I've been in a most sentimental mood today. I suppose it's the fact that the sun was shining, and even though it was still far too cold for someone of my fragile frame to deal with, a hint of Spring whispered through the air. I took a drive in between my classes, and as the sun warmed me through my windshield, and I played a CD I made last year around this time, tons of wonderful memories came back to me; the kind of memories that overwhelm your senses, and launch a hostile takeover of your sensible emotions. I recalled the newness of my relationship then, the newness of everything I was experiencing in life. Ups and Downs; ups and downs of the most elated heights and the lowest lows. But when I look back, I somehow forget how the lowest lows felt, and in retrospect, that was a beautiful time in my life. I partied way more than I should have. Wino Wednesdays, which had started out as a girls night only/weekly ritual, had turned into full out parties by that point. Not only was every friend I had invited, but they generally took it upon themselves to invite other friends to my apartment in addition. Even if we started out with wine, it seems we always ended up drinking hard liquor (Baccardi 151, Absinthe... Germ-X :p ) and the boys usually made a beer run at some point. The music was played too loud, pot was usually acquired and smoked... I'd often end up pissed because I was supposed to be relaxing after a hard day at school and Claires and I'd end up playing babysitter (seeing as how the event always took place in my apartment). But I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I remember the night I built a tent out of sheets above my bed, complete with an ornate chandelier I constructed with fake flowers and strands of mardi-gras pearls. With my paper star lantern in the middle it was an enchanting, magical tent... and after consuming Bacardi 151, that tent managed to house not only myself and my boyfriend, but two of my girlfriends as well. I assure you it was non-sexual; we just decided we all wanted to sleep there. But by the time the liquor wore off in the wee hours of the morning, I realized a Full size bed just was not large enough to accommodate us comfortably and I ended up on the couch, my boyfriend on the floor. The next day we all had class and kept the pact we had made the night before to get up at 7 am and finish our respective homework. It was rough, to say the least. There were so many nights at that apartment that were so perfect. Parties, nights with girlfriends, nights with one friend or two friends, nights with my boyfriend. I think at the time, as stressed as I was juggling a heavy course load, practicum, and work at Claires, entertaining became a bit of a chore; but a year from that point, it looks so fun and easy. Especially now that my crew of friends is dispersed, and I am about to graduate. I guess I took for granted the fact we wouldn't always be so carefree, or careless. The fact we wouldn't always be in the same town. I know there are plenty of good times to be had ahead, and I am sure I will make more friends down the road, but I can't help feeling a bit melancholy looking back; it's as though I've watched myself grow- and I have, and that part of me, that carefree, slightly (or heavily) neurotic and crazy part of me that was at an all-time high last Spring, has been repressed. That's not necessarily a bad thing- I mean, my grades were back to their stellar standard this year, and I feel waaaayyyy healthier without the stress of having to entertain on a nightly basis, and without alcohol being my major dietary staple. It's just that, when one has noticed self growth and maturity, it really knocks you down, and makes you take a minute to reflect on how and why you have changed.
I remember when I was the queen of making out in the Fall of 2009. I think I was desperate to find a boyfriend, or someone who would understand me. I was sick of being the only one of my friends to still be a virgin, and to have never had a boyfriend. It was seriously depressing, but even more depressing was the realization every guy wanted to bone me and nothing more. Id make out with someone, and never hear from them again- no one even gave me a chance (which is fucked up- I am an awesome girlfriend, I must say). I was so very naive too, in thinking love was going to save me from myself (I was seriously crazy at the time, my diet of alcohol really didn't help encourage a positive mind frame). When I finally realized the love I harbored for my current boyfriend, it was months after we'd initially met, and I'd gone through many many crisis in the wake of my realization and acceptance of love. I'll keep that private for the sake of this blog, but my good friends know what I mean. However, the point I think I started off writing about, is that I was naive. Love is a powerful thing, and it has definitely changed me in a lot of ways, to love and be loved by someone other than my family or friends. However, did it complete me the way I thought it would once upon a time? Helllz no. I think it's human to always want more. And even though I have this love in my life now, that I formerly only so desperately craved, I have realized that though it is uplifting, empowering, comforting, and generally has made me much more self-confident, it is not going to make all of my dreams come true. Only I can do that, and it's going to take a whole lot of determination, will power, work ethic, time, and effort. That is way easier to do knowing that my family, friends, and bf support me though. I am still really naive in a lot of ways, but I guess that's just me. It certainly makes reality a little softer when every other thought is a pleasant daydream or fantasy of the future, and it really gives me incentive to strive for.
