."

"The horse is eating the flowers?"

"Sure, horses eat flowers right? I mean, deer eat flowers. A horse would too, if you put them in front of him. And what else is he gonna do? Climb the ladder? Play with my cube? It's a horse!"

"Well....ok..... does he seem happy to be there?"

"I guess, he's hanging out. I'm sure he'd rather be outside. He's a horse. He doesn't belong indoors"

"Hmm. Ok. Well there's a storm. Describe it."

"Well it's just thunder and lightening and rain and all but I like thunderstorms. And it's outside. I'm inside. And there are no windows so I can't even see it."

"Wow. Ok. Well....damn babe. Your cube is your ego. I guess yours is dark and small. Maybe you have low self worth, or just that you aren't egomaniacal. And it's opaque and black...." he went on to talk about when he first met me and how I'm slow to open up... While he was talking I thought about my cube. Through the exercise it was either like a black ipod shaped like a cube, shiny plastic and high tech looking, or a very dense, almost luminous perfect cube of obsidion. In either case, valuabe significant objects. I like my cube.

He went on, "It's interesting that it's dark and opaque, you're kind of provate about like, personal stuff." Yeah you could say that. Maybe you shouldn't be trying to break open my cube.

"The flowers are your family and friends." I smiled. There weren't a whole lot but they filled the space alotted and they were beautiful and healthy. He said he ave the same test to a mutual friend. "She had lots of little flowers that covered the whole space. She is quite the social butterfly."

"Now the ladder is your goals and aspirations." Oh. Shit. My stomach turned. "It's interesting that you think the base is unstable, but yeah, you don't seem to have a good sense of what you want so you don't know where to go." There I am halfway up the ladder and it slips out from under me, sending me crashing to the floor. My eyes welled up with tears and I turned my head away. "Oh that's hillarious."

"Now the horse...haha all girls call the horse "he". The horse is your ideal mate." Lump in my throat. "And you said the horse didn't belong in the room!'

"Babe, stop, I don't wanna play anymore."

"Oh are you gonna cry?"

"No"

"Look at me."

"No."

"Oh, and you had the horse eating the flowers? That's crazy, I have never heard anything like that. In fact no one has ever questioned the presence of the horse before!"

"It's not my fault, you confnused me! A horse could eat flowers!"

"Well you did say the horse wanted to get out," he said, laughing.

"A horse does not belong indoors! You tricked me into making a room, you did not say, picture a space that would accomodate a fucking horse! When you told me about the room all I knew was that Iwas gonna have to put a cube in it!"

"Babe relax, you said your horse was happy. Don't worry about it. You wanna hear about the storm?"

"No!"

"Sure you do, don't be so dramatic, you gonna cry or something?" The tears are coming now full force. "Oh shit you are crying. Babe don't take it so seriously, I don't know what I'm talking about."

"I know but I do."

"Well, the storm is your problems, and yours are prefectly normal and managable, they aren't a big deal for you!"

"They aren't a big deal because I've trapped myself in a room with no windows with tulips and a ladder and a confused horse so I can ignore my problems! Not better!'

I'm sobbing. On the metro. About retarded metaphores.

"Babe are you really crying?"

"Yes! What is wrong with you? You seriously do this to other people? Are you totally fucking sick? Do you like to needle at people's insecurities until they totally fall apart? You think that's funny or something?"

"Babe I was just teasing you!"

"You can tease me about liking reality tv and gingerbread lattes. You cannot tease me about having no self worth, ann unstable sense of myself that prevents me from accomplishing anything, for being incapable of being loved, for isolating myself rather than deal with problems. How is that funny? What is wrong with you?!"

"It's just a stupid game"

"I wouldn't be upset if it wasn't hitting a nerve?" Now I'm panicing. Everything I'm worried about is now right on the surface, I have to look at it and he can see it too. And I'm crying, and he's seeing me cry, about something so trivial. He knows I'm batshit crazy.

Hmm maybe I should be more careful with this whole "letting myself be vulnerable" thing.

naked

2007-11-30T22:54:00.000-05:00

I get so irritated with the notion that girls that are into sex , who can't get enough of it, are somehow incapable of relationships or are emotionally distant. However I never made much of a case against it. I was always nice and content and easy to get along with because I refused to show any vulnerability and stayed away from anything that might suggest neediness. This evasiveness is especially bizarre when contrasted with how accesible I was physically. I very consciously used sex to avoid more difficult ways of interacting. I'd say, "I don't want to talk about this anymore, I'm gonna take my clothes off," or the classic-kissing-so-you-don't-have-to-talk move.

I guess using sex as an ice breaker is not fundementally wrong but I never got there. I would think, well I fooled around with that guy way too soon so now he thinks I'm a slut so I guess I can't talk to him again. Eliminating the option, giving up in order to avoid failing.

I have a theory that people really attach to what they think are their problems because it eliminates options and shrinks the available world down to a less overwhelming size. For example, "I'm not smart enough to do that," or, "I could never have kids because I'm too fucked up and I'm not maternal" Having kids sounds terrifying but saying you simply aren't capable is easier to reconcile in your head than making a choice.

Maybe it was easier, or at least less daunting, for me to say, "I can't be in a good relationship, I'm too fucked up and I wouldn't want to subject a decent guy to that, I can only be with other fucked up people and I cheat on them because that's who I am, not because I don't really want to be with them" That limits you to a realtionship that you can only get so much out of, and one where you can still be very guarded because you don't trust the other person and that's ok with you. If the only purpose your relationship has is sex and someone to drink with, it's a lot less likely to fail.

Before, with S, I really worked the angle of cool, sexy girl that doesn't need commitment, like I'd done before, but it didn't stop me from liking him quite a bit. I forgot to take down the Bitch facade so he figured, not unreasonably, that I didn't like him for anything but his dick.

Then he came back, talking to me again. He seemed....earnest, which was new, but I was apprehensive and knew that he was charming enough that my will power or cognitive abilities would not be sufficient to keep me out of trouble, so I just threw every bit of Crazy I had at him, every little thought I'd edited out of our conversations before for being too attached, too needy, too girly, too emotional, too interested... and he didn't seem phased. Suprised but not derailed.

I can tell him things, unpleasant things, things I'm worried or insecure about and it's not just that he's so reassuring and says exactly the right thing, but his affection for me doesn't seem to waver in the slightest, even as I rant about my mom or tell him I failed a test or admit to eating the entire container of cheese. Somehow it's all ok even when I'm showing him all of me

And I'm still very comfortable taking all my clothes off and throwing myself at him.

One-A-Day Sluts

2007-11-14T21:25:00.000-05:00

My favorite class by far right now is Advanced Biochem, and not just because the prof is one of the few young, funny, female teachers in the chem department. It's also for the fun and useful info. Yesterday our teacher, a confirmed lush, explained that if you were gonna get really really drunk, a day or two before you should load up on vitamin B. Dully noted. A little cartoon thought buble appeared over my head... a multivitamin designed for my needs!

1) Vitamain B- component of enzyme that detoxifies you of alcohol so you wake from your night of binge drinking feeling refreshed and not like vodka is coming out of your pores

2) Vitamin E- To ward off that dull, gray skin that comes from smoking and drinking and boning all night instead of sleeping.

3) Caffiene- Of course.

4) Cranberry Extract- I used to get UTIs like every time I had sex. Might be because every time I have sex I have it like, all night long. I have a problem with moderation. A day after I'd feel it coming on and be like, on campus where for some reason there is no cranberry juice to be found! My mom picked up on this, and bought me a big jar of cranberry extract capsules at Costco. I take a few before I fool around, and for the following 2 days. Haven't had a hint of a UTI.

Obviously this pill would be like, the size of a golf ball but I think it's a cool idea.

Daddy Issues

2007-11-06T11:31:00.000-05:00

I never really liked my dad. He came into the picture when I was 3 or 4 (my step dad actually) and the story I've been told is that I was furious that this strange man was taking my mommy away from me. Apparently one evening I was so angry that he was intruding on me and my mom and monopolizing her attention that I took a shit in his bag. So there. My mom had been abandoned and divorced and had a baby to take care of, and even though he was still married to someone else, I don't think she could resist being rescued.

Growing up I always thought my dad was kind of a tool. He's too gregarious and to anxious to be every one's best friend. I was wary of most of what he said, even his affection for my mom seemed stagy and not genuine. Nothing about him was very genuine, he has money and he's eager to show everyone, and so he tries to have expensive tastes but gives himself away by ordering "Expresso" and abroad he's very much the embarrassing American. He needs constant admiration, he's always trying to tell me and my brother stories about how great he is at his job, not understanding that admiration from his children is not earned the way a promotion is earned. He's not smart, he uses words he thinks sound impressive in ways that indicate he does not know what they mean and yet he looks down on anyone without a graduate degree. He never remembers anything about anyone else, he calls people by the wrong names all the time and is not remotely embarrassed by it, he was never very interested in what I was doing in high school. He'd ask about school but not know what classes I was taking, what play I'd been at rehearsal for for the past 2 months, and everything is a vehicle for him to talk about himself. He's basically Michael Scott.

The only time he was interested in what I was doing was when I was out. That made him furious, and he would yell at my mom until she called me and told me I had to come home immediately. I thought it was all her, and all throughout high school I hated her for not letting me see my friends, sometimes grounding me from play rehearsal or other extracurricular activities for offenses that were never explained to me. I thought she was just a horrible, cruel woman, and I'd come home and cry and my dad would give me a sympathetic look and put all the responsibility on my mom. He never said anything to me, it all came through my mom. He'd later accuse her of not letting him be a father to me.

My mom is smarter than him and it scares him. He left her for his girlfriend from high school who never went to college and never left the area. She is so impressed by his Ph D, the fact that he can take her all over the world (even if it means I have to take out loans for school because money is suddenly a lot tighter...). and in return he's her little bitch, he jumps to answer her calls, which come about 15 times a day, he wears what she tells him too, he asks her before he does anything, he's stopped eating red meat even though he used to love steak, he used to love Bombay Sapphire Martinis and now he drinks fruity girl drinks because she made them from some recipe she cut out of redbook or something. He's become an emasculated little pussy whipped piece of shit.

My point is, I never liked him and I would be perfectly happy never to see him again. It sucks that now I have loans to pay off after I graduate and we're gonna have to sell the house and we can't go on vacation anymore and he can go to Hawaii and Paris with this other woman, but I'm not gonna miss him. My mom will still miss him, even though the man she was in love with doesn't exist anymore, and my brother will miss having a father he sees regularly, but I never liked him, I was never attached to him, so losing him is not painful for me.

When we went to family therapy (which was awesome, by the way, I had a kick ass time) I told the therapist that I didn't want anything to do with my dad, that he was never really a big part of my life and I would be happy not having a dad, but that my only hesitation was that this would most likely mess me up a little when it came to guys. As soon as I said it I tried to take it back, I didn't want to let my dad have the power to influence anything in my life, even if it was just through his absence. The therapist said that would be a problem for me no matter what, and that I was likely to pick guys that were somewhat distant like my dad if I wasn't careful.

That's a stock answer. I think it's somewhat more specialized than that. Actually looking at the boyfriends and quasi-boyfriends I've had, it's clear that I have been picking guys that I don't even like or respect. I find myself describing them as not that smart, insecure, not funny, boring, a little girly, not sexy... I could get close with them and comfortable and tell them I love them too but it made ending it very easy.

So my realization that I really like S terrifies me. I don't just like that he likes me, I'm not just feeling blown up by the attention and admiration, I like him, independent of that. So when he leaves me I won't be able to say I'm better off without him. I will miss him. I've never missed a boy after breaking up with them. I just miss the sex. I don't miss my dad. I just miss the money. It's going to suck really hard when S leaves me.

Success

2007-11-02T09:24:00.000-05:00

The requisite three weeks of no shaving had passed, and I was now ready to get aforementioned bikini wax. I called the nice salon where I've gotten over priced, mediocre haircuts and where a brazillian wax was $75, $85 with tip. I'd reconciled with the idea that I was going to just have to suck it up and do it, and maybe cut into the wine budget. They also had no appointments available that day, the next day, the day after that... Behind the laundromat I saw a shady little nail place, with a sign "-axing". The W was burned out. I went by there again, and the place was empty except for a korean dude watching TV. The place is on a corner with big windows and fluorescent lights, a kind of fish bowl effect. I asked the man if they did waxing "Eyebrow?" "No... bikini?" He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing in the middle of the fish bowl.

After almost a minute he brought back a girl who looked about 15. She took me into a room that was all mirror on one side, a flickering bluish flourescent light, and a folding table with a blanket over it, and a collection of little cats with wide eyed expressions on another table facing right up between where my legs were about to be. A poor design choice, I think. The room was about the size and ambiance of the back of a van.

"Where you going?" she asked.
"What?" I was kinda edged out.
"You go to the beach?" Oh. Um.
"Yeah sure...for...Thanksgiving." What the hell? That doesn't even make sense.

She started spreading the first patch of wax. "You scared??" I smiled weakly. It was certainly not the best wax I'd ever had. The wax was too hot, scalding the skin a little, and she tried to rip it off before it had set enough, so she had to go back over things a few times. When I flinched, she looked alarmed and said "Don't cry! I will cry if you cry, for feeling bad for you." I was no where near crying. It's really not that bad, and this was probably the most painful wax I've had. Granted I've only had like, 5 before this. But I was determined to be a trooper about it and remind myself this really does suck less than shaving. This place charged $45 for a wax. I thought it'd be cheaper, since they were so half assed, but I'll take what I can get.

After going home and taking a shower, I tried on all my favorite underwear. Beautiful. And it feels fantastic. No really. It's a good think I live alone, is all I'm saying.

Because I'm a huge dork, I had to tell my BFF. "Thanks," she said. "I always wonder how your pubic region is doing." No applause?

Of course I told S too, since I'm going to see him this weekend :-D. He didn't seem too excited about the aesthetic advances of my vagina either. Whatever, you people are haters. I'm excited.

I really don't think the pain is that bad. I'm worried about messing up my skin or getting a bump or something. And I randomly had the thought later that night that all that pulling was going to destroy the collogen and over time I'd have an old lady vag. Is that insane? But the pain doesn't bother me, I'd rather have a short amount of pain than a long period of discomfort. I don't mind things that hurt while you're doing them, I kind of like trying to go faster on the elliptical till my legs start burning or getting the last set of crunches in. The hot flushed skin after getting waxed is like the way your legs feel like jelly after working out, it just feels like a sense of acomplishment.

what a little tease

2007-10-30T20:35:00.000-05:00

I'm such a terrible tease. Over the summer I hooked up with M. I was pleasantly suprised, had a great time, and left feeling affirmed in my cuteness. We said we'd hang out again sometime, but I was going to school, and even though he's fun I knew neither of us was making a trip for that.

