Earlier it was regular whipits and Ratatat, but we went back for round two, and I convinced Tom to get the bubblegum. Good fucking choice, Abbie. Shit is delicious. And as for the Ratatat to MGMT switch, we wanted something with words.
I'm starving. Lindsey and Tom are eating Papa John's pizza, and I'm sitting here eating dry roasted edamame. It just goes to show you you can get used to any diet if you adhere to it long enough. Plus there's 8 grams of fiber per serving of this hamster food, and I after I learned that I couldn't possibly stop eating with good conscious.
Last weekend with these crazy kids. I think were going to watch movies and dabble. I invited that guy over. He should say no, so that I don't have to be forcibly social. It can be exhausting, you know. Plus, I'm pretty sure he has Asperger's, and who needs inconvenient Chris flashbacks? Not this girl. Although if he offers to show me his poetry, I will accept immediately. It's a thing.
I've decided I'm going to start making my own peanut butter. Maple peanut butter, because I fucking love maple syrup. But for now I need to go find some sustenance that has more flavor than these little dried out beans. Bleh.
4/29/11
Failed Taco Bell trips suck.
They messed up my order at Taco Bell. I get one little thing and you fuck it up, really? The first Taco Bell we went to was closed. My window was down and this ridiculously drunk bro staggered up to it and asked me if he could hop in the car. I told him that didn't sound safe. Bro was persistent. Then I told him he had a bandaid on his shirt, because he did, and he got distracted. We escaped unscathed.
But I still don't have a burrito and that's lame. When I believed in God and I was in the throes of weight-loss obsession, I would've taken it as a sign that God was telling me I was too fat. I just came across a blog that had some "Weight-loss Wednesday" shit on it, and it instantly made me tired. I hate how it's a big deal.
Reminds me of when I was persistently in a bad mood in high school because I never ate. All I would do was walk around exhausted and then go home and sleep. And then there was the throwing up stage. That was more depression related, though. I would eat, vomit, cry, but then I would actually feel better. It was fucking crazy, and I knew it.
The stupid thing is it's not like I just learned to love myself and it all went away. I wanted to lose weight so bad, but I realized that eating disorders, unless taken to the extreme, are extremely ineffective. So I became vegan. In the beginning it felt like deprivation, so it had similar psychological effects, but it wasn't unhealthy. And it made me lose weight like crazy.
I would probably rate my self esteem as above average now. I can admit that if I gained weight, it would depress me. I don't really think about it too much, but at the same time I sort of miss obsessing about it. I still have the veganism thing, though. Say what you will about doing it for the right reasons (and it's not like it was 100% about the weight loss anyway), but it saved me. Just sayin'.
But I still don't have a burrito and that's lame. When I believed in God and I was in the throes of weight-loss obsession, I would've taken it as a sign that God was telling me I was too fat. I just came across a blog that had some "Weight-loss Wednesday" shit on it, and it instantly made me tired. I hate how it's a big deal.
Reminds me of when I was persistently in a bad mood in high school because I never ate. All I would do was walk around exhausted and then go home and sleep. And then there was the throwing up stage. That was more depression related, though. I would eat, vomit, cry, but then I would actually feel better. It was fucking crazy, and I knew it.
The stupid thing is it's not like I just learned to love myself and it all went away. I wanted to lose weight so bad, but I realized that eating disorders, unless taken to the extreme, are extremely ineffective. So I became vegan. In the beginning it felt like deprivation, so it had similar psychological effects, but it wasn't unhealthy. And it made me lose weight like crazy.
I would probably rate my self esteem as above average now. I can admit that if I gained weight, it would depress me. I don't really think about it too much, but at the same time I sort of miss obsessing about it. I still have the veganism thing, though. Say what you will about doing it for the right reasons (and it's not like it was 100% about the weight loss anyway), but it saved me. Just sayin'.
4/28/11
I can't stop talking, so I'll write it all here.
I don't know why, but I have just been super chatty lately. Even when people stop listening, I am still not deterred. I talked to myself for like two hours while I was doing my homework last night. John was there, but he was talking to his boyfriend and then sleeping. It's weird, but I develop an insatiable appetite for high-energy, humorous conversation with myself when I'm doing my Chinese homework. Surely I am going insane.
Jesse mentioned making houses out of cobb or something, so I googled it. At first I thought he was just being a liar because nothing came up, but when I added the word "house" to the query I got somewhere. My boyfriend is a dirty hipster. But anyway, before all that, Cobb salad popped up. This reminds me of Cindy and Chrissy, because they always used to get it at Hall's Diner. Then I looked more into the links that popped up because I've never really investigated the matter, and I realized that Cobb salad is fucking nast'. Egg, bacon, AND chicken?! Excessive. And the recipe calls for iceberg lettuce. what. I just don't... Ew. This is why food that was invented in America is offensive to the palette. Oh, except for waffle cones. Good idea, bro.
Remember when you took 18 hours out of your life to stop eating and sleeping so you could read straight through Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows right after you waited at Barnes & Noble for four hours to get the book as soon as you could? And then remember how you were so tired and so fucking full of despair because these characters that you liked better than your best friends were going to develop no more that you just sat in your room and sobbed for approximately 17 of those 18 hours? Wait, no, who does that? That would be crazy... Ahem. Anyways, and then do you remember how you READ THE FUCKING EPILOGUE AND REALIZED THAT JK ROWLING JUST SHIT ON YOUR FACE. Figuratively, I mean. Anyway, I just watched the trailer for part II of the last movie, and I couldn't help but remember how she ripped my heart out with that epilogue and fed it to the man. We could dissect every little awful bit of that horrid chapter, but I'll just cover one thing. Do you really think Harry would want to make a career fighting dark wizards when he spent his whole fucking childhood doing that? What about Dumbledore's Army and all that shit? It would've been like fucking perfect if he became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, considering the curse would be broken and shit. Just saying. She could write that whole series with all those crazy plot intricacies, but she couldn't manage to write an epilogue that wasn't fucking ridiculous. Oh yeah, I lied. Two more things: a) Harry was Jesus and b) the kid's names sucked. BAM.
I deleted my Twitter. If I'm faking my own death and moving off the grid one day with all my cats, I need to become less connected. But really, I was starting to think in 140 characters, and it was starting to freak me out. I want an attention span. I do, I do, I do.