Back to the change, though. I wish sometimes, I could go back to my former self and slap myself. Yes. Slap. How could I ever let some of the uggos I made out with break my heart? Goddamn, it's not like I had sex with them... I'm not sure how or why I ever felt an emotional connection at all. Most of them were straight up douche bags and hideous. I won't name names, but I hope the few who really hurt my fragile, tender, pure heart, will see me years from now, in the prime of my life and success, and I hope they are alone, or with fat, sloppy, busted girlfriends who can't do shit in the bedroom or cook an awesome meal like I can, and I hope they slap themselves for not giving me a chance (even though I wouldn't want to be with them now, at the time I probably did).
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
FFFFFFUuuuuucckkkKKKKk
I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up and walked into the kitchen to get my coffee and my father said "how are you feeling today?" My response: "I was feeling good until you asked me that question." Can you say SAVAGE? Well, at least I am able to acknowledge the fact I am a raving bitch today. He should have known to not ask me a question that would imply I woke up hung-over because that immediately pisses me off- people making false assumptions. Just because I came home at 2 am and binged in the kitchen does not mean I'm hung-over. Would I drive home drunk? Hellz no. It hasn't been a rough day though, or even a rough week; in fact, it's been a rough month. Now, I know some of you reading this will be like "why is that bitch so pessimistic.... blah blah blah..." You wanna know why? BECAUSE I HAVE REASONS. Yes, I have many, many reasons. The reasons for my mood as of late are as follow:
1. I fucking miss my boyfriend. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to deal with others rubbing their love and the fact that they get to see their significant others on a daily basis in my face. I deleted approximately 10 people not just from my Facebook newsfeed, but from my friends on FB because I could no longer stand knowing that they "miss [their] wonderful boyfriend" when they've been apart a fucking HOUR. I don't wanna know that you're spending "a week with my honey on the beach cause he's the best boyfriend ever <3" when I haven't seen my boyfriend for almost a month. Furthermore, I don't wanna see mobile uploads of the roses your bf sent you 'just because,' nor do I want to see a picture of you making out with him... especially when you're both obnoxious and unattractive. I was celibate for nearly 22 years of my life by choice, and now I'm celibate for fucking weeks at a time and it blows. I wish I was Asexual; life would be so much easier.
2. Dumb ho's everywhere giving women a bad rep. I am so sick of seeing these sorority girls and the general population of dumb sluts inhabiting Oneonta walking around town like it's 70 degrees and July. Honey, how are your lady bits not getting frostbite when it is 27 degrees on a good night and you're prancing around without a coat and a mini dress WITHOUT tights? Who are you really trying to impress by dressing like that and where exactly do you think you are geographically speaking? This isn't fucking Miami and you are not going to a hot night club... you are going to a seedy college bar in Oneonta, NY. And if you are trying to impress boys, it's not worth it because they only want to fuck you and chuck you. Do people not respect the sanctity of their bodies at all today? So shameful. Half the bitches I see shouldn't even be wearing what they are. I'm sorry but body-con dresses are made for people with flat stomachs. And to the girls making out with other girls to impress boys... I thought 2003 was 8 years ago. The other day when I was working in the costume shop (more on this in a minute) some girl was down there talking to her friend about St. Patty's Day. First off, can I just say she was wearing a Tiffany Charm bracelet- as I recall, those were cool in the year 2000, when my sister, her entire sorority and myself HAD to have one. She was talking about a particular St. Patrick's Day shirt that a fraternity/sorority was selling for the occasion that read " Oneonta is DTF, St. Patty's Day 2011". In case you don't know, DTF= Down To Fuck. To this I say: WTF (What The Fuck)?! How degrading. Honey, maybe your skank ass is 'down to fuck' any guy who spends 10 dollars buying you drinks at one of Water Street's classiest establishments and who has shown he's into you by grinding your ass to a Nikki Minaj song on the dance floor, but I can assure you that not everyone in Oneonta is DTF. Some people respect themselves more than that. Furthermore, when did it become cool for sluts to let everyone know how slutty they were? If someone can handle casual sex emotionally, fine. Maybe they feel liberated, maybe they do respect their body and just enjoy sexual pleasure with partners to whom they have no connection other than physical. I'm not one of them. But to announce to the world on a tee-shirt that you are 'DTF,' what kind of message does that send out to the general public? Let's face it, most college age boys (NOT ALL, mind you, but the vast majority) only want to bone anyhow. But when you walk around in a shirt like that, it gives people the idea that everyone is DTF, and nothing need be expected to come out of your sexual rondez-vous. On one more feminist note, can I just say that this email both offends and disturbs me on every level? http://jezebel.com/#!5779905/usc-frat-guys-email-explains-women-are-targets-not-actual-people-like-us-men