When I went home over break I was totally hung up on S. Like, without question. So I ignored all of M's texts and calls. Real mature. When I was back at school I told him sorry, I was way busy. He wasn't mad, but he's gunning hard for Thanksgiving hook up. There's no way. But I'm being a douchebag, I'm letting him talk hiself into a hole while I respond with "yeah" "haha" "I dunno maybe" because I enjoy the attention.

I'm trying not to lie, but I'm being evasive

M- "I can't believe you don't have a boy at school, bein so sexy and all."
Me- "Yeah no one here I'm into really"
M- "haha that's good for me at least. You even hook up with anyone since you saw me?"
Me- "Well yeah" I can't quite justify lying
M- " :-( ouch babe. I mean, I guess don't worry about it, it happens"
Me- "Yes."
M- "I mean don't feel bad if you got drunk and did whatever."
Me- "Well not exactly"
M- "But those tits are mine"
Me- "um"
M- "As long as you come see me next time"
Me- "Well I don't know, we'll see"
M- "Don't like me anymore?"
Me- "I'll just have to see if I can"

I'm a little disgusted with myself. And this afternoon, out of no where....

M- "I wanna give you an orgasm again, like I did before."
Me- "Haha"
M- "I think I made you cum like 3 times right?"
Me- "lol" (whoa dude 3 times in almost 24 hours? I'm f-ing blown away)
M- "I wish you'd remembered your camera, I love jerkin off to ya" (yeah, I "forgot" that)
M- "But I'd rather have sex with you" (shit, really? wow)
Me- "well, yeah..."
M- "remember when i made you cum? Your legs were like, shaking, it was crazy."
Me- "yeah" (Ok, it wasn't bad, but compared to S? completely forgettable)
M- "You make me cum better than anyone, you know that?" (Yes, that's cause I'm phenomenal. I know.) "You gonna come see me soon right?"
Me- "yeah I'll have to see. Gotta class now, I'll ttyl"

This is wrong, isn't it? If I'm all about S, should I let M talk to me like that? I tell myself that because I don't really engage or encourage him as much as I used to, and because I don't agree to anything and I don't send him the pictures he asks for every day, I'm not accountable.

Maintenace

2007-10-28T12:41:00.000-05:00

I am a very lucky girl. I have a fantastic boy to hook up with, giving me a venue for all the pretty little lacy things I've collected. It's brought about a small spree of lingerie shopping. In the past month I've bought 5 sets! 5! I can't stop, you guys. Actually being seen naked does mean that I have to step up the self-maintenance a little, and that means I'm going to have to start waxing again.

Now, obviously I don't have to do anything. I couldn't do something like have all the hair ripped out of my pussy just because a guy wanted me to, I couldn't feel comfortable with the dynamic of that. My best friend has often been told by guys that she should shave for them. I don't think they have any right to do that, who the hell are they? She says she hates the way it looks, and if that's true I hope she never does it for a guy.

I like the way it looks. I'm into aesthetics. I have beautiful underwear and it doesn't really go with hair. And feeling perfectly soft and smooth is so sexy. And I want to be able to feel completely good about the way I look when I'm having sex. The visual component is important to me (like any other narcissist I can't stay away from mirrors...) and not having my shit cleaned up is visually jarring, it doesn't totally ruin it but it takes me down a few notches.

Ingrown hairs, stubble, razor burn, five 'oclock shadows, prickliness, that horrible feeling a day and a half after you shave when it starts to come back, not sexy at all. Shaving is terrible. I'm so surprised by how many guys will talk about shaving your pussy like it's ok. It's cute for like 12 hours but actually doing it is miserable, it destroys your skin, and I think the way it feels coming back in is so much worse than the pain of waxing.

I can't shave regularly, it's just not going to happen. I have to start waxing again, and that means I will soon be out $85. I feel like a Mastercard commercial. Round trip train tickets- $70. Gossard peach satin balconette and bikini set- $55. Brazilian wax-$85. Birth control- $30/month. Highlights- $95. Cute haircut- $35. Money not made because I'm not working- $50.... I'm not even that turned out, compared to some people. How does anyone afford this shit? No wonder so many women give up.

boobs.

2007-10-21T14:34:00.000-05:00

Last weekend my mom and I went bra shopping. The weird part is, it was her idea. I love, love, love getting new lingerie, and she always acts like this is odd. "Why do you need new underwear? Do you lose it? Do you leave it at boys' houses? I don't get why you need more!" It's not the consumerist over-inndulgent atitude she has a problem with; she seems pretty ok with buying clothes every month or so. But not underwear. "No one even sees it!" Let's not be so pessimistic, mom. Not that that's the point. You buy the clothes that you like, that make you happy. Other people see your clothes but no one notices them half as much as you do.

She found a high quality lingerie store near by and suggested we go. I thought either she was feeling guilty about something, wanted me to do something, wanted me to come home more often, something like that. But once we were there, she was picking up the lacey demi cups with the gorgeous seaming and the cute little straps isntead of her usual utilitarian nude full cups. I had to make sure I got what I wanted to try before she did. We could not get the same thing. Seeing a bra on my mom would ensure that I would never have the same lust for it as I would otherwise.

Buying underwear is always a little emotional, and I worried about my mom for a second. She started to lament that fact that no man would ever see her in her underwear again and she thought she was pathetic for buying something so pretty no one would see. I'm torn between telling her that she certainly is not done with men, she's not old, she's beautiful, if she wanted a man she could have one; and at the same time I don't want to think about that at all cause it's my mom.

I went throuh my schtick about how it's not for him, it's for you. And then I said what all girls tell each other out of kindness- "And it's not like guys really care that much, they're happy to see you in your underwear either way right?" She wasn't buying it. "I mean they aren't going to complain." "Yeah, exactly, they don't complain until they're leaving." Um. I'm gonna go look over here.

The sales girl insisted on measuring me, maybe she could tell that soetimes I talk myself in to something that doesn't really fit because it's just so pretty. I had been wearing a 34DD but the tape measurer said I am a 32DDD. Yikes. Two D's was scary enough...DDD? That's an F! F stands for failure! That's too much boob!

It's not the size on that bothers me, it's the limit that it puts on what I can acutally wear. There are like 3 labels that make bras that size that I would be willing to wear, and I can't really afford Agent Provocateur. Most places just have industrial strength hideous matronly contraptions with 8 hooks and padded straps.

Why is this? My shit is still cute, round, somewhat perky, I ceratianly don't need structural support of bridge-like proportions! And I am not the only girl my age with big tits. I know a lot of girls with D's, DD's, whatever. They are thin, young, their boobs look great. But they are not the kind of girls who buy pretty underwear. Or pretty clothes. They are not the kind of girls who think they are sexy. Is that why most bras only come up to a C? Is it because the well endowed girls don't buy lots of bras? And do those girls not buy pretty bras because they don't like their bodies so they hate doing it, or because all they can find are old lady bras?

It doesn't seem fair. Someone should let the bra people know that there's a retty high demand (me) and very little supply when it comes to pretty sexy lingerie for girls with spectacular tits.

I like a boy.

2007-10-16T19:20:00.000-05:00

I can't even be ambivalent, I tried. I fought it really hard, but it just got more difficult to convince myself the more emphatically and genuinely he explained himself. The good things (so sexy, so smart, apparantly crazy about me for more reasons than I thought) are irresistable and the bad things just seem like unfortunate misunderstandings and mistakes. Thursday night I just wanted to see him, he drove down.

While he was making the two hour drive I started to get nervous. I'm not as slim, toned, tan, highlighted, coiffed, polished, turned out as I would like to be. I thought about what I should wear, some pretty lingerie set, a little nighty, smokey eye makeup, heels?

Fuck that. I got out of the shower and combed my hair, put on the boxers and white cami I had on before and went back to watching Grey's Anatomy DVDs. There will be time for beautiful lingerie and fuck-me-heels soon.

Once we were in the bedroom he slowly peeled off all my clothes and laid me down on the bed, every inch of me in plain view. I couldn't have felt more comfortable or unselfconscious. "You look so gorgeous when you cum, I just wanna keep making you cum all night." We spent the night so intertwined with each other we couldn't have seen any of each other's flaws anyway.

Reluctant Cock Blocking

2007-10-14T15:40:00.000-05:00

I'm home this weekend, and today my 15 year old brother has his girlfriend visiting. I'm supposed to check on them every once in a while and make sure she's not going down on him. Last time my mom found them on the couch with her head under a blanket. My brother is very very cool, he's good looking, great at sports, and very good with girls. His girlfriend is quiet, agreeable and completely beautiful. Her parents seem not to worried about her spending the day at her boyfriend's house "watching movies," probably because she is a Good Girl. I think parents forget that Good Girls are really good at doing what they are told.

My mom has read their IM conversations (which is sick, but he did print them out and leave them in the printer?) and they mostly consist of him talking about what they're going to do to each other. She's sent him cell phone pictures of her boobs. Welcome to the club. That shit is fun. But I didn't do that till I was 20.

Maybe this is typical of 15 year old interactions, but the way they work is he sets up an afternoon, she comes over and does...something... and then she sits on the bed or couch while he watches football or plays video games. I wonder how long it will take for her to realize she should expect more of him. I mean seriously, she's so beautiful, he should be looking at her, not the tv!

When I was 15 I was sort of awkward with my boyfriend, we watched a lot of movies with a blanket over our laps, and like my brother and his girlfriend, out interactions were dominated by not wanting to say or do the wrong thing. But it was mutual, my boyfriend seemed invested and he wanted me to be comfortable and happy. Instead, I stressed over why he wasn't trying to get me to do more. I had to initiate everything advance, and as a result I was paranoid for ages that I wasn't desirable. And like Anonymous commmented, you aren't going to have any more self esteem after hooking up with someone that you started with.

I just wonder how long it's going to take my brother's girlfriend to realize that, and to figure out that she should demand what she wants instead of trying to be what she thinks he wants. It's sure taking me a long time to get that through my head (but does anyone really?) . I thought beautiful skinny girls were already like that.

So maybe it's negligent on my part but I'm not worried about them "going too far," I think she's within her right to give him head if she wants to. I just hope she doesn't let him make her watch him play video games because that shit is degrading.

Ambivalence

2007-10-04T17:27:00.000-05:00

How can it be possible to know someone is terrible for you, to be treated like shit over and over and tell yourself that you're never going to let them fuck with you again, and still entertain the thought that maybe it'll be ok this next time?

I'm disgusted with myself. How many times have you seen a friend of yours do the same thing and wonder how she could be so stupid? It seems impossibly moronic until you're doing it too. Your friends will try to help, but there's nothing they can do. They can pump you up and tell you you deserve better, they can cut him down reminding you of what a little shit he was before, they can probably tell you exactly what is going to happen to you if you don't stop talking to him right now, but all of that just makes you want him more. It's like when someone lectures you about cigarettes, everything is more enticing when it's bad for you.

But this is so much worse for me than smoking! Much more addictive. It's more like coke. How can you say no when it's right there in front of you? It's so sexy, and it makes you feel like The Hottest Shit Ever, but as soon as you get into it it starts to fade and the comedown is hell.

I feel like this is the story of my life- "Dating prudes sucks.... I miss you" No shit, FUCKER! I hate to play games and I hate to make guys jump through hoops and more than anything I hate having to hold out unnaturally long before having sex and that's why I'll probably never have a boyfriend again? I've been pretending for a while that I'm just so liberated and sex and the city about everything, that I don't want to get attached to someone, that I just want to be able to hook up with anyone without a thought. But that's bull shit. Maybe I'd like the be Samantha Jones or Slut Machine once in a while but I'm not.

I think the same way I assumed I was a loser in high school cause I got good grades, I just assumed I was a slut in college cause I loved having sex. It's not fair, I shouldn't have to choose. I don't think the girl you like having sex with has to be mutually exclusive from the girl you like. I know the Reformed Slut plotline is tired but honestly, it never really felt right! Just like how I smoked weed cause it was a thing to do in high school and provided an unchallenging social group in college but I figured out that I actually didn't like it much (damn, I'm gonna have to change the name of my blog!). I think if you have any self awareness and maturity you should be able to recognize if your sex life matters to you, and get past whatever puritanical mindset leads you to believe that amazing sex has to be a dirty little secret you hide from your friends or feel guilty about.

I got in way over my head a year ago, I didn't realize that wanting him so bad made him think less of me. It was like the more into him I was, the more I was letting myself go, the more disposable I was to him. Isn't that more than a little misogynistic?

The Reformed Asshole story arch may be a harder sell than that of the Reformed Slut. A reasonable person would never speak to him again, I mean seriously, am I a masochist?

I don't know.

I have a sick, sick habit.

2007-10-01T17:29:00.000-05:00

I did this randomly a while back, this summer, when I was drunk and my friends had passed out. Then later I did it again. I stopped for a while but Thursday night I couldn't help myself, and last night I needed it again, it kept me up half the night.

I post on Craig's List under Casual Encounters. I write a little vignette of the sort of things I'm wishing I was doing, just straigtforward smut. I've always kinda enjoyed writing that sort of thing. I put a picture or two, as well. A picture of me, without my face, in underwear or something.

Then I watch my inbox fill to the brim. I posted under DC thursday, I got about 75 responses in a half an hour and then they flagged and removed me. I didn't know I could be too dirty for Craig's List! I should win a prize.

Last night I posted the same thing for New York. I got about 250 responses before they removed me.

Lots of gorgeous men, lots of sad sad fucks, lots of married men making me sad and angry, lots of sweet sounding 18 year olds who want to lose their virginties. Lots of "Damn girl, your body is hot as shit!" (it's not) Lots of, "You must be a professional writer, that's better than anything I've read in penthouse!" And a whole lot of, "Are you for real? There's no way you're real"

Initially I'd be like, fuck yeah I'm real! Those pictures are real, I wrote all that, I thought all that, I want all that. But I guess I'm the same as the porn spam bots. I'm not in DC or New York, and even if I was I just don't have the balls to go through with it.

Why would someone do this? Of course I love the piles of praise and enthusiastic feedback. But surely I'm old enough now that I shouldn't be that excited to learn that the barely literate, the 'roided-up guidos, and the bored mid-life-crisis husbands will respond when I lay it out there. I mean, I could say anything, without a picture or flowing prose, I could just say "21 year old college girls wants to fuck".