Caitlin texted me today. I opened those floodgates. Dammit. She said something about how she misses show choir and how close we all were. What? I don't even... Sigh. Needless to say, I've been over that whole scene since, um, graduation like a year ago? Yeah. And also, we weren't really friends after like junior year, anyway. People are strange. I can't believe I even took the initiative to talk to her again just so I can hook her up with one of Jesse's friends. I'm going to have to hang out with her again, you know? It's crazy.
The further my relationship progresses, the more identifiable my personality type gets. It's kind of scary. My personality type is so susceptible to manipulation and using. Everybody make sure I only ever date really, really nice people, k? Because seriously, I don't say "no" like ever (like having to talk to Caitlin again to hooke her up with Shawn, *shudder*), and it's probably near impossible for me to break up with someone. Also, listening to Elliott Smith too much has made it easier to romanticize shitty relationships and life situations. And I've got daddy problems. Although I'm beginning to realize that I'm too self aware to not be able to identify when bad shit is going down. Being smart is pretty coo'.
Next year I'm going to take a fuckload of credit hours, but I'm getting a kitten and I'm not going to be living in a dorm, so I'm fairly confident I cant handle it. I'm ready for semi-real adulthood. I understand it's still college, but at least I'm not living on campus anymore. It's seriously ridiculous. Whose idea was this shit? Lindsey & Tom are living in Collins next year. For some reason they seem to think that a change of scenery will fix their anti-sociability. I am so, so glad I don't have to be privy to all that shit. How do you expect people to like you when you have had a superiority complex from the beginning? If you can't get along with people, don't live in such close proximity to them. Poor life decisions.
I complain about my friends in almost every single post. I think everyone should understand that I'm not this bitter bitch that hates everyone close to her. First of all, I would much rather complain through a medium that no one will probably see (who's going to read this far. seriously) than complain to people I would rather talk about happy things with. I do love my friends. We live in such close proximity to each other and I literally hang out with the same three other people every single night. Especially when it's in my room and they all make huge messes, my inner organizational freak wants to shoot itself. It's easy to get sick of them. It also doesn't help that they've all hated each other all year, so I spend the majority of my time listening to all my friends talk about each other. I get my own room next year. Sweet relief.
I found this post to sufficiently expel a lot of my talky-tension. I could go for hours. I'm only 60% introvert, you know. I just wish Lindsey and Tom would wake the fuck up so I could turn on the light and start my homework. They've become literally nocturnal. It's inconvenient. Peace.
Jesse mentioned making houses out of cobb or something, so I googled it. At first I thought he was just being a liar because nothing came up, but when I added the word "house" to the query I got somewhere. My boyfriend is a dirty hipster. But anyway, before all that, Cobb salad popped up. This reminds me of Cindy and Chrissy, because they always used to get it at Hall's Diner. Then I looked more into the links that popped up because I've never really investigated the matter, and I realized that Cobb salad is fucking nast'. Egg, bacon, AND chicken?! Excessive. And the recipe calls for iceberg lettuce. what. I just don't... Ew. This is why food that was invented in America is offensive to the palette. Oh, except for waffle cones. Good idea, bro.
Remember when you took 18 hours out of your life to stop eating and sleeping so you could read straight through Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows right after you waited at Barnes & Noble for four hours to get the book as soon as you could? And then remember how you were so tired and so fucking full of despair because these characters that you liked better than your best friends were going to develop no more that you just sat in your room and sobbed for approximately 17 of those 18 hours? Wait, no, who does that? That would be crazy... Ahem. Anyways, and then do you remember how you READ THE FUCKING EPILOGUE AND REALIZED THAT JK ROWLING JUST SHIT ON YOUR FACE. Figuratively, I mean. Anyway, I just watched the trailer for part II of the last movie, and I couldn't help but remember how she ripped my heart out with that epilogue and fed it to the man. We could dissect every little awful bit of that horrid chapter, but I'll just cover one thing. Do you really think Harry would want to make a career fighting dark wizards when he spent his whole fucking childhood doing that? What about Dumbledore's Army and all that shit? It would've been like fucking perfect if he became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, considering the curse would be broken and shit. Just saying. She could write that whole series with all those crazy plot intricacies, but she couldn't manage to write an epilogue that wasn't fucking ridiculous. Oh yeah, I lied. Two more things: a) Harry was Jesus and b) the kid's names sucked. BAM.
I deleted my Twitter. If I'm faking my own death and moving off the grid one day with all my cats, I need to become less connected. But really, I was starting to think in 140 characters, and it was starting to freak me out. I want an attention span. I do, I do, I do.
Caitlin texted me today. I opened those floodgates. Dammit. She said something about how she misses show choir and how close we all were. What? I don't even... Sigh. Needless to say, I've been over that whole scene since, um, graduation like a year ago? Yeah. And also, we weren't really friends after like junior year, anyway. People are strange. I can't believe I even took the initiative to talk to her again just so I can hook her up with one of Jesse's friends. I'm going to have to hang out with her again, you know? It's crazy.
The further my relationship progresses, the more identifiable my personality type gets. It's kind of scary. My personality type is so susceptible to manipulation and using. Everybody make sure I only ever date really, really nice people, k? Because seriously, I don't say "no" like ever (like having to talk to Caitlin again to hooke her up with Shawn, *shudder*), and it's probably near impossible for me to break up with someone. Also, listening to Elliott Smith too much has made it easier to romanticize shitty relationships and life situations. And I've got daddy problems. Although I'm beginning to realize that I'm too self aware to not be able to identify when bad shit is going down. Being smart is pretty coo'.
Next year I'm going to take a fuckload of credit hours, but I'm getting a kitten and I'm not going to be living in a dorm, so I'm fairly confident I cant handle it. I'm ready for semi-real adulthood. I understand it's still college, but at least I'm not living on campus anymore. It's seriously ridiculous. Whose idea was this shit? Lindsey & Tom are living in Collins next year. For some reason they seem to think that a change of scenery will fix their anti-sociability. I am so, so glad I don't have to be privy to all that shit. How do you expect people to like you when you have had a superiority complex from the beginning? If you can't get along with people, don't live in such close proximity to them. Poor life decisions.