All of this brings me to my next complaint:
3. The prevalence of sexual harassment. There is a fine line between flirtation (and who doesn't like to be hit on every now and then?), and straight-up harassment. Take last night for example- I went to a concert with a good friend at the Oneonta theatre and I noticed this guy staring at me while we were getting drinks at the bar. PS. I was dressed relatively asexual as to avoid such interactions in the first place last night. Anyhow, I later noticed this same guy staring at me while at the bar in the theater lobby had somehow found me in the crowd and sidled up next to me. I was polite and made casual conversation but the next thing I knew he was unbuttoning his flannel to show me a tattoo and kept trying to put his arm around me. I had already told him I had a boyfriend, and even made it a point to tell him how much I loved my boyfriend, thinking he would get the point and go away. This seemed only to encourage him, and he kept saying (while trying to put his arm around me) 'but if you weren't with him..." I finally became frustrated and said that if I wasn't with him, I'd be a lesbian with my friend. He proceeded to tell me that I needed a guy, and I told him I had a profound emotional connection with my friend and that if I wasn't with my boyfriend I'd be with her. LOL. This either scared him off or got the point across and he finally left. TG. A few months ago, I was hit on while driving... some guy kept honking at me and making kissy faces. When we both pulled up to a red light in our respective vehicles, he motioned for my friend, who was in the passenger seat, to roll down her window which she did. He then proceeded to compliment me repeatedly, ask me out on a date, and became very insistent when I told him 'no, I have a boyfriend whom I love.' I'm really starting to think that having a boyfriend makes other guys want you more because competition is rooted in their intrinsic male behavior. One more example, getting hit on by construction workers in the scene shop. Ew... you're old enough to be my father, let me do my work. Now, to reiterate, I'm not saying I don't occasionally like to be hit on or to be paid a flattering compliment- who doesn't? What I'm complaining about is harassment... people touching me when they have no right to, continuing to pursue me when I've made it clear I am in love with my boyfriend, or straight up stalking me (had an incident this summer with some guy in the mall walking by Claire's and staring at me almost daily; he kept telling the girl working at the kiosk across from me how hot I was, and she eventually told mall security). Can't I just be free to be me? In all of these cases, I wasn't even dressed 'slutty' like the girls in the above complaint.
4. Oneonta Theatre department. I somehow ended up working in the costume shop yet again this semester to fulfill my 290 practicum credits. I'm not sure how the same people are cast over and over again when they have minimal talent and lackluster looks, but that's another story (there are exceptions to this statement- there are some actors with considerable talent, and it must be said looks aren't everything). Anyhow, it's always a pain in the ass working in that costume shop because the costume teacher never seems to have the help she needs to build elaborate costumes from scratch in a matter of 2 months. I'm not sure why more people aren't coerced into working down there, but alas, the majority of work falls on the teacher, and me. Not only did I fill my 90 necessary hours, but I was conned into working about 30 hours over my 90 mandatory. And, not only will I only be listed on the program as a 'stitcher' when in fact I did like 40% of the total workload (cutting patterns, piecing together, sewing, hemming, detail work, alterations, minor design decisions), but some of the actors wearing the costumes really need a lesson on being polite; or just not taking for granted that even though they put in long hours and considerable work during the rehearsal/performance process, they are doing something they undoubtedly love to do. I would love to be on that stage and in the spotlight any day over being forced to zip an actor in and put on their smelly shoe in the costume shop like a mere servant. sigh. By production week, the costume shop teacher was so over-tired and stressed she was a raving bitch and started to take for granted the fact that I'd already put in my required hours and was, at that point, working out of the goodness of my heart because I knew she really needed me to. How dare she have the audacity to tell me I didn't use the correct stitch on a fucking under-dress that isn't even visible when the stitch I used worked just as well/if not better than the one she failed to tell me she wanted me to use initially? How dare she raise her voice in anger when I have been nothing but dutiful and dedicated? How insulting and disrespectful. I don't care how tired you are, you're working in the costume shop of a fucking state college, not a couture house in Paris, so don't act like you're Karl Lagerfeld. On a side note, after finding need to add multiple bust seems, and butt seems into the dresses to accommodate the generous curves of our 'normal' sized actresses, I now know why designers prefer to work with anorexic models and straight up boys (andrej pejic).