A few years ago, like when I was a freshman, I was such a slut but I wasn't really having fun. I would go home with random guys because I was always so thrilled that they wanted me. It took me several months of college to become somewhat discriminating and differentiate between wanting someone and wanting them to want me.

Once I figured this out, I was pretty god for a while. Junior year, I'd flirt shamelessly and make out with someone at a party, only to laugh and run away when they asked me to leave with them. But that didn't really cut it, cause I'd still end up going home by myself.

Playing with Craig's List is like that. I have such good intentions, I just want to see what will happen, read some nice emails. A few, though, start to sound really really good. It's a good thing I have the geographical barrier as a safety net, or I might get myself in trouble.

New York!

2007-09-25T18:08:00.000-05:00

We had a lovely time in New York. Went to West Village Friday night, ran around to different bars, flirted with guys and drinking and then going to the bathroom and not coming back. I didn't pay for any drinks, this is awesome. We didn't really meet anyone interesting, and we noticed that we were both changing the way we talked, more "likes" and "you knows" and no big words. I stopped telling people I was a Chemistry major or that I was planning on going to grad school, I just made up random stuff. We started talking to two guys from the Cayman Islands at one lounge and we had some trouble getting away. I don't know why guys think they have to lay it on so thick. After talking for a few minutes, he's asking me what it would take to get me to fly in for the next weekend. I'm not going to pretend that I would do it, and I don't wanna argue about it, stop being such a leech. He says, "Have you ever dated a black guy before?"
"No...."
"Yeah I can tell!'
"What? What do you mean, how can you tell?"
"You're looking at me like I'm crazy!"
"Well thats cause you're saying crazy shit!"

The next night I wanted to go to the East Village. I'd seen all these cool weird bars that I thought it would be fun check out. We ran around to a few bars, but they were all full of little groups of people who didn't want to meet random girls. I can't really blame them. We decided we didn't feel like paying for our drinks so we went to the hotel bar. I felt a little lame for going to a hotel bar but it was really pretty and I sort of liked how hooker-ish it felt to hang out at a hotel bar in a slutty dress getting 35 year old out-of-town guys to spend money on us. While we were there we met some very good looking Federal Agents, in town for the Iran Presdient's visit to the UN. This is a good demographic- sexy, succesful, fun guys who would be married if they weren't too busy rocking the shit out of their jobs. Hmm I know a guy like that...

The next morning my dad came to see us for a little while. He was in Long Island, with his mistress. Yeah. Earlier last week he asked if I would be ok with meeting her. I said no, I wasn't comfortable. He's only recently moved out of the house, and I'm in no hurry to meet the woman who convinced him to adandon his wife and kids. We come down to the lobby and guess who is with him! Great. In spite of all the shots of top-shelf liquor the night before and my disgust at being ambushed like that, I managed not to vom all over her leathery fake-baked face. Instead I focused on the little turquoise box sitting in front of her. I was well behaved and polite and appreciative, even as they talked about how much fun they had picking it out together at the Tiffany's in Long Island. Gross.

Other than that, fantastic weekend.

2007-09-20T12:36:00.000-05:00

I'll be 21 in like, 10 hours. I'll be in New York in about 18 hours. I've been looking up bars all week, debating which of 6 supercute dresses to wear... I have never been so excited in my life. Oh my god I feel like I'm going to explode!

Bars

2007-09-16T11:00:00.000-05:00

I work in a bar this semester. I'm not 21, not till friday (more on that later...) so I've never really been in a bar. I work in the kitchen so it's not like I actually interact with drunk people, I just make drunk food. I actually like it a lot. Working in the kitchen is really unlike every other part of my life. i'm dirty and smelly and I have no makeup on and I probably have some sort of sauce in my hair. I don't see a mirror for 6-8 hours. I know that's a lame thing to think about, but I see all these pretty girls prancing around in heels and skirts looking turned out for a night of bar hopping and I look like someone vommed on me. I'm a little bitter.

Friday the power went out, so the kitchen shut down but the bar kept going. I went out there to wait for the power to come back, and I have never been hit on so much in my life, by a wide range of men. I had more drinks sent to me than I could possibly drink. It didn't even seem like they were being ironic or taking pity on me. Guys were coming out of no where to talk to me! The pretty girls were actually getting mad that they were being ignored. I can't stress enough that I looked like shit. The lighting was bad, the power was out and we were lit by candles and flashlights and emergecy exit signs but you could still see the stains on my shirt and the sweat on my face, I still looked a damn mess.

I'm not super hot, really. A 6 or a 7. I don't stand out, I'm not the girl guys try to talk to at the party. (I usually try to tell myself that this is because, like many "curvy" girls, I look a lot better naked than in clothes.) But apparantly I was shit-hot when I was rocking greasy hair and a dirty wifebeater. What the hell man? I'm not complaining, I love free drinks from sexy boys telling me I'm beautiful.

But what was going on? Was it that I looked very approachable? Did I look more "real"? Did I just stand out in a room full of turned out sorority girls? Did all that french fry grease give me an alluring glow? Did I look like I needed someone to rescue me?

This weekend my best friend and I are going to New York for my 21st birthday. Gonna get dressed up and go to bars and clubs I can't really afford. I'd really like to just have fun talking to random guys in bars, but I think I might have less luck with that when I'm all sexed up and pretty in a bar in Manhattan than when I'm dirty and sweaty in a college bar here.

BTW: Any New York bar or club suggestions are appreciated, my friend and I are not very cool.

Staying in For a While

2007-09-08T18:05:00.000-05:00

Back at school, I've been very well-behaved. I haven't been going out, or drinking, or smoking, eating like, fish and vegetables every day, going to the gym constantly. I decided to stop being so lame for one night and actually went to a party, looking all leggy and tan and blonde with a water bottle filled with Target Sauvignon Blanc. After a few rounds of flip cup, my bottle of wine, and a variety of shots, I ended up across the street and somehow wrapped up in a very sexy boy.

How does this shit happen? It seems to be independent of my intentions, circumstances just align that way, a perfect storm of looking good, having just the right kind of buzz, and that random burst of flirtatiousness. Where does this come from? Do I have no self control? We just kept making out, and then ended up in his car. In retrospect, it wasn't very secluded, but once I got started I couldn't stop. (I'm really bad at making out without kicking it up to a higher level.) My hand wrapped around his dick, and once you do that there's no going back. I'm hooked.

"I want to take you somewhere....tell me where to take you." For some reason, everything this boy said was making me want him. He grabbed my hips and pulled me into him. "I really wanna fuck the shit out of you." And see, for some reason, that killlled me. He must have realized it was turning me on to an irrational degree, cause he said it about 4 times between the party and my house, as I was half directing him but unable to get off his dick. This boy was addictive, everything I did got more and more of a reaction, and I'm a sucker for positive feedback.

When we get to my house, I see the flashing red and blue lights out of the corner of my eye. I straighten up and the cop comes over to the window. "You made some wrong turns, are you lost? Have you been drinking?" He takes my boy away as I look on, stunned, thinking, 'but I want you to fuck the shit out of me!' I figure out that that's not happening and I decide I should cut my loses and get my drunk as inside my house.

No such luck. Blocked by the woman cop! "Have you been drinking?" I figure it's best not to lie. yes. "How many drinks?" "3 or 4?" "We're gonna need you to take a field sobriety test." This is where I went wrong, I should have said no, I should have not brought my ID with me, I should have not given her my ID. I failed the standing on one foot test (it's hard, ok?) and I blew a 1.85. Awesome.

"Officer, this is my apartment, I'm about to go inside. I'll be 21 in 2 weeks, I don't have anything on me, I'm about to go home and go to bed"
"But you're outside, you stepped out of the car, of your own free will. You're under arrest for being drunk in public and underage possesion of alcohol" I'm handcuffed and pushed into a car with a little more force than I thought was necessary.
"Are we going to the police station?"
"No missy, I'm taking you to jail!"
"Shit, really?"
"Yes, really."

We drive for like 40 minutes, I can't stop talking, mostly I'm telling her how bad I feel for the poor boy who thought he was just just getting some road head and some good hard boning. I didn't say that, although I thought about it. "You see, if he was swerving it might not have been cause he was drunk, it might be because he looked about to blow a load all over his steering wheel." I at least had the presence of mind not to add Lewd Behavior to my list of offenses.

At the jail they take all my shit, they take my hair out of the braids and won't let me have my hair tie. I look disasteous. She asks for my earrings. "I'm not wearing earings" "Yes, you are." "Oh yeah, these! I'll get em back right? I love them" Yeah I'm a little drunk. She makes me wear a giant smock thing, with some comments about my revealing outfit. Bitch it's like 85 degrees at night, and I look hot as shit. They take mug shots and send me to a room with some other derelicts. We are not to talk to each other. after 2 hours we're each locked in seperate cells with a seatless toilet and a bench. It's the coldest room I've ever been in. They let us out at 11 am to get some water. They keep me there till 4. I got 3 new zits and no sleep. I never saw the sexy boy, I don't know what they did to him but it's breaking my heart that he's got an underage DUI because of me.

Anti-Feminist Agenda

2007-08-20T21:05:00.000-05:00

Being home means lots of bonding with my mom. She and my dad have just separated, and that's pretty much all we talk about. Sometimes it's fascninating and sometimes I'm so bored I want to die. She is very much of a different generation, and it's not that she's more traditional, it's more that in her attempt to be progressive, she lost what I would consider common sense. Things that should be obvious are somehow groundbreaking.

She tells me, "You know, I read in one of my books" (these fucking books are everywhere, with the most embarassing titles splashed across the front) "...that it is important for men to have a wife that is attractive, and also that they want for other people to think she is attractive." Imagine that. "And also, it's not that they just want sex all the time, which, oh god they do, it's terrible..." (Really? Terrible?) "...but they really want to think that you like having sex with them!"

I try to be nice, this is so hard for her, but sometimes I can't help but stare in disbeleif when she says these things. I said, "Well, yes, I would imagine so. I....I mean, I wouldn't know"

She says, "I bet that for a man, if a woman really loved having sex with him, he'd marry her in an instant. She'd never have to worry about anything because he would never leave her if she really always wanted to have sex with him."

I didn't know what to say. I think I said something along the lines of, "Oh I'm sure that's an oversimplification, I don't know about that." How could she even say that? I guess it's a convenient theory for her. It would be much easier for her to blame her lack of interest in sex than something more fundementally wrong, something she cared about more. I think she considered sex with her husband a form of subjugation, maybe she felt very liberated by not having to have sex with him. I don't know. One time she told me only prostitutes performed oral sex. I thought sex with my husband would be the best part of marriage. I mean, partly for my own gratification (obviously) but also, I just like taking care of a boy, taking the time to give a well-deserved blow job seems like an extension of that, like cooking dinner and listening to his probelms and rubbing his back when he's tired. I know, I know, I'm not a very good feminist. Just don't tell my mom.

Momentum

2007-08-15T22:20:00.000-05:00

Without fail, any success with one guy begetts more. It shouldn't suprise me anymore, especially since it makes such perfect sense. I mean, how attractive am I when it's clear to everyone around me I haven't gotten any in months? That drain on my self-esteem is probably palpable. But the upward trend is even more noteable.

The drunk dial praise I got a week ago gave me a little momentum, I know that makes me lame as hell but hey, I'll take it. That gave me the boost to get off my ass and go see that guy, even though I'd been psyching myself out, thinking he would most likely be disappointed with me.

Coming home on the train, this guy across the asile is sneaking glances. Mmm hi. As he gets off the train he taps me on the shoulder.
"Excuse me beutiful, I think you dropped this?" I look at the piece of paper in his hand.
"What?" I am so smooth.
"That's my phone number, I think you dropped it, here ya go."
Then I tried to be cool and flirty. I think it worked. "Oh thanks, I was looking for that."
"Good, I hope I talk to you soon."

How fucking cute, right? That's never happened to me before, someone randomly giving me their phone number!

Then a friend of mine asked me to go to a movie with him this afternoon. I figured a movie at 1:30 would mean no hooking up. He brought me chocoalte from his trip to Switzerland, bought the tickets in advance so I couldn't protest, held my hand throughout the movie, tried to surreptitiously move his hand up my skirt while I kept my legs tightly crossed. He brought me home and we made out on my couch, high school stylee. After probably confusing the hell out of him with my inability to put out, I pretty much kicked him out. What a bitch. Sorry sweetie, your timing was just so off.

But I am afraid now that in doing that, I have stopped the trend; I'm about to get some bad karma.

Mini-Vacation

2007-08-14T20:31:00.000-05:00

I wasn't even going to go at first. I starting talking to this boy I went out with two years ago, just flirting a little online, talking about how much fun we used to have. I'd always back off when he wanted to make plans to see each other. This boy is lovely, so sweet to me, chilled out and fun, fucking gorgeous blonde hair blue eyes tall great shoulders. When we were together 2 years back, he would sometimes look at me in that adoring, heartbreakingly sweet way that I didn't think I could possibly deserve, since I felt like I was just going through the motions.

He was great to be around but I had never wanted him bad, I didn't ache for him, I didn't lose my mind when he fucked me. He'd never gotten me off, and that didn't seem like a problem to him. Being 18, I wasn't so demanding back then, but that certainly did nothing to motivate me to go see him. Planning a visit, he was raving about how great I am at giving head (and yeah, you should always say that to a girl, I know) and he said, "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, too" Oh really? That'll be interesting. "I have the place to myself, we can just hang out all day, laying out in the sun, fooling around, drinking a lil, be naked all day, just have a nice little vacation for you before you go back to school." Well ok.

In the car on the way to his house, we were both eye-fucking the shit out of each other. I thought, I don't care if he can't bone, dude looks good. Back at his house, I sat on the couch and glanced across the room at him, tracing my collarbone with my finger. Kind of shamelessly. "Oh babe," he said, dropping his things and walking towards me. "Look at you." Making out on his couch, I started to realize this was not the same guy from two years ago. This kid had grown up. When his hand slid up my skirt I figured out he was going to be orders of magnitude better. Soon he was making me moan and laying me down on my back. He pulled my leg over his shoulder and started fucking me slowly, perfectly, better than I could imagine. My skin was on fire.

Where did you come from? How long have you been able to do that? Why didn't you tell me? Baby if I had known what you could do to me, I'd have come to see you months ago. I would have made time.