I complain about my friends in almost every single post. I think everyone should understand that I'm not this bitter bitch that hates everyone close to her. First of all, I would much rather complain through a medium that no one will probably see (who's going to read this far. seriously) than complain to people I would rather talk about happy things with. I do love my friends. We live in such close proximity to each other and I literally hang out with the same three other people every single night. Especially when it's in my room and they all make huge messes, my inner organizational freak wants to shoot itself. It's easy to get sick of them. It also doesn't help that they've all hated each other all year, so I spend the majority of my time listening to all my friends talk about each other. I get my own room next year. Sweet relief.
I found this post to sufficiently expel a lot of my talky-tension. I could go for hours. I'm only 60% introvert, you know. I just wish Lindsey and Tom would wake the fuck up so I could turn on the light and start my homework. They've become literally nocturnal. It's inconvenient. Peace.
Awww yeahhh, bitch!
I don't even know why I made such an irrelevant title for this. I suppose it sort of describes my mood right now. I took my Chinese final which means now I can be stressed out about other things. Yeah!
I obtained a bitchin' spot in one of the leather armchairs in the East lounge in the Union. First of all, I need to figure out if there are North and West lounges, because that shit has been confusing me all year, and I feel like it's about time I figured it out. Secondly, I'm going to have to surrender my bitchin' spot because I told Jesse I would call and wake him up, and I don't want to be that douchey loser that talks on their cell phone in the middle of the quiet lounge. This is a fucking good spot, too. It has an ottoman and everything. Goddammit, I could totally take a nap here before my next class. The things I do for love.
My best friend is excited by the idea of being a home wrecker. I can see this elation, and it scares me. Why is it that, you know, bitches be so crazy? In all fairness, it could just be completely innocent on his part, but it still weirds me out. I mean, he is paying for her coffee. This makes me laugh for layers of reasons that I won't take the time to go into, but it should leave us all wondering if the poor anarchist bastard is aware of his contribution to the pursuit of the bourgeois lifestyle. Because that's what's happening. Today. I feel like someone should tell him he would do better to shoot her than to buy her shit, but that's not my job.
Yes, I've spent a fair amount of time with anarchists now, and all that I took away from it was that you should shoot rich people and cops or something like that. Ahh, violent revolution. It's like Soviet Russia, but the people are doing the brain draining instead of the government. I watched that movie in Chinese class in high school about Communism. Don't fucking shoot doctors because your wife will die because she's bleeding out her vag. Lesson learned, kids. "I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies!" Word.
I'm already fifteen minutes late at waking Jesse up, but it's a punishment for making me lose my bitchin' spot. Just kidding, I actually sort of just got distracted, and also if someone asks me to wake them up at a certain time, I automatically assume we mean fifteen minutes later. Because waking up on time is fucking depressing. So although I have many more interesting things to say, I must depart. Especially since this guy just walked in speaking Russian very loudly on his cell phone. Shit's goin' down; I still don't trust those socialist bastards. Although Putin has beautiful eyes, but I'm pretty sure he's not even president anymore. What? Oh yeah, I'm going.
I obtained a bitchin' spot in one of the leather armchairs in the East lounge in the Union. First of all, I need to figure out if there are North and West lounges, because that shit has been confusing me all year, and I feel like it's about time I figured it out. Secondly, I'm going to have to surrender my bitchin' spot because I told Jesse I would call and wake him up, and I don't want to be that douchey loser that talks on their cell phone in the middle of the quiet lounge. This is a fucking good spot, too. It has an ottoman and everything. Goddammit, I could totally take a nap here before my next class. The things I do for love.
My best friend is excited by the idea of being a home wrecker. I can see this elation, and it scares me. Why is it that, you know, bitches be so crazy? In all fairness, it could just be completely innocent on his part, but it still weirds me out. I mean, he is paying for her coffee. This makes me laugh for layers of reasons that I won't take the time to go into, but it should leave us all wondering if the poor anarchist bastard is aware of his contribution to the pursuit of the bourgeois lifestyle. Because that's what's happening. Today. I feel like someone should tell him he would do better to shoot her than to buy her shit, but that's not my job.
Yes, I've spent a fair amount of time with anarchists now, and all that I took away from it was that you should shoot rich people and cops or something like that. Ahh, violent revolution. It's like Soviet Russia, but the people are doing the brain draining instead of the government. I watched that movie in Chinese class in high school about Communism. Don't fucking shoot doctors because your wife will die because she's bleeding out her vag. Lesson learned, kids. "I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies!" Word.
I'm already fifteen minutes late at waking Jesse up, but it's a punishment for making me lose my bitchin' spot. Just kidding, I actually sort of just got distracted, and also if someone asks me to wake them up at a certain time, I automatically assume we mean fifteen minutes later. Because waking up on time is fucking depressing. So although I have many more interesting things to say, I must depart. Especially since this guy just walked in speaking Russian very loudly on his cell phone. Shit's goin' down; I still don't trust those socialist bastards. Although Putin has beautiful eyes, but I'm pretty sure he's not even president anymore. What? Oh yeah, I'm going.
4/27/11
Day two. This is so much fun!
And by day two, I'm referring to the emotional instability cycle. Today we move on from anger and progress to extreme sadness. Yes! This birth control has got me all fucked up. It's making everything so much more intense. I hate everything.
It's the type of sadness where nothing seems ok. In my opinion, this is the worst one, because it results in that distinct "un-pretty" feeling. I do hope that all girls experience this, because I know at least Lindsey does as well. None of the outfits I try on seem to look good, I feel ugly, and I feel fat. The mirror is my worst enemy today. I know this sounds vain, but self-confidence is important. It makes you feel like shit when it's gone.
The hopelessness is the funnest part. All I want to do right now is listen to sad music and sit on Lindsey's bed and cry. Because surely, nothing good will ever happen in my life. All the good things right now are illusions that I use as a device to not kill myself. And Elliott Smith, Fiona Apple, and Jewel can express this perfectly for me. YES THIS IS MY THOUGHT PROCESS RIGHT NOW. SO VERY, VERY RATIONAL.
I'm glad John is my friend. He's helping put things in perspective and calm me down, at least. Gay friends are the fucking best things on earth. This is why I've never needed a boyfriend. And now I'm going to go eat a cookie and smoke a cigarette. Ah.