Well, after writing all of this my anger seems to have significantly subsided, so I suppose this blog was not an entire waste. And like I always say, if what I've written here offends you, just remember you decided to read it. Hopefully next time I write it will be much more positive and uplifting.
1. I fucking miss my boyfriend. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to deal with others rubbing their love and the fact that they get to see their significant others on a daily basis in my face. I deleted approximately 10 people not just from my Facebook newsfeed, but from my friends on FB because I could no longer stand knowing that they "miss [their] wonderful boyfriend" when they've been apart a fucking HOUR. I don't wanna know that you're spending "a week with my honey on the beach cause he's the best boyfriend ever <3" when I haven't seen my boyfriend for almost a month. Furthermore, I don't wanna see mobile uploads of the roses your bf sent you 'just because,' nor do I want to see a picture of you making out with him... especially when you're both obnoxious and unattractive. I was celibate for nearly 22 years of my life by choice, and now I'm celibate for fucking weeks at a time and it blows. I wish I was Asexual; life would be so much easier.
2. Dumb ho's everywhere giving women a bad rep. I am so sick of seeing these sorority girls and the general population of dumb sluts inhabiting Oneonta walking around town like it's 70 degrees and July. Honey, how are your lady bits not getting frostbite when it is 27 degrees on a good night and you're prancing around without a coat and a mini dress WITHOUT tights? Who are you really trying to impress by dressing like that and where exactly do you think you are geographically speaking? This isn't fucking Miami and you are not going to a hot night club... you are going to a seedy college bar in Oneonta, NY. And if you are trying to impress boys, it's not worth it because they only want to fuck you and chuck you. Do people not respect the sanctity of their bodies at all today? So shameful. Half the bitches I see shouldn't even be wearing what they are. I'm sorry but body-con dresses are made for people with flat stomachs. And to the girls making out with other girls to impress boys... I thought 2003 was 8 years ago. The other day when I was working in the costume shop (more on this in a minute) some girl was down there talking to her friend about St. Patty's Day. First off, can I just say she was wearing a Tiffany Charm bracelet- as I recall, those were cool in the year 2000, when my sister, her entire sorority and myself HAD to have one. She was talking about a particular St. Patrick's Day shirt that a fraternity/sorority was selling for the occasion that read " Oneonta is DTF, St. Patty's Day 2011". In case you don't know, DTF= Down To Fuck. To this I say: WTF (What The Fuck)?! How degrading. Honey, maybe your skank ass is 'down to fuck' any guy who spends 10 dollars buying you drinks at one of Water Street's classiest establishments and who has shown he's into you by grinding your ass to a Nikki Minaj song on the dance floor, but I can assure you that not everyone in Oneonta is DTF. Some people respect themselves more than that. Furthermore, when did it become cool for sluts to let everyone know how slutty they were? If someone can handle casual sex emotionally, fine. Maybe they feel liberated, maybe they do respect their body and just enjoy sexual pleasure with partners to whom they have no connection other than physical. I'm not one of them. But to announce to the world on a tee-shirt that you are 'DTF,' what kind of message does that send out to the general public? Let's face it, most college age boys (NOT ALL, mind you, but the vast majority) only want to bone anyhow. But when you walk around in a shirt like that, it gives people the idea that everyone is DTF, and nothing need be expected to come out of your sexual rondez-vous. On one more feminist note, can I just say that this email both offends and disturbs me on every level? http://jezebel.com/#!5779905/usc-frat-guys-email-explains-women-are-targets-not-actual-people-like-us-men
All of this brings me to my next complaint:
3. The prevalence of sexual harassment. There is a fine line between flirtation (and who doesn't like to be hit on every now and then?), and straight-up harassment. Take last night for example- I went to a concert with a good friend at the Oneonta theatre and I noticed this guy staring at me while we were getting drinks at the bar. PS. I was dressed relatively asexual as to avoid such interactions in the first place last night. Anyhow, I later noticed this same guy staring at me while at the bar in the theater lobby had somehow found me in the crowd and sidled up next to me. I was polite and made casual conversation but the next thing I knew he was unbuttoning his flannel to show me a tattoo and kept trying to put his arm around me. I had already told him I had a boyfriend, and even made it a point to tell him how much I loved my boyfriend, thinking he would get the point and go away. This seemed only to encourage him, and he kept saying (while trying to put his arm around me) 'but if you weren't with him..." I finally became frustrated and said that if I wasn't with him, I'd be a lesbian with my friend. He proceeded to tell me that I needed a guy, and I told him I had a profound emotional connection with my friend and that if I wasn't with my boyfriend I'd be with her. LOL. This either scared him off or got the point across and he finally left. TG. A few months ago, I was hit on while driving... some guy kept honking at me and making kissy faces. When we both pulled up to a red light in our respective vehicles, he motioned for my friend, who was in the passenger seat, to roll down her window which she did. He then proceeded to compliment me repeatedly, ask me out on a date, and became very insistent when I told him 'no, I have a boyfriend whom I love.' I'm really starting to think that having a boyfriend makes other guys want you more because competition is rooted in their intrinsic male behavior. One more example, getting hit on by construction workers in the scene shop. Ew... you're old enough to be my father, let me do my work. Now, to reiterate, I'm not saying I don't occasionally like to be hit on or to be paid a flattering compliment- who doesn't? What I'm complaining about is harassment... people touching me when they have no right to, continuing to pursue me when I've made it clear I am in love with my boyfriend, or straight up stalking me (had an incident this summer with some guy in the mall walking by Claire's and staring at me almost daily; he kept telling the girl working at the kiosk across from me how hot I was, and she eventually told mall security). Can't I just be free to be me? In all of these cases, I wasn't even dressed 'slutty' like the girls in the above complaint.
4. Oneonta Theatre department. I somehow ended up working in the costume shop yet again this semester to fulfill my 290 practicum credits. I'm not sure how the same people are cast over and over again when they have minimal talent and lackluster looks, but that's another story (there are exceptions to this statement- there are some actors with considerable talent, and it must be said looks aren't everything). Anyhow, it's always a pain in the ass working in that costume shop because the costume teacher never seems to have the help she needs to build elaborate costumes from scratch in a matter of 2 months. I'm not sure why more people aren't coerced into working down there, but alas, the majority of work falls on the teacher, and me. Not only did I fill my 90 necessary hours, but I was conned into working about 30 hours over my 90 mandatory. And, not only will I only be listed on the program as a 'stitcher' when in fact I did like 40% of the total workload (cutting patterns, piecing together, sewing, hemming, detail work, alterations, minor design decisions), but some of the actors wearing the costumes really need a lesson on being polite; or just not taking for granted that even though they put in long hours and considerable work during the rehearsal/performance process, they are doing something they undoubtedly love to do. I would love to be on that stage and in the spotlight any day over being forced to zip an actor in and put on their smelly shoe in the costume shop like a mere servant. sigh. By production week, the costume shop teacher was so over-tired and stressed she was a raving bitch and started to take for granted the fact that I'd already put in my required hours and was, at that point, working out of the goodness of my heart because I knew she really needed me to. How dare she have the audacity to tell me I didn't use the correct stitch on a fucking under-dress that isn't even visible when the stitch I used worked just as well/if not better than the one she failed to tell me she wanted me to use initially? How dare she raise her voice in anger when I have been nothing but dutiful and dedicated? How insulting and disrespectful. I don't care how tired you are, you're working in the costume shop of a fucking state college, not a couture house in Paris, so don't act like you're Karl Lagerfeld. On a side note, after finding need to add multiple bust seems, and butt seems into the dresses to accommodate the generous curves of our 'normal' sized actresses, I now know why designers prefer to work with anorexic models and straight up boys (andrej pejic).
Well, after writing all of this my anger seems to have significantly subsided, so I suppose this blog was not an entire waste. And like I always say, if what I've written here offends you, just remember you decided to read it. Hopefully next time I write it will be much more positive and uplifting.
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