We stayed in our underwear all day, sitting outside drinking and smoking, coming back inside to play some more. He more than "took care of me," I came so hard and for so long I thought I would never walk again and I didn't really care. I still can't beleive this is the boy from 2 years ago, the one that told me not to move my hips when we fucked cause it would make him cum too fast, the one that said doggy style was gross, the one who didn't know what a clit was. I don't know what happened, but he should be very pleased with himself. He fucked me every way possible all over that house, and every time, every position was perfect, fluid, and beautiful to watch. I wish I had a camera. Everything came naturally- I've never been a fan of being on top, but straddling his lap, my hips just went and went, thinking for themselves, grinding perfect circles up and down on his dick. The entire day was this deep slow burn, amazingly getting better and better each time.

The weird thing is, it was like boyfriend sex. That's the only way I can think to describe it. I mean, it was incredibly hot, which was enough of a suprise, but it felt like he wanted to take all of me in, he took his time even as I was bucking my hips against him. He would stop for a few seconds and just look at me, run his hands over my body, brush the hair out of my eyes, kiss my neck.... After we were done he would stay inside me, holding me and kissing me.

The next day he made me breakfast and I layed out on his patio. He brought me a drink, just generally spoiled the hell out of me. He sprayed both of us down with the mist setting on the hose, little droplets of water beading up on our skin. As I layed there drying off in the sun, he got up and came over to me. "Ok you just look too good right now, I have to have you." He pulled off my suit and his and went at it in the backyard. I can't even tell you how many times I have fanatsized about that, laying out tanning until some gorgeous boy tears off my bathing suit and takes me right there. God, I nearly died.

When we weren't doing that we were talking all night, life stories and everything. Why was I so dismissive of him for so long? This kid is perfect, but I can't be with him. I felt like I was right where I wanted to be, completely at ease. Standing in his kitchen, he pulled me close to him and brushed my hair out of my eyes and said, "I could fall in love with you, you know." Oh don't tell me that.

The Office-Mate

2007-08-10T17:59:00.000-05:00

This guy that works in my office is incredibly awkward, and not in a fun-weird way. He's the kind of awkward where his contributions to a conversation are always followed by uncomfortable silences. He's got a little Napoleon Dynamite in him. The first time he drank with us, I found him alone in my roommate's dark room lying on the floor. For final presentations, we dressed up a little, some guys wore ties, some wore sport coats. This guy wore an oversized, boldly pinstriped suit and a shiny doubleknotted tie. He stayed in that suit for 3 more hours after we got back from work.

Last night, after getting drunk with us, he gives me a slightly slurred call-

"Since I'm not gonna see you again, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're like, really hot. Seriously Sarah, no you are, yeah, you're gorgeous. I mean, I'd say you're like a 9. on a 1 to 10 scale. I mean, if I didn't have a girlfriend I'd totally be trying to hook up with you huh huh huh.... yeah and like, don't feel like, bad that you don't have a boyfriend, you're really pretty and you just need to put yourself out there more, and just like, keep in mind that a lot of guys are really shy too, and they don't wanna tell you this stuff, and um, some guys may seem really weird and a little creepy but when you get to know them they're really smart. Yeah. So yeah, I think you're really hot. We should keep in touch. Yeah ok bye."

First of all, I'm not that hot. On a good day, maybe a 7. These days I'm averaging 5. I have a gargantuan beer belly, my skin looks like I've been partying for a month straight (which shouldn't suprise me) and I have about 2 inches of dark roots in my hair. Last night I was looking especiall un-gorgeous, having ran around drunk in the rain in lieu of taking a shower.

But I'll take it. I feel pretty bad-ass right now. It's kind of sweet, right?

I have this inconvenient habit of being overly friendly to guys I think are freaking weirdos. It's so much easier to talk to someone when you think you're cooler than them. Around someone I was actually into I would just be weird and unpleasantly awkward.... kinda like this guy.

2007-08-03T09:31:00.000-05:00

The Agent Provocateur sale has started.
I really shouldn't buy things I can't afford.
I don't think I can help myself...

Craig's List Shenanagins

2007-07-22T10:28:00.000-05:00

I was a little bored before I went to bed last night, and just a little drunk. Decided to read through some Craig's List Casual Encounters posts. Sometimes you find guys who express themselves very well, their descriptions are enjoyable to read. And some are just plain funny.

Looking at the women for men section... There were not nearly as many (duh) and no one was even trying to write anything remotely interesting.

Without thinking, I started writing a post..."You find me in my room, in just my betsy johnson bra and matching thong...holding my wrists above my head, my back against the wall, your hand slides down my waist..." and then I get a little explicit. I didn't describe anything out of the ordinary, but I showed little restraint with the description. (I just got the betsey johnson bra, I'm a little enamoured of it right now.)

So I wrote out a nice little vignette, only like 200-300 words but it looks like that's a lot for Craig's List. Wrote a little blurb describing myself. I was honnest but generous? Like, I said "blonde" instead of light brown hair with full highlights, roots in need of some maintainance". I also pretty much said I wanted to find someone to hook up with. That part was a lie. I couldn't do that. I would be terrified; no way do I want it that bad. I was just having fun. It's probably not entirely ethical of me?

I threw some pictures on there, too. Real ones, taken last semester with a shitty camera phone in my shitty dorm room with shitty lighting. No face pictures.

I posted at 2:40 and went to bed.

When I woke up at 9:30, I had 143 new emails. I've seen more penises this morning than a eurologist. About half included pictures. ages ranged from 18 to 57 (The 57 year old told me to check out his myspace for pictures. I didn't)

A few had nice lil stories to read. A lot of them just said what I said, but differently. Whatever, that works. Some of them managed to sound very good in their emails, but the picture made it impossible to take them seriously. Why, for that kind of conversation, would you include the least sexy picture possible? In suits, always in suits, for some reason! Why? It's not like I asked for pictures.

I got more than a few "Holla back, shawty". Awesome.
One guy had held a can of gillette shaving gel up to his dick, to demonstrate the nearly identical shape and size.

I thought this one was good, too...
"cute post,
when u decide that you want to quit writing about it, and want to live it,,, let me know. and frankly, i wont be following your lil program. ill create my own, stating with u on ur knees, and me with my hands wrapped in ur hair..."
I cut out the rest... A little hostile but at least he understood the tone of the post.

"Fake boobs at 20? The pics are a scam"
Ummm no they're not, dude. But thanks!

"Like try Older male I'll make you fill with Joy . Scream like a roller coaster ride and hold on !!!"

"This dark Adonis knows how to give you an amazing 3weeks before you leave. "

"Christ your ad made me hard"
Ad?!?

"Hi, I'm 5'10", 170 lbs, I'd like to put it in you."

"Can audition on cam for you"

"Wow girl great intro.. I feel like I'm right there in the room with you."

"So, an unusual question for you: do you get seasick?"
what?

"Bend you over the chair?? I will fuck you 5 ways from Sunday"

One guy was really into the styling of the pictures... loved the gritty resolution and the cinderblock walls, reminded him of college. Interesting.

As I was scanning the emails, I saw a very familliar name and I started to flip the hell out. What is he doing looking for ass on Craig's List? He would obviously recognize my pictures, maybe even my writing. Oh god what if he thought I was serious? What if he thought I was actually trying to hook up? I had thought I was safe in my anonymity....

I open the email, bracing myself.... and an unfamilliar picture pops up. Different guy. Same name. Thank god.

Dear Self Control,

2007-07-14T15:39:00.000-05:00

What the fuck man? We were doing so well. As recently as 10:00 last night I was singing your praises over the phone, and I truly believed we were cool now. You know, Self Control, I really thought we were gonna be BFFs, I thought you were gonna be there for me when I said to myself and to anyone that would listen, "no way am I going to hook up with that asshole ever again."

And I kept saying it, all through the night, even as it became increasingly clear that it was nonsense. I was counting on you to be there for me, Self Control. I was so sure that you had my back (along with all my friends that promised not to leave as long as he was here) that I neglected to check myself or monitor my behavior in the slightest. I thought you, and my friends, were around watching out for me and suddenly you were all gone! And I think you took Rational Thought with you too.

The fact that I was drunk enought to usurp the title of Sloppy Scientist might have had a deleterious effect on you, poor Self Control, but that is no excuse. I need more from you. Simply repeating "Oh there's no way I'm hooking up with that douchebag ever again" while my clothes come off is not remotely helpful.

I was actually very amused by your ineffectual late arrival in the morning. No longer drunk, almost awake, peering through the haze of my hangover, I thought I saw you, Self Control, and you made some attempt to stop me from doing whatever we were in the middle of doing. I couldn't handle the change in directions (seriously where the fuck were you before I got started?) so I got a little lost.

My ambivalence came out thusly- instead of deciding what to do (stop? kick him out? keep going?), I went back and forth between pulling him on top of me and pushing him off, wrapping my legs around him and pushing his hands away from me, etc. And then I realized that it was not you, Self Control. In you place you had decided to send in your semiretarded cousin, Bat Shit Crazy. I should have know Bat Shit Crazy would make an appearance.

Step up your game, Self Control.
-Sarah

"Is it true that if you don't use it, you lose it?"

2007-07-04T20:32:00.000-05:00

I've lost interest in sex. Don't care at all.
The fact that I'm smoking weed again probably helps.

I also suspect that my virginity has grown back.
Score.

I wonder what would happen if I went for a whole year...

iDrunkText

2007-06-30T11:01:00.000-05:00

Loved College Callgirl's post on The Rules; namely, that following them is effectively pretending to have a busy, interesting life.

When someone is blowing you off for a while you have these stages, I guess. First you obviously want them a little more, they're so elusive and you're still expecting to hear from them, and then you're so mad at them you can't wait to tell them what an asshole they are. And then you realize what a useless approach that would be and you say you're never going to talk to them again but in the back of your mind you worry that they will just have great timing and try to talk to you when youre bored/lonely/horny, and it'll all go to shit. And then they slip out of your mind and you forget they exist. Success.

Gotta love when someone randomly text messages you and you are so busy having a fantastic time to look at your phone, and you don't see a 10:30 text message til 3:30. (5 hour rule?) Why even respond? Just to let the know you're not ignoring them but you've been going strong all night? That's a little petty of me but it's satisfying.

I've just had such a fantastic week. Getting blazed out of my mind monday, watching my friends race through crowds with traffic cones over their heads and flipping face first over benches, wing night, busting out the speakers thursday, made a fantastic 5 course dinner last ight and crashed Courtny's party. Everyone I know either brings their own beer or throws in for a case or whatever. This girl spent $80 on alcohol and reminded us all week that we could drink for free in her room friday.

Last night was just too good. I love that even though everyone's apartment is a two minute walk, the boys sleep over with us most nights. Love these kids. A random text message just seemed so out of place. I look at my phone as we're all getting in bed and I was just confused. I thought, doesn't he know it's summer time? Why does he even have time to text me? Durring school I'd text message whole conversations, now that shit drives me crazy cause I get shit to do.

But seriously I think he just got an iPhone and texted everyone he knows.

2007-06-20T17:39:00.000-05:00

In the car coming back from lunch, this guy is talking about how you should always check out the mom of the girl you'r'e hooking up with. I said, "well sure, if you want to marry her or something."
"Well.... that's the point of dating isn't it?"
"Is it? I was not aware of that. I guess I didn't get the memo."
"umm yeah. I mean, why else would you date someone?"
"Cause you like them? To have fun?"
"Uh maybe the kind of fun you're having" (slut).
"Would you really never go out with someone you couldn't potentially marry?"

That can't be true, right? For a normal, educated, otherwise progressive 22 year old to think that, to not be able to enjoy being with a girl he wouldn't want to marry? I'm so out of the loop.

Running Amok

2007-06-19T08:49:00.000-05:00

Season 2 of the Real World- Summerfield Suites has a lot less sex and drama and a lot more hotel party shenanagins. I like this return to innocence, the high-school style fun is refreshing.

I love that kids who were here from last year will allude to the shit we got into back then. Specifically, the shit I got into. Doing it for the story is a lot more rewarding when you get to tell the story. Some of my friends from last year made cryptic references to the gazebo in front of the hotel. "the lunch dates don't even compare to gazebo dates" 'I don't know if I would eat in the gazebo, it's been defiled." On a smoke walk last night two new friends asked me, 'what exaclty happened in the gazebo?" I giggled. Um. "You fucked someone in the gazebo didn't you? I knew it!"
"Well not exactly"
"You did something ridiculous."
"Well there were three of us..."
"Please tell me it was you, and two guys"
"No it was me and this girl from Smith and Sam but, whatever, it was more for the story. I didn't really mean to. It was like, fun I guess, until I see these flashes coming from the bushes, and I try to pull my clothes back on and I'm like, what the fuck is that shit!? And there is Sam's roommate Rhyan, with his fucking camera, having crawled under the bushes to watch. I was so mad, I could have killed him, I told him I hated him and I was gonna kill him in his sleep, and then he punched me in the back of the head. It was a big fucked up mess then, but it's funny now, right?"
"Um yeah. I hope you get just as ridiculous this year. I'll try to make that happen for you."

Somehow I think I'll be (relatively) good this year. After the first week here, I hooked up with "Baby Daddy" Kyle, even though I sort of knew he had a baby but I figured that was his problem. Fooled around that first Jager-soaked Thursday night, and then he invited himself over to my room the following week when my roommate was gone. He layed down on my bed and I sort of sighed and thought, why the hell not? He's already here, I've got nothing else to do, we've already hooked up sort of, he's actually pretty attractive in spite of himself, could be really fun.

The lighting in the room was sort of low and warm and flattering but he turned off all the lights so it was totally dark. I don't know the last time I hooked up with someone in total darkness. I beleive it was either because someone's roommate was asleep near by or because we were deep in the woods at night. What guy does that? If the options are like, fluorescent dorm lights or nothing, than yeah, let's turn those fuckers off, but when we have soft, lampshade-filtered light and I'm freshly tanned and waxed and I've shaved my legs and my underwear is cute (incidentaly, not for this shit) why do I have to be cloistered in the dark like it's some big secret? Dude wasn't shy about telling me his intentions in front of a few other people. freaking weirdo.

He was really time-efficient (I guess when you have a baby you have to be?) and then he stayed in my bed a while, talking about how great he is at computer programing and how big of a deal he's going to be when he gets published. You can't see someone roll their eyes in total darkness so I guess it was ultimately a good idea.

It was very fluid and easy and effortless and comfortable (and unremarkable) and I thought as he left that it was good that he was the kind of guy who wouldn't be awkward around me and my friends later. But he has been noticably absent from everything for the past 2 weeks, almost reclusive. It's like he maxed out in the first week. It's not that he doesn't talk to me, he doesn't talk to anyone, doesn't eat with anyone, doesn't drink with anyone.