It's the type of sadness where nothing seems ok. In my opinion, this is the worst one, because it results in that distinct "un-pretty" feeling. I do hope that all girls experience this, because I know at least Lindsey does as well. None of the outfits I try on seem to look good, I feel ugly, and I feel fat. The mirror is my worst enemy today. I know this sounds vain, but self-confidence is important. It makes you feel like shit when it's gone.
The hopelessness is the funnest part. All I want to do right now is listen to sad music and sit on Lindsey's bed and cry. Because surely, nothing good will ever happen in my life. All the good things right now are illusions that I use as a device to not kill myself. And Elliott Smith, Fiona Apple, and Jewel can express this perfectly for me. YES THIS IS MY THOUGHT PROCESS RIGHT NOW. SO VERY, VERY RATIONAL.
I'm glad John is my friend. He's helping put things in perspective and calm me down, at least. Gay friends are the fucking best things on earth. This is why I've never needed a boyfriend. And now I'm going to go eat a cookie and smoke a cigarette. Ah.
4/26/11
The kittens helped, but I'm still pissed.
I must be the angriest person in the world right now. I'm self-aware enough to know that my hormones are making me irritable, but that doesn't make it go away. I looked at some pictures of kittens on petfinder.com in anticipation of next school year, and it made me feel a bit better. Which just goes to show that I'm on crazy female mode right now. Hey, body, you do know that kittens aren't human babies and you can't birth them, right? Goddammit, logic, where are you? I disgust myself.
I'm sick of cleaning up after my friends. I know I sound like my mother right now, but it wasn't my choice to bring these people into the world, or really even into my room, you know? I have no claim over them, and therefore I do not want to clean up after them. As I was typing that paragraph, I'm pretty sure Tom just threw away his curried pork container in our trash. In our like 10x10 room. Lindsey and I must have told him a billion times not to throw away fresh food containers in our trash, because it makes the room reek, but he doesn't fucking listen. He is way too accustomed to his mom picking up after him, and it annoys me. I just washed his disgusting queso dip bowl that he left on my desk for four days, threw away his frozen food boxes he left under my bed, and spent ten minutes scraping the cookie off my desk that he and Lindsey superglued to it. Last week I put all the open food containers he left in our fridge in Ziploc bags after I CLEANED OUT THE FRIDGE I NEVER FUCKING USE BECAUSE IT SMELLED SO GODDAMN BAD. It smells like rats in here. My things need to be organized, and Lindsey's clutter overflows onto my little corner of the room. Holy shit; I can't breathe. It's a good thing I don't have a gun. NINE DAYS.
I was supposed to go to lunch with Kile today. We talked about it several times, and then right before we were supposed to meet he just never texted me back. I wasn't surprised. He's like $70 in debt with me and a few other friends, so I've grown accustomed to the sketchiness. Then about half an hour ago, he comes into our room and just stands there awkwardly for like ten minutes not really saying anything, putting the pressure on me to once again be the fucking entertainer. Goddamn you. I do not have the patience nor desire to fucking uphold the illusion of normalcy. Shit is going down, everyone knows it, so why am I expected to guide the conversation into safe, neutral territory? Fuck that. The funny thing is he wanted to know if I wanted to go get food with him. How about you pay me back that $10 first, buddy? Jesus, I am unforgiving today.
As much as it doesn't pertain to me, the person who is pissing me off the most today is Nathan. I haven't even seen him in a week, but he was the topic of conversation a lot today, and it made me want to punch someone. First of all, dude is a plain old bastard. Like really. Stupid jackass, even. Choose whichever demeaning classification you'd like; they all apply. He told me he had a crush on me when he first met me, which he just "had to get off his chest because he's getting married in a month." Fuck you. He was proud of the 50 cent ring he got his fiancée, because even though it wasn't much, it made him feel "original." It's especially funny because his grandparents gave him like $300 to buy her a ring, which he spent on drugs. Die, please. He won't take care of Bill Clinton, his cat. And today he bought a baby chick for a pet. There's so much wrong with this, I won't even begin. But as we all know, animal abuse is serious business. He must die. Okay, that's really a joke, but no one would miss him. Such a dumbass.
Every time someone makes fun of Chinese, says something asinine, makes an unfounded claim, or does something rude or inconsiderate, I get the real urge to strangle them. Menstruation is a dangerous thing. See, this is why women can't hold positions of power. It all makes sense now...
I'm sick of cleaning up after my friends. I know I sound like my mother right now, but it wasn't my choice to bring these people into the world, or really even into my room, you know? I have no claim over them, and therefore I do not want to clean up after them. As I was typing that paragraph, I'm pretty sure Tom just threw away his curried pork container in our trash. In our like 10x10 room. Lindsey and I must have told him a billion times not to throw away fresh food containers in our trash, because it makes the room reek, but he doesn't fucking listen. He is way too accustomed to his mom picking up after him, and it annoys me. I just washed his disgusting queso dip bowl that he left on my desk for four days, threw away his frozen food boxes he left under my bed, and spent ten minutes scraping the cookie off my desk that he and Lindsey superglued to it. Last week I put all the open food containers he left in our fridge in Ziploc bags after I CLEANED OUT THE FRIDGE I NEVER FUCKING USE BECAUSE IT SMELLED SO GODDAMN BAD. It smells like rats in here. My things need to be organized, and Lindsey's clutter overflows onto my little corner of the room. Holy shit; I can't breathe. It's a good thing I don't have a gun. NINE DAYS.
I was supposed to go to lunch with Kile today. We talked about it several times, and then right before we were supposed to meet he just never texted me back. I wasn't surprised. He's like $70 in debt with me and a few other friends, so I've grown accustomed to the sketchiness. Then about half an hour ago, he comes into our room and just stands there awkwardly for like ten minutes not really saying anything, putting the pressure on me to once again be the fucking entertainer. Goddamn you. I do not have the patience nor desire to fucking uphold the illusion of normalcy. Shit is going down, everyone knows it, so why am I expected to guide the conversation into safe, neutral territory? Fuck that. The funny thing is he wanted to know if I wanted to go get food with him. How about you pay me back that $10 first, buddy? Jesus, I am unforgiving today.