But anyways. I'm sort of disenchanted with the hooking up, and am almost inclined to just not do anything for the rest of the summer. That might happen whether I decide it or not but at least with this approach I could pretend it was my decision, not my incompetance.

Instead I'll keep having good clean fun, stealing traffic cones and pulling numbers of the buidings at the hotel and staying up all night with a case of beer, getting blazed in the bushes behind summerfield and sitting in the hottub with my aviators on at night and watching Dark Side of the Rainow after Pinot and Percs and drinking Franzia out of a nalgene bottle on the metro. I'm enjoying being 16 again.

Love my life.

2007-06-10T11:31:00.000-05:00

Have been spending every evening sitting outside on the patio by the pool with wine or beer with a fantastic crowd of people talking and having a great time till the security guard tells us to go back to our rooms. I could do this for the rest of my life, this is like vacation.

Gratuitous All-Nighter

2007-05-03T01:23:00.000-05:00

I don't have that much work. Just a paper on reasons adolescents and young adults make bad decisions. I know, right? I didn't pick that to be ironic, it sort of turned into that. The conclusion seems to be that you're going to end up like your parents. I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do.

I actually used to think my parents were really smart and made good decisions, but watching them do this separating thing, I don't know, at least now I feel like every asinine thing I've done isn't my fault, I was raised by morons.

My dad married this girl out of college, they were engaged for a year or two while he was a grad student and he was teaching undergrad classes and fooling around with his students while she lived at home. He married her and that worked out for a little while and then fell apart.

Then he met my mom. She had recently had me, and my biological dad had left and moved to Japan under circumstances I don't understand. I'm scared to ask; it will only make me feel awful, and if she wanted to tell me she would. My (step)dad is still married to the girl from college and starts to move in on my mom, who is abandoned with a Baby Sarah. I suspect this whole rescue-fable which my mom feels she deserves after the blows she's had and my dad feels he's redeemed for cheating on and then discarding his wife. They get married and drink a lot of wine and have a baby and move back to the east coast.

My dad's ex girlfriend from high school looks him up through one of those ads on the Internet, she'd heard about him winning an award at an alumni event she attended because she still lives a mile away from that high school and never went to college. She's really impressed with his success and his money and all his nouveau riche grandeur (unlike my mom who is actually just as smart as him and will remind him every chance she gets) and she's between husbands or something so she starts sending him flowery emails about being each others' First Loves, how they were Meant To Be.

I'm sure it's not like, her fault. Nobody cheats on their wives if their marriage is going well. Actually, no one would get caught cheating if their marriage is going well. You obviously need to want to get caught. It's really classic, there are lots of books about it and my mom bought them all and leaves them on every end table and coffee table in sight. (we get it, you can read, you're smarter than her) When she first told me about it, she said, "I don't understand...she's not even educated!" Yeah she never corrects him on his interpretation of an NMR spectrum or calls him out for not understanding viscosity measurements as well as she does or explains something to him, he always gets to be smarter.

So now he's addicted to feeling like the intellectually superior benefactor like he was addicted to feeling like the altruistic hero and this time it's not as endearing when he says he can't be reasoned with, that it's true love and no one else understands. I'd like to think I would know better but the research suggests...not so much

Is poor decision making in adolescents influenced by their parents or their peers? I should really work on that paper.

thanks for that

2007-05-02T14:35:00.000-05:00

Just had one of the best self-induced, non battery powered orgasms in a while. I didn't even mean to. An accident. I was thinking about someone I shouldn't be thinking about for like, a list of reasons. Not a reason that would abviously make it hotter, like, “You can't do that, he's your teacher!” or a reason that makes it actully wrong, like “You can't do that, he's 16!” but a reason along the lines of, “You can't do that, that will end very very badly for you, and you should know better.” Normally when that sceario comes up in my head I either find something else to do, or I just... pretend it's someone else, that I have yet to meet, who makes me cum as good as he does but without the negative side effects. I can dream.

I'm hesitant, of course, to get off thinking about him That's soo maladaptive, right? The idea is to hook up with new people. But rather than stop myself this time I let it play out in my head. I was not unreasonable, obviously it's tempting to imagine him saying something like, oh you're so much hotter/better than the girl I'm dating now, but come on, even when rubbing one out I wouldn't be that self indulgent. I mean, no one's that predictable right?

No, actually more fun than feeling superior, I was enjoying the anxiousness I'd enevitably feel in such a situation, ya know, where you want to but you shouldn't... it's fun to imagine the knowing looks that say, Come on I know you're dying for it, your attempts at self control aren't fooling anyone. And as I sat there with his hand up my skirt some part of my brain would be pleading with me to stop him and I'd like to think that I would (in real life), but see, when it's in your head, you can do whatever you want. So, if I did let that shit go down, it might feel something like....ooh just like that. Mmm thanks babe.

2007-05-01T14:38:00.000-05:00

Dear classes,

I have had about enough of you, and I am tired of your unreasonable demands. You have the audacity to expect my attendance on a regular basis, you require I get out of bed before noon, you eat up my time with your tedious shit like reading and paper writing, you impede on my gym time, my nap time, my tv watching, and you seem to keep happening durring peak tanning hours of the day.

Tired of your shit,
Sarah

P.S. we are so over.

IM slut

2007-04-30T22:13:00.000-05:00

Wrapping up classes this week, finals coming up, papers to write... I need someone to distract me. I'm scanning my buddy list for gratuitous inappropriate late night IMing. Where are all the ex boyfriends, ex whatevers? I want to take a trip down memory lane, wax nostalgic for Back In The Day, last year, 2 years ago, even high school, I could still come up with some fun flashbacks. I'm dying for one of those familliar but somehwat obselete kids to pop up in a little window on my screen, asking me if I remember that one time... one of those boys who happened long enough ago that the gritty ungraceful details and mishaps have disapeared and left behind just the sense of accomplishment, of a job well done, and geographically far enough away that nothing I say would get me in trouble ;-) . These little random IMs, they are like finding money in your jeans, and when you realize what they intend to talk about for the next half hour, that's like when you pull out that bill and baby it's a fucking twenty. Jackpot. Talk to you later, homework.

My ex boyfriend from high school is surprisingly good at this, but I don't think I can just IM him and be like, excuse me, I'm bored, could you gratuitously flirt with me like you sometimes do? Could you do that thing where you talk about how much you still want me and we make really realy vague plans to fuck each other's brains out?

2007-04-27T18:07:00.000-05:00

Exactly!

It's really too bad, the way these things seem to work. And even understanding why something didn't work, and what you did wrong and being able to pin point the psychological mechanism that invariably ruins you doesn't make you any more capable of doing it right the next time around.

I will never be a Rules kinda girl. It's not that I don't want to play mind games or that I have some naive idea that you should always be yourself. I think I am just incapable of withholding sex as a means of negotiating. I blame this for all my problems. I understand that pursuit is important. It's like, in the first chapter of the social psych textbook. If you have to work hard for something, you're going to convince yourself that it was worth the work. The longer you wait in line to see the movie, the better you think it is. If you take a girl on lots of nice dates and bend over backwards to make her like you and she holds out on you for as long as possible, once you end up with her you aren't going to want to break up with her and admit to yourself how much time you've wasted because that would make you feel like a fool.

I do it too, I would not break up with my boyfriend a year ago because we had spent so much time together and even though we were making each other's lives miserable I didn't want to admit that I'd spent that much time screwing up my life more. I came up with ridiculous justifications, tried to tell myself that being happy all the time was for stupid people, that being unhappy was actually enlightenment, that I would be sadder without him. Obviously this was something worthwhile, or I wouldn't have put all this work in, right?

I know I make things too easy. I want you all the time, I'm happy to suck your dick, I'm thrilled when you touch me, when you make me cum I feel like there's nothing else I could want out of life. I'm saying, it doesn't take that much to make me happy. I don't have high expectations, and I am not trying to change that about myself. I've discovered I like being happy.

It's not in my nature to be challenging! It's counter intuitive to me. If I want you, I feel lucky to get you and I let you know. But I know this is effectively sabotage, clever girls know to act like you're the lucky one, like they're doing you a favor by letting you touch them. I don't mind being the lucky one. I think it's great when I get exactly what I want. I am not that good an actress, I can't pretend that I'm not turned on by you so much as looking at me, I can't pretend that I'm not dying to make you cum, and even though I know I shouldn't make it easy I just can't bring myself to do anything that would make it harder. I don't want to be a chore. I want to be the reward; for what, I don't know or care. I want to be the guilty pleasure, I want to be no work and all play.

Is there some puritanical pro-work ethic mindset that makes you think that it can't be that easy? I firmly believe that you can have it all without any suffering, if you have the presence of mind and the cognitive ability to not feel guilty for having fun. And if not, if you don't buy it, there are plenty of self righteous vindictive emasculating girls out there with hoops for you to jump through, if that helps you sleep at night.

2007-04-15T12:56:00.000-05:00

I had a Britney Spears Moment and cut off all my damn hair. Well, about 2 inches of it. And I figured, hey I can do an edgy layered thing right? I look like a dykey soccer mom who got lost in the woods for a month. Or like Mrs. Brady. Or Brenda from Six Feet Under.

I blame Bravo for this. I watch that horrible show Shear Genius, and I think, if these retards can cut hair than I can, right?

I pity the poor stylist who I will soon ask to fix this mess. I better give them a big ass tip.

I'm losing my mind and I think it's cause I'm boring now. I don't drink or smoke or fuck inappropriate people or stir up drama or black out at clubs or do lines of adderal in the library so I guess I need some other outlet for asinine impulsive behavior. At least I didn't actually buy that blonde dye I had in my hand the other day. Maybe I'll manage to pull of a great short haircut, look all together and grown up (haha). Or maybe I'll just look like a dude.

I know, right?

2007-04-11T11:00:00.000-05:00

"Dear Cocaine,
You are the real South Beach Diet.
Jessica"

I don't care for Ecstacy

2007-03-30T09:49:00.000-05:00

I think E is a little over-rated. I used to think it would be such a perfect drug for me, fascilitating slutty hedonistic behavior so well, but I didn't plan on like, looking for it because it sounded so bad and taboo, not an everyday drug like weed or coke. Also people had told me that if I had sex on Ecstacy I would never have an orgasm again. This scared me when I was like, 16, and they were relatively hard to come by, but later I was like, bitch please, I think I have it under control, thanks.

My ex boyfriend Will offered it when we were hanging out one night. We'd been broken up for a while and were getting back into being friends, which would turn into sex soon enough. This was like our third time around. We're sitting on a bench and his skeezy dealer friend walks by. Will puts is arm around me and says, "Hey John to you have any E?" John looks back and forth at us. He hates me. 'For two? yeah" Wil asks me if I want to. and offers to pay. It's so unsmooth and obvious it's almost endearing. "Yeah but I'm not going to have sex with you." Will gets 10 points for not laughing out loud. "uh yeah....ok."

Our shit was in powder form. Reliable sources have informed me that this means it's good, but that shit tore up my nose so I made him give me a ritalin to chase it with.

As we started making out I fell back into sex-with-Will mode very thouroughly. You know how when you hook up with someone you used to be familliar with, but haven't had in a while, it takes you a little while to remember what to do with them, exactly? It didn't take me very long, maybe because Will is so fucking weird. He used to beg me to smack him in the face when we fooled around, and if I was mad at him I could, but I think I killed the sentiment by saying "omigod I'm so sorry dude are you ok you sure?" One time he was shredding a tire with a knife and when I asked him why he said h was making a cat o nine tails for me to use on him. I think I was wearing a pink polo and pearls at the time, and I laughed my ass off. He really wanted to be tied up and whipped, beaten, fucked in the ass with a strap on, and I truly wanted to be a good girlfriend, I swear, but I just can't.

the best I could do was the standard hair pulling, biting, and scratching when we were fucking, which I doled out in full effect under the influence of E. Later we were doing lines with Paul and Will had not put his shirt back on. He kept walking around, probably oblivious to the vicous clawings all over his back. I tore that kid up, I think I drew blood. He had a scar a week later. I'm almost proud of myself.

But really, the sex, not that good. I gave it 100%, I worked hard, but far from the "best sex i'd ever had", as so many people had said it would be. Not even the best sex I ever had with Will. The high felt more like a combination of whippets and drunkeness, which made me feel a little dissociated, like I was directing myself from on off-screen location. I came but I never got to where I know I could, I didn't feel my head spin, my body didn't fill up and explode, my legs didn't shake, I didn't get a real, thourough release. I could tell that I was done but I felt like maybe I had missed it, like I hadn't been paying attention. Stupid Ecstacy. I guess there are no drugs that go well with sex?

summer time

2007-03-28T20:23:00.000-05:00

This is where I will be living this summer. With 100 other students. Just like last year. Across the street there is a grocery store, an ekered, a chinese food place, and a liquor store. We made booze runs like 3 times a week.

It seems inevitable that people would hook up, right? We did, of course, but the only thing worth noting was Rhyan and Nora. Rhyan is unlike anyone I have ever met. He looks like an abercrombie model and he is probably a sociopath. He was truly mean to people (girls) and didn't ease up when it hit a nerve (I swear this guy thrived of off girls' body issues).

On a drunken night he hooked up with Nora. Nora is cute, not gorgeous, she has a preppy body type but not thin (no boobs, flat ass. I'm not criticizing, she looks great in J Crew. She worked there. I'm jealous) But she did that thing that girls do, where she figured now they were going out and that she could expect him to hang out with her most nights, that she could sleep in his bed whenever she wanted, that they would keep hooking up.

I don't think he liked her, but he didn't want to admit to himself that he was hooking up with a girl he didn't like, so rather than back off he just let it come out as nasty comments and mean gestures. He would make fun of the way her ass didn't totally fill out her bathing suit bottom as she was coming out of the pool, in front off their whole group of friends. He would cut her down in big groups, play little tricks on her, just genenrally treat her like crap. She assured me he was different when they were alone.

One night they were playing around and he held her arm and punched her right in the center of her upper arm, over and over. It was the worst bruuise I've ever seen and I've plent of drunkenly acquired bruises. It was black, about 3 inches across, and it lasted more than a week till it turned that sick yellow color. She thought it was great. She wore short sleeves even when we were all wearing sweaters against the air conditioning, she doodled on it at work with a sharpie, drew arrows pointing to it, and showed it to anyone she could. She was proud of it, she thought it meant she was in with his crew.

I thought it was kind of sick, both that he would hit a girl, that hard, and that she would take it so cheerfully. The dynamic was representative of every interaction- Rhyan beat up on her and she took it and thought it meant they were close, that she understood him. It's heartbreaking to watch, I just hope I never end up letting that happen to me.