As much as it doesn't pertain to me, the person who is pissing me off the most today is Nathan. I haven't even seen him in a week, but he was the topic of conversation a lot today, and it made me want to punch someone. First of all, dude is a plain old bastard. Like really. Stupid jackass, even. Choose whichever demeaning classification you'd like; they all apply. He told me he had a crush on me when he first met me, which he just "had to get off his chest because he's getting married in a month." Fuck you. He was proud of the 50 cent ring he got his fiancée, because even though it wasn't much, it made him feel "original." It's especially funny because his grandparents gave him like $300 to buy her a ring, which he spent on drugs. Die, please. He won't take care of Bill Clinton, his cat. And today he bought a baby chick for a pet. There's so much wrong with this, I won't even begin. But as we all know, animal abuse is serious business. He must die. Okay, that's really a joke, but no one would miss him. Such a dumbass.
Every time someone makes fun of Chinese, says something asinine, makes an unfounded claim, or does something rude or inconsiderate, I get the real urge to strangle them. Menstruation is a dangerous thing. See, this is why women can't hold positions of power. It all makes sense now...
4/23/11
Fuck it.
Lindsey and Tom are rude. They went out to dinner without me, because they said they had already decided they wanted to go there, so if I didn't too bad. They abandoned me all night yesterday, too. Practically no one is here because it's Easter weekend, so I've been alone pretty much the whole time. I'm hormonal so it made me cry, but now I'm sort of over it. Lindsey and Tom being horrible friends (and crazy, too) is pretty much the only thing I can depend on to never change.
So I think I'm going to watch Casablanca and eat cookies, pretzels, and hummus. I'm not used to being alone so it kind of weirds me out, but I guess I need to get more accustomed to real life again. I used to spend a lot of time alone before I came here, but all of my friends are (usually) horribly clingy. I mean, seriously. One time John, Kile, and I went to Fort Wayne for the weekend. When we came back to Bloomington, I went to my room so I could unpack and shit, and they just followed me in there and stood around and watched me unpack for like 5 minutes before it got so weird they finally left. Like come on now, guys, I just spent a whole weekend with you. There's no need to continue following me.
And the worst part is that if I ask them to leave, they seem to get personally offended. No one knows what it's like to constantly have people in your room that you have to entertain and clean up after and shit. If they want alone time, they can just go to their rooms, but I never get that. But if I ask John to leave, he'll get this really shitty attitude like I'm being a bitch or something. Drives me nuts. Kile isn't so bad, but I feel like it makes him feel like he's intruding. The fact that he feels bad makes me feel bad. This whole entire paragraph makes my eye twitch.
Right now I'm pretty sure John is with his boyfriend. Kile is at home for Easter, and Tom and Lindsey are out to dinner. That eliminates anyone on our floor who might try to bother me. See, I was upset when I began to write this, but now I feel like I got the better end of the deal. This shit does work.
4/20/11
Crazy in love. Mad emphasis on the crazy.
I'm taking a break from my Chinese homework, because it's bullshit. It's raining, I'm on uppers, and I have a huge bag of pretzels next to me. Also, I'm overanalyzing everything. Good times, I'm tellin' ya.
My nugget is so horribly depressed, and it's driving me nuts that I can't do anything about it. Not that I'm so special I can like cure depression or whatever, but I can't even be with him to hold him and just be there. It's a terrible feeling. It's nothing compared to what he's feeling, though. I can hear the pain in his voice. It's enough to make me homicidal towards everyone who's hurt him. Most people are appallingly stupid, agreed? They don't deserve to have such a funny, caring, intelligent, sensitive, and sweet individual in their lives, because they don't appreciate what they have.
I just realized that that sounded like one of those paragraphs that they show a 14-year-old girl writing in a Lifetime movie in her journal right before she kills her boyfriend's parents, and the young couple run off together "in the name of love." That's not the case, I promise. (I've seen those movies, that bitch always ends up in juvie. I'm way too cute for the big house.) He loves his parents and his friends, which is completely understandable. I just wish they would be more supportive.
Especially since I suck at it. Humor works when you're seven and someone's crying because they skinned their knee, but problems aren't as simple as that anymore. Which is part of what I fail at, because my life is so fucking cushy. I can't relate. So I won't try to, but that's what people need. Someone who understands. I suggested he stay with my mom until he comes to visit me, because she can be really good at taking care of people when they need it, but I think it agitated him. I went on and on about it, and I wouldn't shut the fuck up. My intentions were good, but I need to learn how to not be so annoying.
I might be a little useless. I cried during the visit where he met my mom for the first time. Over my cat. Who do I think I am? It makes me feel like an attention whore. So many people have so many legitimate reasons to be upset, and I lose it over a cat. He comforted me, because he's an amazing person, but he shouldn't have had to. I waste time and energy, and I require way too much attention. I'm weak, and I know it. I wish I could change.
But it might never happen, so I'm offering up the fact that I would do anything for my boyfriend as a consolation prize. Yes, I know it hasn't even been three weeks, but he's seriously perfect. I've been chasing people who were completely incompatible with me for the "challenge" aspect my whole entire life. I also was into guys who didn't like me at all, or treated me like shit. Again, the "challenge." But I mostly did that because I was convinced I wouldn't be able to find anyone who I could actually be with happily. (It might also have something to do with being immature, but let's ignore that.) Because like I said before, I require a lot of emotional attention. I hate it, but it's the truth. And I also need someone who can be on the same intellectual level as me. And social, political, religious views? These things are important to me.
Jesse has them all. He's so smart; I love talking to him. He's not religious, he has his own unique political views, and he feels the same way about social issues that I do. He's a VEGAN. (Which is fantastic because that means I can make him food that we can enjoy together, and I don't have to hear about how it's lacking meat/eggs/dairy. (fucking duh)) His emotional astuteness is invaluable to me. He's accurately interpreted my emotions based on the expression on my face before. I was astounded. It was sexy.
Probably the best thing is how he treats me, though. He is so very affectionate and loving. Kile and John were the first of my school friends to meet him (after Lindsey, but she passed out relatively early that night). After that weekend, I asked them what they thought. They both adamantly agreed that they really liked him. They explained that they didn't really know how they felt about him personally because they didn't get to talk to him much, but that they had to like him because of the way he treated me. Everyone likes him. He's so fucking nice and easygoing. Even my mom could not help but go on and on about how sweet he is. It seems ridiculous that I ever sought after guys who were huge assholes, because I adore his affection. I know it sounds like I'm just enjoying the attention, but it's so much more than that. I can't even describe how much I appreciate him.
Jesse is hilarious. The first time we met we watched movies at my house. I was so fucking nervous, it was embarrassing. I'm glad people can't read minds, because I was practically manic. We smoked some weed, and then we started to watch Rocky Horror Picture Show, and about half way through, I had a laugh attack. And when I say that, I mean serious business. He just kept on pointing out little things, and it was just so similar to things I would say (I think I'm the funniest person I know) that I couldn't control Myself. I sat there for like 10 minutes giggling so hard I was crying, and try to squeak out "sorry" and "i swear I'm not usually this insane" in between all the giggles. It wouldn't stop, and I asked him to stop talking for five minutes, because he still kept saying funny things. It was truly ridiculous.
Not to mention he's fucking gorgeous. (lol) But seriously, though. Although this is the least important of his positive attributes, I want to talk about it. Because he thinks he has flaws, but he doesn't. I mean I know that everyone has flaws or whatever, but when I look at him, the term "flaw" does not even exist. I just see every beautiful and unique aspect of his appearance. His thick, shiny hair. His sexy lips. The heavy-lidded stares he shoots at me sometimes. The way his whole face crinkles up when he laughs. (I can't really emphasize how much I love it when he laughs. His full-blown smile is adorable.) His cute, stubby (and skilled ;)) fingers. The gingery pseudo-beard. His chest, his tummy, his skinny hipster legs. A few body parts that aren't family-friendly (lols). I could go on forever, but I won't because I realize this is getting weird.
Can anyone make it through this post without vomiting? I know I sound like a psychopath. Like an infatuated teenager, if you will. But first of all, nobody reads this. I actually sent him a link here, but I doubt he remembers what it was, or kept it. I'm counting on that and his disinterest, actually, because if he ever read this he would probably be so creeped out he would break up with me. (Although that would make this post incredibly ironic. I will go on record right now succumbing to my hipster status. Irony makes hipsters wet.) Just like I needed to write that post about Chris to have some closure, I needed to write this post to help work out my thoughts on this. I've never been in love before, and I'm pretty sure this might be legitimate. It's terrifying. I can't help but think about how one day it will probably end, and it will break my heart. But my happiness now is definitely worth whatever happens later.
I swear, I will not write a post about Jesse for a long time. I was in the throes of heightened everything when I wrote the majority of this, and when I went back to re-read it, I even scared myself a bit. I fucking told everyone it's best if I don't say what I'm thinking. You don't realize how strange and fuckballs insane I am until I take something that sort of eliminates inhibitions. Dammit. But I feel like I have to preserve it for comedic purposes. And also because it's all fucking true.
My nugget is so horribly depressed, and it's driving me nuts that I can't do anything about it. Not that I'm so special I can like cure depression or whatever, but I can't even be with him to hold him and just be there. It's a terrible feeling. It's nothing compared to what he's feeling, though. I can hear the pain in his voice. It's enough to make me homicidal towards everyone who's hurt him. Most people are appallingly stupid, agreed? They don't deserve to have such a funny, caring, intelligent, sensitive, and sweet individual in their lives, because they don't appreciate what they have.
I just realized that that sounded like one of those paragraphs that they show a 14-year-old girl writing in a Lifetime movie in her journal right before she kills her boyfriend's parents, and the young couple run off together "in the name of love." That's not the case, I promise. (I've seen those movies, that bitch always ends up in juvie. I'm way too cute for the big house.) He loves his parents and his friends, which is completely understandable. I just wish they would be more supportive.
Especially since I suck at it. Humor works when you're seven and someone's crying because they skinned their knee, but problems aren't as simple as that anymore. Which is part of what I fail at, because my life is so fucking cushy. I can't relate. So I won't try to, but that's what people need. Someone who understands. I suggested he stay with my mom until he comes to visit me, because she can be really good at taking care of people when they need it, but I think it agitated him. I went on and on about it, and I wouldn't shut the fuck up. My intentions were good, but I need to learn how to not be so annoying.
I might be a little useless. I cried during the visit where he met my mom for the first time. Over my cat. Who do I think I am? It makes me feel like an attention whore. So many people have so many legitimate reasons to be upset, and I lose it over a cat. He comforted me, because he's an amazing person, but he shouldn't have had to. I waste time and energy, and I require way too much attention. I'm weak, and I know it. I wish I could change.
But it might never happen, so I'm offering up the fact that I would do anything for my boyfriend as a consolation prize. Yes, I know it hasn't even been three weeks, but he's seriously perfect. I've been chasing people who were completely incompatible with me for the "challenge" aspect my whole entire life. I also was into guys who didn't like me at all, or treated me like shit. Again, the "challenge." But I mostly did that because I was convinced I wouldn't be able to find anyone who I could actually be with happily. (It might also have something to do with being immature, but let's ignore that.) Because like I said before, I require a lot of emotional attention. I hate it, but it's the truth. And I also need someone who can be on the same intellectual level as me. And social, political, religious views? These things are important to me.
Jesse has them all. He's so smart; I love talking to him. He's not religious, he has his own unique political views, and he feels the same way about social issues that I do. He's a VEGAN. (Which is fantastic because that means I can make him food that we can enjoy together, and I don't have to hear about how it's lacking meat/eggs/dairy. (fucking duh)) His emotional astuteness is invaluable to me. He's accurately interpreted my emotions based on the expression on my face before. I was astounded. It was sexy.
Probably the best thing is how he treats me, though. He is so very affectionate and loving. Kile and John were the first of my school friends to meet him (after Lindsey, but she passed out relatively early that night). After that weekend, I asked them what they thought. They both adamantly agreed that they really liked him. They explained that they didn't really know how they felt about him personally because they didn't get to talk to him much, but that they had to like him because of the way he treated me. Everyone likes him. He's so fucking nice and easygoing. Even my mom could not help but go on and on about how sweet he is. It seems ridiculous that I ever sought after guys who were huge assholes, because I adore his affection. I know it sounds like I'm just enjoying the attention, but it's so much more than that. I can't even describe how much I appreciate him.