Maybe this summer will be less theatrical.

self help?

2007-03-25T21:45:00.000-05:00

Had to kill some time with my mom in Barnes and Noble. She lured me to a corner of the store saying she wanted to look at cookbooks, but somehow the rack of Save-Your-Marriage books pulled her in. I ducked out to read some diet books, but they got sort of depressing. (I can't have coffee?!) I told her that, and she said her books were depressing too. "This books says he wants to leave me because I am not attractive enough, this books says anything I do will make it worse, and this one says he decided to leave me years and years ago and has just been biding his time. Here, you should read this." Hands me a book the size of an encyclopedia called, "1,000 Lies Men Tell". I could probably abridge that for her. "Umm I'm gonna go read more about how to be skinny" You know, an ounce of prevention.

Lines

2007-03-16T22:51:00.000-05:00

Apprantly wanting something is not the same thing as liking it. This great article in Elle, with a fascinating study on dopamine in rats (Elle - Vogue for science majors!) described how it's so hard to consciously differentiate between the two but they are not nearly as correlated as you'd think.

Coke is exemplary. Not that I don't love the actual high from coke, the way you can feel it in your bloodstream in the front of your face, the way your mouth feels with the powderey residue on your gums, etc, dude you know what I mean. But god, I love the buildup.

Before spring break my friend Paul came to school. He'd dropped out a while ago, he's the friend you have that is your Drug Friend, and he might be the sexiest guy I've ever seen at that school. after talking to him about getting coke, I went to the apartment where he'd be. He was playing guitar for hours in another room, but the time I spent making half-assed small-talk made me so much more excited when he walked in the room.

Paul always wears silky pajama pants and a loose fitting shirt of a simillar fabric in mismatched prints. From the neck up he looks like the Gucci guy, if the Gucci guy was robotripping.

He lets me know he's ready to get in to it. "Do you want to go to your place?" "Um....." my hesitation is not based in that kind of anxiousness about being alone with him. Yeah sure, the Gucci guy is gonna try to get with me. I'm simply embarassed about the state of my room. Nevermind that Paul has been living out of his car.

We end up busting into our respecitve half-gram bags in the apartment of our mutal friends. I make long, impossibly skinny lines; many of them. Between turns we pass around a bowl and a bottle of Jack Daniels and I smile because I love college. Each time, I shake out a small pile of coke and I make 3 razor thin lines along the back of a psych textbook. "Sarah, are you gonna take those lines soon?" Yes, soon, but come on, look how inviting they are! I like to draw out the time between lines. I love thinking about how much I want it before I can have it. I like watching Paul do his lines, too. I like watching Paul light his cigarettes when we go outside for one and I very much enjoy when he, or any beautiful boy, leans in to light my cigarette.

Around 8 am I figure out that I should leave. Stoned as hell, I walk out with Paul and pass him a cigarette. He says, "Thanks, love," in dead-on Jack Sparrow and I hug him goodbye. For a awkwardly long time. And I try to walk away but he pulls me in tighter and runs his hands down my body. He tries to kiss me and I turn my head. (did I mention how sexy he is? wtf?) Maybe it was the weed but I think in some cases it's more fun just to want something.

Wanna be on Top?

2007-03-12T22:19:00.000-05:00

I'm so excited for the rest of this train wreck of girls on America's Next Top Model. I'm all over Jael, even though I thought I was going to hate her. I first saw her pictures and thought she was going tobe like cycle 7's Meggggg "Rock and Rollllllllll!!!!" and that girl from Real World who had to leave cause she was 2 punk rock 4 this. She's over the top and manic and can't keep her clothes on and takes great pictures and has yet to be a bitch and she's genuinely excited about the photo shoots and doesn't complain even when she had to do the pro-life shot.

I love her cause she seems very aware of what a ridiculous farce ANTM is. The first thing she said was "We're not curing cancer here!" She started to hang out with Renee and figured out that she was a stupid cunt when Renee told her she was mad at her for being happy.

She comments with things like, "We were practicing our walks, and it was just all so hillarious to me because everyone wanted to be perfect." When Sarah's boobs popped out, "It was very liberating for her, I was glad she got to experience that with me" Jael just wants everyone to know the joy that she knows, they joy of showing off her tits. Jael's got some hot, fierce, editorial naked pics.

But the best thing about Jael is not her stoned voice or her perpetual nudity or her fun pictures, but the fact that she makes fun of Tyra at panel. With a big fake smile and a bobbling head, "You like my photo, Tyra?! Really, Tyra, you like meeee?" "You're calling my name, Tyra, I get to come too?" It's so great to watchc her mock the system from the center of it, I hope she goes far but I also can't wait for her exit interview.

2007-03-08T00:37:00.000-05:00

You should all start watching The Girls Next Door. It's three super cute Playboy girls who live at the Mansion with Hugh Hefner and they're just so cute and happy all the time, all they do is play and do photoshoots. I thought the Playboy culture was kind of tacky and sleazy and it is tacky but it's so campy and sugar coated it doesn't even seem slutty. I find nothing wrong with the retired Playmates bringing their kids to parties. Sure there's boobs everywhere, but it's not like it's dirty!

My favorite part is when they talk about Hef. They have such genuine affection for him, when they are sad cause they lost their puppy or something, he makes them feel better, they're so excited to spend time with him, and it's so cute to hear them talk about what they love about him, it's like the way you might talk about your 7th grade boyfriend, like, "He likes basketballl and his favorite color is sea blue and his favorite food is cool ranch dorritos" or something like that. They're so eager for approval, I mean, I get that it's just a manifestation of daddy issues but everyone's so happy, so who are you to judge? It's so enjoyable to watch a group of people that could never function is most situations, and realize, this is the place for you. You are right where you are supposed to be, sweetheart.

Tonight they showed them filming their workout videos! I've done those videos! Bridget's Bunny Bootcamp! Y'all are so cute.

Next time on The Girls Next Door- Holly VO's, "I've always wanted to go horseback riding!" as she steps out of her bathroom in a white bra and leather gun holster. I love kitch! Kendra interviews- "I have never felt so much pain in my ass (record scratch noise) Oh wait, actually..." I knew she was cooler than the other two.

2007-03-06T19:18:00.000-05:00

my ex-fake-boyfriend Mark likes to IM me randomly and do that "trip down memory lane" thing that I enjoy so much. He's a good kid, he was the first person to tell me I was hot, so I have some affection for him. He's dumb as a stone; if I didn't get off on attention and if he wasn't so pretty I would have cut him off by now because shit he is so boring.

Mark goes back and forth between "remember that time we..." and "you know what we should do..." I can't beleive how much he remembers about specific instances. "Remember the second to last time we had sex that summer, after the party at the house behind 7 11? like, we went for so long cause we were all drunk. And you passed out like right away lol" yeah man that 15 minutes was epic. Not kidding, this kid told me not to move my hips while we had sex because it made him cum too fast. Same with me being on top. And guys who wanna fuck a girl from behind are "just tryin to be gangsta or some shit."

The other day he asked me, "I never got you off, did I?" wait were you trying to? what kind of sub par Bush-administration-approved sex ed course did you have in high school?!
"Welllll no..."
"Damn why's it so hard to get girls off?"
"Actually I get off pretty easily, I think."
"Haha I don't think so" oh, well if you say so, Mark....

I was making out with him ooutside my building, I'm trying to go home and he keeps kissing my neck and that shit always, always works, so I end up running my hands down his abs to the button of his pants and say "I mean you can come with me and hang out if you want..." He says he couldn't beleive how fast I got my clothes off, and his. I wasn't wasting any time. While we were fooling around I remember wondering why he wasn't making any attempt to eat me out or finger me or anything at all, I was doing everything. I thought, this is an awful lot like high school for someone 2 years older than me!

I hooked up with him some more, thinking he'd get around to it and eventually I gave up but kept hooking up with him because it was easy and there were perks. Giving him head took very little time or effort and he was soo fucking grateful, every time I'd hear a sad story about how his ex girlfriend never would. And his friend Grant was more fun (last I heard, working in the porn industry, took first naked pics of me, and they looked so good I couldn't beleive it was me when I looked at them and deleted them once he passed out) but that was no sleepover thing.

But anyways. Mark is pretty dumb. He can start a sentance with "I loved it when you..." or "I really miss your..." and I start the sentance a little excited but he manages to take the sexy out of everything by sounding like he's in middle school pretending he's an adult.

He told me I looked like two porn stars he'd seen. The first looked not at all like me. Skinny with big boobs and light brown hair but that's it. But at least she was an actual porn star- "Damn, you're fucking Ron Jeremey in this video!" The next video he sent was just some random bloated looking lard ass lobotmized special ed girl who couldn't figure out how to put a dick in her mouth and should never be video taped doing anything, ever. (The idea of Mark and this girl trying to figure out how to fuck at all is actually hillarious. And it's not wrong to laugh, because they aren't retarded, they're just losers) I said "Fuck you I am not nearly as fat as her!" "Well no but your boobs are that big." "they don't look like that! Her tits look like my mom's! ...I think" So I had to send him a few pictures, he seemed cofused. "You are skinny in this picture! I can see yo ribs!" "I told you I wasn't as fat as her!" And then I blocked him because I don't want to talk to someone who would tell me I look like that girl.

More importantly, the video upset me because if someone were videotaping me I sure as hell wouldn't half ass it. Tyra has taught me that you have to commit to whatever you do and find your best angles to hide your flaws and even if you have a gag reflex you model through it.

Myspace Whore

2007-02-24T14:30:00.000-05:00

It's really lame but I get such a lil rush from random people I don't know IMing me or myspacing me or facebooking me with an appraising comment. When I get a random message that says something like, "you look really hot in your pic" or even "we should meet up some time, you look really sexy..." it's obviously going to make me feel like the shit. Don't pretend you're creeped out when that happens. (BTW my myspace doesn't have those skanked out airbushed obviousy posed pictures that these 16 year old girls took of each other at sleepovers, just drunk, broke-down, dirty hair, goofy pictures).

The internet's great, it's like when we would walk along the side of the road after school and boys in trucks would honk at us. My friends would turn around and flip them off but I'm not gonna lie, I love attention. I'd give the guys in cars a little nod, smile, practicing the slut face I use at parties when I'm trying to get with someone. I'd do the same shit if someone said something to me at the mall, on the street. They're all talk so I think it's fun to call them on it.

And when random people IM me, maybe I'm supposed to be like, I don't know you, don't talk to me! But I'll talk and be friendly and cute and flirt a little. This guy's been talking to me and he claims to not know where he got my screenname. Please. Here's how I have his screenname- someone IMed me freshman year and said, "So your facebook says you're looking for random play. How about right now? Guess not. (signed off)" I don't know who he is, I don't know if he knows who I am but it's a fun idea right? He keeps saying we should hang out and drink, and I'm like, "yeah let's do that! let me know. yeah whiskey's great. I have a single." Cause come on we're not gonna hang out. I enjoy calling people out on that shit.

Not interested!

2007-02-16T10:11:00.000-05:00

That guy that wants a stupid threesome IMed me again!

"So last time, I was drunk, but we clarified that you aren't into group things right?"
(depends on the group, obviously. What a self-deluding twat)
"Right."
"So you wouldn't want to do anything with me and my girlfriend?"
"Not really, no."
"Not really?"
"No."

I'm terrible, the first time I talked to him I knew that there was no way in hell I could fuck him. I just couldn't. I'm hard up for it and I am not picky but this fucking guy??? He's a bad guy and he verbally abused his ex girlfriend and tried to break her door down (not that she's easy to get along with, but still) and he's not attractive and neither is his girlfriend and he's like 5 feet tall and he has a small penis (I hear.) That last one was dumb. I should have just said no fucking way in hell I would rather die. It's good to be clear, right?

But for some reason I ended up having like a half hour conversation about all the shit they're into, all the toys they have, as if a smorgasboard of dildos and all the details are going to be the deciding factor. "Oh it's purple? Well why didn't you say so! I'm totally down if it's purple!" He also went into what his gf wants, specifically some domme chick who'd be called mistress and fuck her with all this crap and use the riding crop (I do like the iconography of a riding crop, but not that much, and I'd rather be on the other side of it, you know?) I found myself explaining that I don't do Domme at all. This negotiation process is unfamiliar to me. And it's not like you're paying me, douchebag! What makes you think you are in any place to make demands?

I'm trying to just be conversational so I'm like, yeah I've done that, oh wow a 12 inch dildo, yeah I have handcuffs, they're hot, your girlfriend sounds pretty cool... And the next thing I know he says, "so you wanna come watch a movie and drink with us some time?" When this conversation started I said no! I can't even fathom the awkwardness of that situation. I say maybe I'll bump into them at a party or something.

"Are you going to Black Valentine?"
"Ooh yeah that'd be cool, I'll prolly go."
"It's way up the road, we can give you a ride :-)"

No.

Damn it, I figured I could go and mingle and get drunk and make out wiht his gf and then leave at exactly the right time and go to a less terrifying party. I can't even handle that scene, I'm not hardcore enough and I like money and beer pong and I don't know the right obscure bands and I don't smoke enough weed and I'm not wearing anything from a thrift store and my haircut looks like every damn sorority girl.

"Can you think of a good reason why not?" Well, I don't really want to, but I see your point. "Come on, why say no to a night of crazy sex?" Because ya'll are overwhelming, I don't want to be hooking up with a girl, doing a whole group thing, double penetration with dildos and vibrators and strap ons, playing the BDSM angle from, it sounds like, both sides, trying to look good and acting my ass off pretending to be attracted to either of them. It sounds exhausting. The sex industry is not for me. I would need like $300 for that.

Never Have I Ever

2007-02-11T20:14:00.000-05:00

Some people like Make a Rule or Waterfall, I like Never Have I Ever cause I am always out first. This school is weird. The first never have I ever- "never have I ever used a vibrator" I figure this is like, the one that everyone should drink for, so I put a finger down and reach for my beer. Everyone else is perfectly still, staring at me. "heh... um.. I mean...." "Nope, we saw you, you're not fooling anyone!" I look around at these stunned faces. "Seriously? No one else? Just me? Alright"

The next guy says, "Never have I ever enjoyed taking it up the ass!" All the girls go, "eww gross why would you even say that? Ewwww ASS! Gross!" I'm shifty-eyed but I stay perfectly still and hope that no one looks at me. The guy explains this is a running joke among the cast. You guys call yourselves theater kids?

"Never have I ever made out with a girl"
"Never have I ever had sex in a moving car"
"Does oral count?"
"Yes"
"Never have I ever had sex high"
"Never have I ever done coke"
"Never have I ever had sex in an academic building"

What is this, high school? I'm starting to not feel as bad about my rut, at least I have good stories.