Jesse is hilarious. The first time we met we watched movies at my house. I was so fucking nervous, it was embarrassing. I'm glad people can't read minds, because I was practically manic. We smoked some weed, and then we started to watch Rocky Horror Picture Show, and about half way through, I had a laugh attack. And when I say that, I mean serious business. He just kept on pointing out little things, and it was just so similar to things I would say (I think I'm the funniest person I know) that I couldn't control Myself. I sat there for like 10 minutes giggling so hard I was crying, and try to squeak out "sorry" and "i swear I'm not usually this insane" in between all the giggles. It wouldn't stop, and I asked him to stop talking for five minutes, because he still kept saying funny things. It was truly ridiculous.
Not to mention he's fucking gorgeous. (lol) But seriously, though. Although this is the least important of his positive attributes, I want to talk about it. Because he thinks he has flaws, but he doesn't. I mean I know that everyone has flaws or whatever, but when I look at him, the term "flaw" does not even exist. I just see every beautiful and unique aspect of his appearance. His thick, shiny hair. His sexy lips. The heavy-lidded stares he shoots at me sometimes. The way his whole face crinkles up when he laughs. (I can't really emphasize how much I love it when he laughs. His full-blown smile is adorable.) His cute, stubby (and skilled ;)) fingers. The gingery pseudo-beard. His chest, his tummy, his skinny hipster legs. A few body parts that aren't family-friendly (lols). I could go on forever, but I won't because I realize this is getting weird.
Can anyone make it through this post without vomiting? I know I sound like a psychopath. Like an infatuated teenager, if you will. But first of all, nobody reads this. I actually sent him a link here, but I doubt he remembers what it was, or kept it. I'm counting on that and his disinterest, actually, because if he ever read this he would probably be so creeped out he would break up with me. (Although that would make this post incredibly ironic. I will go on record right now succumbing to my hipster status. Irony makes hipsters wet.) Just like I needed to write that post about Chris to have some closure, I needed to write this post to help work out my thoughts on this. I've never been in love before, and I'm pretty sure this might be legitimate. It's terrifying. I can't help but think about how one day it will probably end, and it will break my heart. But my happiness now is definitely worth whatever happens later.
I swear, I will not write a post about Jesse for a long time. I was in the throes of heightened everything when I wrote the majority of this, and when I went back to re-read it, I even scared myself a bit. I fucking told everyone it's best if I don't say what I'm thinking. You don't realize how strange and fuckballs insane I am until I take something that sort of eliminates inhibitions. Dammit. But I feel like I have to preserve it for comedic purposes. And also because it's all fucking true.
4/15/11
Confession #1.
The most appealing career choice I could possibly fathom would be... housewife. I don't tell anyone about this. I'm pretty sure the only person I've told is my best friend, John. It's probably the most shameful thing I could ever admit, for several reasons. Let's cover all the bases.
Is that even a real job?
First of all, I'm pretty sure that this has the potential to be the easiest job in the whole world. Especially since I would never have more than two children. It's environmentally (yeah, I went there) and financially irresponsible. But anyway, when they went to school, I would just be cleaning house. Even i can admit that that's pretty lazy.
I'm never going to marry a millionaire.
I don't plan on marrying anyone rich enough to justify me not having an income. I would have to be financially dependent on another person, and the idea of that makes me incredibly uncomfortable. If I have children, they're going to need college funds. Social security is drying up; saving for retirement, if even possible, is a must.
I'm getting a degree for what?
I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I'm not smart. If I put in any sort of minimal effort, it's pretty much impossible for me to fail academically. Not that I think that education for the sake of education isn't important, but everyone expects me to have some amazing, impressive job someday. I do have the resources and skill to achieve this, but honestly most of the time I wonder if that's what I really want. Recognition of success means absolutely nothing to me, but my relationships are incredibly important.
Feminism.
Which coincidentally, I hate. Okay, okay. I can see the merits of radical activism at the beginning of a movement for social change, but after awhile I feel as if it becomes counterproductive. It stops promoting equality, and forces the opposing forces into an endless battle mentality. But anyways, people will accuse me of not being a "strong woman" if I opt for being a housewife. Which is really ridiculous, because part of my rights should be being able to choose what I want to do. But no, I need to use my gift of intelligence to represent my gender.
So why do I want to be a housewife? Like I said, relationships are important to me. If I have children, the idea of them being raised by someone else just seems completely inappropriate to me. I would want to be there for them 24/7 throughout their early childhood. Also, I really like taking care of people. I'm always cleaning up after my friends, and I can't count the number of times I've cooked and/or baked for my family and Lindsey. I've always had a weird affinity for cleaning houses, too. There's just something extremely satisfying and stress-relieving about cleaning. I have a habit of cleaning up when I'm really stressed out, which oddly a guy I knew in high school pointed out to me in Biology freshman year (fun fact?)
Ideally, someday I would have a husband who would want to work with me on this, without the issue being gender role related, whether he views it as a positive or negative idea based on that. I would probably want to work from home, something that would utilize my Chinese skills, which I spend a ridiculous amount of time developing. That way I could work/nurture/clean. I want to live in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I want a cow that will be like an adopted child to me. Probably none of this will happen, but I think it's important to realize that you, like everyone else, have dreams that will never come to fruition. (lol)
Is that even a real job?
First of all, I'm pretty sure that this has the potential to be the easiest job in the whole world. Especially since I would never have more than two children. It's environmentally (yeah, I went there) and financially irresponsible. But anyway, when they went to school, I would just be cleaning house. Even i can admit that that's pretty lazy.
I'm never going to marry a millionaire.
I don't plan on marrying anyone rich enough to justify me not having an income. I would have to be financially dependent on another person, and the idea of that makes me incredibly uncomfortable. If I have children, they're going to need college funds. Social security is drying up; saving for retirement, if even possible, is a must.
I'm getting a degree for what?
I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I'm not smart. If I put in any sort of minimal effort, it's pretty much impossible for me to fail academically. Not that I think that education for the sake of education isn't important, but everyone expects me to have some amazing, impressive job someday. I do have the resources and skill to achieve this, but honestly most of the time I wonder if that's what I really want. Recognition of success means absolutely nothing to me, but my relationships are incredibly important.