The Real World, Gaithersburg- Science Camp, Season 2?

2007-02-10T17:38:00.000-05:00

My application to NIST summer research 2007 is in. This week I wrote up my little personal statement about all the research I want to do, trying to make myself sound like a respectable person.

They did have fantastic fascilities, I had a great advisor and I worked in a beautiful brand new building and I had all these fun instruments to play with. And I did fucking good work.

We lived in a hotel with a pool and 75 other college kids and free wine and beer Monday-Thursday 5-7. Seriously, come back from work, free beer and drunk hot tub antics, Friday could be pong all night, Saturday by the pool and DC clubs at night, more laying out all Sunday... Couldn't' ask for anything else.

At the same time, I've never been so tense and anxious about social situations in my life, we were so overly self-involved and together to the point of being incestuous . I've never had that kind of omnipresent drama, with emails at work as our confessionals. We'd write back and forth all day trying to come up with more clever insightful ways of describing what had happened the night before. High school wasn't this bad.

I don't know I'll get in again, with my GPA as it is, but I don't know if I can handle that shit again. The last month, I pretty much stopped caring and I thought, well I'm leaving soon, I can do whatever I want, I can black out at a nightclub and I can smoke a bowl in the parking lot and I can fool around with the token lesbian from Smith and I can make out with my roommate's crush in front of her and I can get in fights that end violently and I can wake up in other people's rooms and I can go to work drunk and I can go to work hungover ... all the while drunkenly giggling, "oooh we work for the government, y'all...."

We used to joke that there was no way they could pay us that much and pay for our rooms and fund our research for the little use we were. We must be a social experiement, or a reality tv show in the making, we're the less sexy Laguna Beach. We party harder though.

Thanks, pilates

2007-02-03T21:26:00.000-05:00

I successfully got my leg behind my head for the first time ever today.

Don't act like you're not impressed...

huh

2007-02-02T20:50:00.000-05:00

well it's nice to feel wanted?

2007-01-28T22:35:00.000-05:00

Back in the day (fall '05), Will and I hung out with a his best friend and his girlfriend, who was great to hang out with and one of the few decent girls I've met here, but sort of a shit show and admittedly would make a hellish girlfriend. When they had a high drama, intense, blog-aggravated break up, the guy decided he hated me because I was on his ex-gf's side. Or whatever. Since then he de-friended me on facebook, wouldn't respond or look me in the eye if I passed him and said hi or if he was with a friend would say something passive-agressively mean and threatening as they walked by. Is undeniably a mysoginist.

Got an IM from him today;

him: do you do chicks?
me: lol why?
him: my gf is bi and I'm looking for chicks to join us for some fun some time
me: that's pretty sweet for you
him: so do you swing that way?
me: I have but I'm not really into it
him: are you into any of the following: bdsm, anal, double penetration?
me: haha are you doing a survey?
him: just seeing if there is anythign you'd be into
me: nah not really
him: alright, sorry for bothering you
me: no problem
me: good luck finding someone

I wanted to say, "Mmmm yeah, I totally do girls. I've been dying for a girl, I wanna do that again soon. I was hoping I'd find some other couple who'd be into that. And to your second question, yes, all of the above. But you? Not so much. You're a cunt" Would that have been horribly bitchy, or appropriately so, considering what a douche he'd been to me? I was polite. How lame.

I don't doubt that he still hates me, but I don't think any amount of vicodin and ecstacy or any degree of a manic episode could make me not hate myself. And seriously, does he think I would answer such questions for him?

It's so unfortunate that the only appealing threesome is the random kind or the guest star kind (just not this situation, obviously. Other couples I know, however....) Props to this girl for agreeing and seemingly having such a good attitude. His old girlfriend was genuinely into girls. I woulda done it then, although more to hook up with her than with him (what?) She brought a girl back to his room with him, and then locked him out while they hooked up. Burn.

Too Old for This Shit

2007-01-07T20:30:00.000-05:00

I haven't been to a fun party in months. Considering becoming a hermit, in title as well as in practice.

Stacey asked me to go to a party with her and Shadyville. I've never been there not buying drugs. I knew I was going to end up going but I really didn't want to. I didn't know anyone, and I wasn't feeling up for that sort of thing, especially with Stacey. It's exhausting to listen to a sanctimonious speech about how she doesn't drink or party or enjoy any aspect of her life, all the while watching boys lose their shit over her. why, why, why... I guess I'm just really waspy or bourgeoise or something but I feel like talking about your depression constantly is kind of a party foul.

I decide to have a good attitude and get all cute and we go, we bring some booze, and turns out everyone there is between 16 and 19 years old. That's not a huge age difference but it felt ridiculous. I'm not socially skilled but these kids were stunted.

It's elitist to say there's a difference between private school kids and public school kids but.... these kids were just really stupid. The ones who had graduate high school hadn't gotten in to UD. Who the hell doesn't get in UD when they live in DE? Shady burnouts. I forgot that Stacey prefers martyrdom to actually enjoying herself. That's why she didn't have fun at New Year's.

I spent all night talking to the gay guy. This is a bad habit to get into. He could speak in complete sentances and he was pretty.

Beligerent Jones kept getting into fights so they locked him out and all the girls and my gay buddy hid behind the boys while he ran into the door over and over. Stacey must want to die, because she offered to drive him home. If she'd done that I would have walked home. His pupils were coked out to the size of quarters and he had chugged a handle of Popov. Later someone told me that his girlfriend had just died of a heroin overdose. Where does Stacey find these people?

The token Hispanic guy with the oversized baseball hat walked around going, "percs... percs... percs" like he was on a street corner. Adorable. But I perked up (heehee) a little and sorta asked about that... "Ummm how much do you want for percs...Percocet...percs...stuff" I'm such a square. Stacey's like, "Don't be stupid!" ummm don't bring me to this fucked up place and expect me to get through it on a few beers. Anyway I wasn't pulling out my wallet, I was just getting an estimate. Trust me, for $30 I'd rather have some white lace boyshorts. I'd rather have a new eyeliner. I'd rather have Starbucks for 2 weeks. I'd rather have a train ticket to Alexandria.

And it was totally worth asking him because he launched his pitch about how he's a real dealer and he's been selling dime bags since he was 12. Props for that, dude.

Later he claims he can undo Stacey's bra in a second. And he did. I'm so fucking bored I could die. He does mine, both of ours at once... Stacey says if he can do hers with his teeth in 5 seconds, she'll show him her boobs. (And if this Facebook group reaches 10,000 she'll have a threesome.) He did it in 3 seconds and they went out on the porch. This guy named Ivan who had devestatingly sexy aviators started negotiating..."Can I try you?"

"You can try. I'm not gonna show you my tits though."

"Awwww why not? She did it! I bet yours are really nice." are you kidding me??

"Umm no they aren't. They're awful. You don't wanna see em. Hers are better, y'all go take turns with her or something, she'd be into that"

"yeah but yours are bigger. I'll do something for you..." hmmm where's the guy with the Percocet? Jk jk jk.

"What are you like a prude or something?"

haha dude where were you an hour ago when Stacey called me out over and over in Never Have I Ever? I got stories I won't even tell Stacey. I'm just a little more discerning than her, I've actually changed since high school More discriminating taste. I mean, if someone wouldn't eat food from vending machines, would you call them anorexic? No, they just wanna eat food that's worthwhile. (No one ever understands my food analogy but I think it's great)

"Nah I've done enough uh, promiscuous things, and if I'm gonna be ridiculous and slutty I'm gonna actually have fun. Just taking my shirt off for random boys I don't know doesn't sound like that much fun."

They misunderstood this, and took it as a moral stance or something.

"Aww ok man, I can respect that, that's your choice..." Don't get it twisted, I'm not inhibited, I'm not religious, I just don't like you. And then he told me stop giving him "come hither" looks. Sorry sweetheart I guess I just can't help it? It must be because you're so smooth.

One kid would not shut up about it...

"Come on... my birthday was last week and I didn't get to see any titties."

"Tragic. How old are you now?"

"Fifteen!"

"Fucking shit! Fifteen?!? I'm pretty sure that's rape; go home! Fucking fifteen.... When I was fifteen I had never drank, smoked, or been beyond 1st base, okay? I might not have seen an R rated movie when I was 15... "

When we finally left, Stacey said, "Why didn't you let Ivan see your boobs?"

"Cause that's so awkward, I'd feel gross. And where's the fun in that? I did sorta have a crush on him though."

"I know you did. I bet he woulda played with them or something...."

Oooh really? Lucky me. How did I miss out on that shit? I'm sure I'll regret that for the rest of my life.

I'm so glad I'm too old for this shit. My new BCBG sweater was wasted on this crowd, and now it smells like cigs and adolescence. I sprayed some Prada on it and now I feel a little better.

2006-12-30T22:12:00.000-05:00

I've missed my friends.

Stacey and I are in the car with Timmy in the backseat and he says, "Yeah most of the guys in my grade just wanna get action, but I dunno, I really want, like, ya know...."

Stacey melts. "Awww Timmy! You want a relationship?" She throws her hand behind her back for a high five as she's driving "That is so mature of you, I'm so proud of you.....Ewwww did you just wipe your snot on my hand?! GROSS!"

I haven't laughed so hard in a lond time. That was so perfectly played. Serves her right. Dumbass.

Victoria's Secret is the one that took sexy away

2006-12-28T16:20:00.000-05:00

I can't stand it anymore; I'm never going back. Everyone knows I love lingerie but VS makes me hate it. Mostly because I hate the futuristic seamless, technologically advanced gel-filled implant-imitating fabric-developed-by-nasa crap.

They do have a few pretty soft lacey bras but not many, and not for me. My experience is always the strange alien-like stiff bra that holds exactly the same shape when it's on the floor as when I'm wearing it. And they don't respond well to movement. Laying around in bed is not what they're designed for, they seem cofused if your boobs move a bit or respond to the new realtive dirrection of gravity, and the bra awkwardly keep the same shape it had when you were standing.

And VS seems to think this is great. No seams whatsoever! All one piece, no tags, no texture at all to the fabric, no lace or bows or anything pretty, just this futuristic breast-plate that looks like a plaster cast of a manican. Oh but the worst is when I pick up a bra in the store thinking it's the right size and as soon as I touch it I recoil in disgust because it's all ready filled! They come with breasts! Ew it's soo gross, it's like there are disembodied breasts wrapped in nylon and tied to straps sitting around in the drawer.

I'm making a new rule that I will not buy anymore bras that cannot be flattened. (Trying to pack something like the "secret embrace" or "the body" is like punching those punching bag clowns that keep popping back up)

Went to Gap Body instead. I have a pink bra from there that I love, or I did before the straps started to fray and the dye wore out, but it's lasted longer than that VS shit. I found a really gorgeous blue lace balconnette today, skinny lil straps with bows on them (reminds me of the AP Love range), pretty sheer swiss dot lace in the back with matching perfectly cut boyshorts. The best part was, Gap didn't make the assumption I wanted to add an extra three inches. One layer of lace is perfect, guys. Props.

I must have been a really good girl this year

2006-12-24T16:21:00.000-05:00

I'm getting an IPod Nano and a Diane von Fustenburg wrap dress for Christmas. How the hell did this happen?

When I go to Saks in NY with my mom I always look at clothes I'm lusting after and I usually swoon over the DvF dresses a little. I've wanted one for years and years. I'm running my hand down the sleeve of a really perfect print silk dress, with that belt tied in a knot in the middle.... That exagerated V sillhouette, on the hanger... it's very alluring, for a pile of jersey tied in knot, it kills me. My mom is rolling her eyes at me, and really, I look like a 13 year old girl falling all over herself at an Nsync concert, something like that, it's sick how in love with this dress I am.

"You might as well try it on since you've been drooling over them for years and years. It might finally disillusion you a little."

I wrap the first one around my waiste, a perfect black white and tan print with 3/4 cuffed sleeves and a collar Oh-so-appropriate, at least at the neck and the elbows. The rest looks like sex wrapped up in silk and when I put my heels back on I...can't seem to get myself away from the mirror. Of course I had to forget my cell phone that day or I would have had aa fun ittle photo shoot in the dressing room until I remembered that I had shit to do. I just can't believe how long and smooth my waist is and how perfect my ass looks, even my legs look perfect and I don't think I've ever enjoyed having tits that much, they just looked fucking amazing...

I went to show my mom.... I'm not sure if she wanted me to look like walking sex... she knows it's perfect though. The sales guy comes over and gives me an appraising up-and-down look. "Wow that dress looks great on you." Dude. I know.

Love/Hate for Sex and the City. Again.

2006-12-14T02:27:00.000-05:00

Season 1- Carrie starts every episode talking about how experienced and jaded new yorkers are, how nothing surprises them anymore. And then10 minutes later something really normal happens and they have a fucking crisis, they all gather together to figure out what to do because they are so overwhelmed by the audacity of it all. This scene killed me-

Carrie picks up the phone “Can't talk Charlotte, I'm late for drinks with Big!... What? He said what?! I'll be right there”

They're in a cab. The guy had asked her if he could fuck her in the ass. It sounds like he didn't go about if very well, cause Charlotte seems sober. Next they pick up Miranda and she's all lawyerly, let's weigh the pros and cons.... Even Samantha is kind of surprised but admits she does it. Ohh yeah nothing surprises you. Charlotte: "I don't wanna be the up-the-butt girl! No one marries the up-the butt girl! You can't be Mrs. Up-The-Butt!" Wait, really? No? Damn it. Cabbie- "No smoking in cab!" Carrie- "Sir, we're talking up-the-butt, a cigarette is in order!"

In another episode, Samantha calls Carrie to rave about how amazing and talented and creative this guy she's sleeping with is. “We did it with him on top, me on top, me on my side, me on my face....” Carrie's all, whoa that's crazy. Is she serious? That's all pretty standard. That's like, a fraction of the last time I had sex. Samantha, I expected better from you.

Later Carrie goes out with a guy and he mentions he's bisexual. She's incredibly stupid and ignorant and almost intolerant, it's infuriating and really not at all politically correct. Carrie plays spin-the-bottle with Alanis Morisette. That part's true, me and my other ambisexual friends played a lot of boy-girl/boy-boy/girl-girl spin the bottle. I've yet to meet a girl that wasn't down with kissing another girl. Carrie is such a square.

And then Charlotte has a bf who wants to have a threesome. Who's ever heard of a guy wanting to do that? Next episode charlotte gets a vibrator. Yeah this shit is cutting edge.

That's like, the last few months of my life. And I'm 20. I don't even have that much sex. I'm a novice, by any standards. I guess the show is10 years old now, and it was like, whoa they can't do that on TV! But don't introduce yourselves as the hardened, seen-it-all, bad ass New York Sluts when you are actually impossibly sheltered.

being a good daughter

2006-12-13T20:40:00.000-05:00

My mom is so much easier to talk to now that she's in therapy all the time. She's really not used to examining her relationships, or any kind of introspection... I swear, we are related. She seems to have never thought about this shit before! What does she think about all day? Productive things?

"At first I thought, why would he want someone like that? but the therapist says that he needs for a woman to be really impressed with him all the time"
"Yes...." No Shit!
"You might know something about this, you take all those psych classes... I'm begining to think he's a narcisist"
"Um, yeah.... I coulda told you that years ago. I could have told you that when I was 10"
"Really? I knew he thought exceedingly highly of himself, but I didn't think it would be a problem for him"
She's not really people-smart, but I didn't think she could have missed all that entirely!

oh, and later... "Apparantly I'm not enough of a fluffer." ...Sorry? A fluffer? "Some people fluff up each other's egos, some people are good at doing that and they also need people to do it for them, they need to be fluffed by their partners" Mom, stop saying fluffer.

The best part is, just for listening to this shit, which I really find fascinating, I get train tickets home and shopping trips as compensation. I'm going straight to hell.

Scrimmaging

2006-12-02T16:38:00.000-05:00

Last night I took down a phone number- it's in my phone as Jmghm7. It's supposed to be Jon S. I wonder if the phone number is even close. Not that it matters; dude I'm not gonna call you.

Is having no game a WM thing? That Guy from a few weeks ago started out strong. Last night we're once again on the stoop, and he brushes my long bangs out of my eyes... "I want to see you" Well played, dude; well played. I'm surprised by his competence. But wait, why's your hand down my jeans? And...are you trying to unhook my bra? I know I am not the picture of class, but seriously! When I stop him he says, "Let's go back to your room" Oh, and yet you started so well! I've been here like, an hour. Wait for me to get bored and drunk. "No, I wanna go back inside, it's only like, 11!"

I got into a very interesting conversation in the corner with someone else and when I looked up, That Guy was gone. Oh well.

That Other Guy gets reeeaaally friendly. He's the "likes to cuddle on the couch" guy. Great, but then.... ohh this kills everything, ok I'm sitting back in the couch leaning forward and of course there's that uber sexy saddle bag flab shit just above the waistband of my jeans, and of all the things he could do, he was feeling that up. Ew. It's time to go. "Where are you going?... You should stay here tonight, it's cool... You sure? Ok I'll walk out with you"

I take down a phone number with way more difficulty that you'd expect. "Yeah I'll call you tomorrow"

I need new friends.
I need to transfer.

Eta: Turns out that if I had stayed over, and I had headed upstairs to crash with That Other Guy, I would have passed That Guy passed out on their couch. That would have been awesome, when we all woke up. If I'd known that, I'd have stayed because sometimes situations are so screwed up I just can't resist.

2006-11-24T22:50:00.000-05:00

The high school ex and I have the weirdest dynamic imaginable....

Dated in that half assed adolescent way for the first two years of high school. In retrospect, this was the worst time to have a boyfriend, because I didn't have a sex drive at 14/15. I thought I did, but damn, I had no idea. Broke up mostly because we were tired of each other.

Hooked up a bit just for fun for about a month senior year. (I was already all about the no-strings-play when I was 17. I thought I was so enlightened)

Right before I was about to leave for college, he suggested we have sex just because neither of us wanted to go to college as virgins. We meet up, for this purpose, as awkwardly as you would imagine. So awkward that nothing really happens. Just ice cream. We're cool like that.

We periodically talk over AIM, not frequently but always for at least an hour, about our respective sex lives mostly, sometimes getting really flirty (sometimes drunk).

Many times we've made plans to meet up while we were both home and hook up. Every time, he backs the fuck out, usuallly citing something to do with his mom that he can't get out of. By now I've kind of figured out that the boy is all talk, so I tend to agree to whatever because I know nothing will ever materialize and I don't want to have to say no to him. And I think he hasn't had sex in like, over a year.

Earlier this week- "Bad news- I think I'm going to have to go to this dinner thing with my mom Saturday night." Well of course you do, sweetheart. You run along then.

And then later- "Looks like I can get out of dinner on Saturday. But I don't think we can do anything...I kind of injured myself." Only you, dude. Only you.
"How?!?" wait. no.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yeah I guess I don't"
"Angry mastrubation" Fucking what the hell is that?? I said I didn't want to know!! And seriously....what? How.... I mean, I obviously don't know much about it, but what? I want to know more, but at the same time I really really don't. "Yeah you know how I just got circumsiced this summer? I'm not totally used to it, and I cut myself."

We are now so far past the realm of too much information.
I mean, I was pretty much counting on him backing out at some point. We aren't really trying to hook up. We always play this little game of Chicken and I always win. But wow.

Dude, you will do anything not to have sex with me!

ma vie en rose

2006-11-18T23:23:00.000-05:00

I've effectively quit smoking, but I still need it for social networking. It just feels alluring even though I've seen pictures and oh god it's awful. I like to have the excuse to go out on the stoop with a select group out of the party upstairs, have better conversations, get some undivided attention... Or maybe I just love working that ratio. I know smoking isn't sexy but when there are like, 6 guys out on the stoop, and me....come on you can't blame me. I fucking love boys. And I like when they lean in and light my cigarette so our faces are so close we'd be kissing if it weren't for the barrier of a flame midway between our lips. Prolonging eye contact durring the lighting, wrapping my lips around the end and taking the first drag, smiling a bit... "thanks" I can't be faulted for this behavior but it feels so ridiculously brazen. ( So french.)

Two guys I know would not stop sneakily kissing me when I wasn't expecting it, grabbing my ass and talking about Eiffel Towering me. Sketchy as hell. It might have been the most fun I've had in months. I feigned shock at the suggestion, but shit, that would be fun. When they left around 1, they seemed to think I was coming with them.... They were serious?? Damn, I didn't know people actually did that. I thought I was the only one that ridiculous. That's on my list, y'all. No way were we drunk enough for an Eiffel Tower situation, but maybe that would have been a good thing. I think I'd like to remember that clearly.

Instead, I went home alone and thought about it.

Reason #169 that I Love My Life

2006-11-12T23:30:00.000-05:00

"You got your parents to pay for your booty call?? Nice!"

DvF

2006-11-08T14:47:00.000-05:00

"On the hanger the $200 garment had no shape. But it had suddenly given one to me. The splurge was occasioned by a promotion to correspondent. It was a decided step up from the secretarial pinstripe suit with pleated pants (the horror) that I'd bought right out of college. It was also a couple sizes down, thanks to my punishing new exercise regime. An updated version of the frock Ms. von Furstenberg first introduced to wild national acclaime in 1974, the wrap was certainly slinky: It could, in theory, unfurl and tumble immediately to the floor with a single purposeful tug of the "self-belt". But it was sexy in a totally autonomous, empowering way. No second party was needed to help button or zip up. I could rewrap smartly in a flash and and leave wherever I was in seconds, like Wonder Woman sans bustier and tiara."
-Elle October 2006

Oh, if only I could find a DVF wrap dress for only $200. I check Bluefly religiously. My 6 year old J Crew version does amazing things though. Not well-made, the fabric is mediocre, seams are falling out (J Crew was different 6 years ago. I think this cost like, $75 or something; now they don't have dresses under $200 either)

I didn't know how to dress myself at 15- everything I wore was ill-fitting and unflattering and usully too revealing and in a color that was all wrong, usually chosen based on its merits on the hanger or on someone else, not on me. It's by pure chance that I picked up the ideal shape for me (for me now- at 15 I probably looked more lumpy, less lithe.) and that I chose a color that back then I had never worn before that I now know always looks stunning on me.

At that time, I lusted after the clothes that would fit the kind of person I wanted to be, and not what I needed to wear to school. Obviously this lead to a lot of mistakes, like too-short skirts and very low waistbands and tacky little thongs and even a shiny silver velour tube top (cringe!). My mom was buying me duplicates of her clothes, and this was before she developed the taste I now admire her for. This was the Talbots era. Tube tops and thongs and bare (pudgey) midrifs were reactionary. I've forgiven myself and so has she.

Which makes it even more remarkable that the dress I wanted back then not because it suited me but because I aspired to become someone who would be suited by that dress, is now undeniably the most beautiful, flattering, confidance boosting thing in my closet. I guess something went right.

How can you not love the one piece of clothing that's at once the most comfortable and the sexiest? That always fits beautifully, plus or minus 20 pounds? That looks tastefully knee length and family-friendly upon entry but happily falls open up-to-there under tables in restaurants and in the passenger seat of a car? That comes undone with a pull of a string and pours off your shoulders down your back into a little silk pool on the floor around your feet?

"Your girlfriends, they can't understand..."

2006-11-07T21:18:00.000-05:00

It's the Sex and the City where they discuss how one "defines" one's "relationships". Blech. I used to think that the correlations between the show and my life were like, whoa, soo uncanny and strange! but this show is so base and so unoriginal that it applies to everyone all the time.

It's just that....I'm going to get grilled when I go home about my justification for my Boy Visit immediately following. (I wonder if I can just say "I have to retrieve my favorite underwear!" No?) I refuse to stammer "uhh....I don't know....we're like ... whatever...." and get the MomBitchFace. That's almost as scathing as the concerned "ohhh....huh" over the phone from well-meaning friends. That's why I don't say more than I need to, and why no one knew about my random expedition 2 weeks ago ;-)

It would not occur to me to me to wonder what's going on until I'm talking to someone about it. Girl friends give terrible advice. My mom is of course very smart but the disconnect is... insurmountable.

On Sex and the City, the debate is mostly, "he does that? that means he's your boyfriend. oh but that other thing... that means no." Seriously? WTF? Considering that these women are supposed to be so autonamous and self-actuallized, they are really bad at calling the shots or considering, even identifying, what they want. (must keep in mind these are cautionary tales, meant to be sympathetic, at best. Not role models)

The self-obsessed creature I am, I can't help but compare- instead I scrutinize my own behavior. Why did I do, say, think that thing? What does that say about me? Can we identify a pattern? (Bipolar much?) I wonder what I'm subconsciously thinking? I'm my own neurotic girlfriend! Rawk on!

Conclusions regarding myself relative to fictional SATC girls-
a) These women are tragic fucking losers and don't think about what they want, ever, and that is why they are always unhappy, whereas my life is awesome. (fuck yeah, bitches!)
b) Because they are like, 30+, they already know exactly what they want, and it never changes anymore (or...they no longer have a choice? clocks of every kind are ticking! hurry before you're too old to be relevant and HBO gets a better show for your time slot! Desperate Houswives is a lot less depressing than watchig Kim Catrell fuck a 20 year old)
c) Even Carrie is not as self absorbed as me. No one in the world is as self absorbed as me (ding!)
d) This show is fictional and, in fact, very badly written
e) All of the above.

New blog format- every entry must contain the phrase "I couldn't help but wonder...(lameassquestion)....?" Seriously, I'm borderline illiterate and I'm a better writer than the famous Ms Bradshaw.

ETA: following ep is the one where CarrieFace is like, "I was having sex trying to turn it into a relationship and Samantha wasn't having sex so that she would have a relationship. I couldn't help but wonder..."(told you it was coming!) "...which had a better chance of survival?"

Even when I saw the ep 4 years ago, I was confused about why it didn't work out with the Best-Sex-Ever guy, and I swear it's not cause I was/am naive. The rationalization was....wait for it...he was way too ADD. Wtf? Seriously they pulled that out of their ass and I'm expected to buy it? How did he focus long enough to give BitchFaceCarrie the best orgasm of her life? Plot hole! Cop-out! At this moment I'm watching Carrie get turned off by his manic behavior and I just think he's fun and hot, and the this-shit-is-falling-apart record-scratching soundtrack is not enough to convince me this is a real problem. Carrie, you're a bitch. Ew, and so is Charlotte. These poor men. I don't think any of them actually like sex. They all secretly hate guys, except Samantha, so why is she the one with the girl-on-girl plotline?

I love to hate this show.

Game

2006-11-05T23:48:00.000-05:00

I managed to convince myself to go out and drink Friday night. Yeah, I had to think about it for a while. I wasn't so psyched about getting wasted. What's happened to me?

I had just dyed my hair, which gives you that kinda anonomous feeling (even though it's totally delusional) It just starts to seem like I could be someone else. This guy showed up that I sort of knew... had met him a few times before and I remembered his name this time! For some reason I decided to work it as hard as I could. He seemed a little out of place. I started chatting him up, sat down on the arm of his chair when there was no seat for me, touched his arm when I talked to him, flipped my freakishly dark hair around and batted long eyelashes. (I did that with everyone, though. He's just the only one who doesn't know better.) I asked him to teach me how to play quarters (one of the few things that I learned from my mom about guys- that they like to explain stuff to you. read: stop acting like a know-it-all-bitch. Also, that guys who are balding are "higher in testosterone and eager to please" I remember her saying this when I was like, 6. Seriously.) I leaned in while he explained shit, and let my hand brush his knee from time to time, without listening to a thing he was saying. I actually did pretty well. (sidenote- is there anything more fun than being the only girl, drinking around a table of 8 good looking boys? I couldn't stop grinning. And most of them are off-limits, hooking-up-wise)

On a group cigarette break, he asked me to stay outside after everyone went in to smoke another one. .....oh really? As I leaned in to offer him a cig he started kissing me. Have you ever been simultaneously surprised but not surprised at all? Like, whats going on....oh wait.... no.... of course!

"When I walked in tonight I was so happy you were here." Guys gotta watch what the hell they say to me. It's just too easy; some shit like that and my panties hit the floor. But since I was feeling a lot more enamoured with myself than with him, I decided to be an arrogant little bitch and I asked him why. C'mon, I wanted more. "Because I like you! You seem really cool"

"I hate to be the one to tell you dude, but I am so lame." I could have gone on but making out on the picnic tale sounded like more fun.

He wanted to leave with me (I should stop mentioning that I have a single every 5 minutes; it sends a mixed message) but I wanted to go back inside and play more. I continued having mad game for a while, not talking to him quite as much but still glancing from across the room or brushing past him through a crowd of people, letting him pull me into a dark little hallway, but then sliding away again after a minute or two against the wall... Too bad I don't like him.

I wonder if I could translate this sort of skill to a situation where I could make something of it.