Feminism.
Which coincidentally, I hate. Okay, okay. I can see the merits of radical activism at the beginning of a movement for social change, but after awhile I feel as if it becomes counterproductive. It stops promoting equality, and forces the opposing forces into an endless battle mentality. But anyways, people will accuse me of not being a "strong woman" if I opt for being a housewife. Which is really ridiculous, because part of my rights should be being able to choose what I want to do. But no, I need to use my gift of intelligence to represent my gender.
So why do I want to be a housewife? Like I said, relationships are important to me. If I have children, the idea of them being raised by someone else just seems completely inappropriate to me. I would want to be there for them 24/7 throughout their early childhood. Also, I really like taking care of people. I'm always cleaning up after my friends, and I can't count the number of times I've cooked and/or baked for my family and Lindsey. I've always had a weird affinity for cleaning houses, too. There's just something extremely satisfying and stress-relieving about cleaning. I have a habit of cleaning up when I'm really stressed out, which oddly a guy I knew in high school pointed out to me in Biology freshman year (fun fact?)
Ideally, someday I would have a husband who would want to work with me on this, without the issue being gender role related, whether he views it as a positive or negative idea based on that. I would probably want to work from home, something that would utilize my Chinese skills, which I spend a ridiculous amount of time developing. That way I could work/nurture/clean. I want to live in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I want a cow that will be like an adopted child to me. Probably none of this will happen, but I think it's important to realize that you, like everyone else, have dreams that will never come to fruition. (lol)
4/13/11
Chris.
The point of this blog is to improve mental health, so I'm going to write about this just once (and it's going to be a long story, sorry) for future nostalgia purposes, and also in hopes that we can put this to rest. It's not that I'm still terribly upset about it. It's just that it was the catalyst for a lot of things that has happened since then, and I'm still trying to figure out what happened.
It all started when I began to talk to a floor-mate of mine. We'll refer to him as DR, mostly because I usually call him by both his first and last name and I don't want to type all that out each time. So anyways, one of his friends, Chris, requested to be my friend on Facebook. I had never met him before, nor did I know who he was, but he goes to IU, so I added him.
About two months later (around the beginning of December) he randomly messages me on Facebook chat around 5am or so. We talked for about two hours. Honestly, until about an hour and a half in, I thought he was just fucking with me. His speech patterns and vocabulary were really strange. However, at that point I asked him if he was gay. He didn't list a sexual orientation on his profile, and in that case that's what I usually assume. I didn't care; I was just curious. But anyways, his response clued me into the fact that maybe I was talking to someone who was just a bit different. He wanted to know how he could make his profile more appealing to women, so that the wrong people wouldn't hit on him. After awhile he got discouraged and said, "Maybe I should just stop trying. I've been alone forever. I don't mind it." It was so sincerely dejected-sounding that I tried to be positive: "Oh, relationships are pretty cool, though. Don't you want someone you can just hang out with and have sex with whenever you want?" His response: "That sounds terrifying." He goes on to tell me that the thought of sexual intimacy freaked him out, and that he never really had sexual thoughts. He doesn't even masturbate. I was familiar with the concept of asexuality, so I wasn't shocked or anything, but it was interesting nonetheless.
We talked the next night as well, and I guess that's when our "friendship" began. What I came to realize, is that Chris has Asperger's Syndrome. At least, I'm almost positive he does. He had a lot of the defining features, like the distinct speech pattern/vocabulary, difficulty assessing humor, ignoring social niceties, etc. He even had synesthesia in the form of colors projected over people, which he perceived as aura-reading. I know one can't just go around diagnosing people with things that they don't have, so I asked him. Maybe this is insensitive, but I asked, "Hey, um. Have you ever heard of Asperger's Syndrome?" His response told me everything: "Oh no. Nononono. Yes." He asked me if we could not talk about it, and I apologized and said, "Of course." Then he signed off on me.
We kept on talking, though. The more I talked to him, the more I grew to really like him. He was super intelligent. He didn't play games. I didn't have to worry about him just talking to me because he wanted to have sex with me, because I knew he wasn't interested in it. He told me I had one of the brightest aura's he had ever seen. He told me he interpreted my aura told him I was passionate and inquisitive, but that I needed to take care of myself more. In retrospect, this all sounds insane. But everything he said was so sincere, so genuine. When I got him on a subject he was interested in, he would go off on a tangent. His vocabulary was amazing. His intelligence was completely unpretentious, because he just really did not care what other people thought. He was refreshing, and I absolutely loved talking to him.
We hung out just twice. He was incredibly nervous to meet me in person. He said he was afraid he would say the wrong thing and offend me. It took a lot of coaxing and assurances on my part, even though it was his idea in the first place. He had sent me this video of him playing piano. I do enjoy watching people play instruments, so I asked him if he wanted to play the piano for me the first time we met. I wasn't sure he would be comfortable with it, but surprisingly he was really excited about the idea. I walked to his dorm, he took me to his dining hall which has a piano, and he played the song in the video and a few others for me. He was so nervous it was almost alarming, but he was sweet, and it was very interesting. He walked me back to my dorm, and we talked about the existence of God and religious history on the way there. He was incapable of anything but deep conversation the majority of the time.
Music was sort of our thing. We would send each other songs back and forth. He had excellent taste, and after awhile he seemed to understand what sort of songs I would enjoy. I can't even listen to "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin anymore because of that. He would also send me cute articles and things off the internet, like the "Party Cat" web comic series. It was amazing how observant he could be when it came to my interests.
As time went on, he started to act differently. I think he began to trust me, and he was a lot less nervous. He would even tease me. I know I sound infatuated, and I'm willing to admit that I did like him a lot. But he had told me the first time that we talked that he wasn't interested in sex, and that is sort of something I require in a romantic relationship. Also, he wasn't really emotionally available enough. I can be realistic enough to say it would have never worked romantically, but my main concern was being his friend. He was fascinating, and I just wanted to be able to have conversations with him. I was content with nothing more than that. Although, I'll admit it. He was cute, and that was something. He had the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen in my whole entire life. They were just... mesmerizing. They were huge, round, blue-ish green, and he had the longest, thickest, curliest eye lashes. It was enough to make me swoon a little, but still, that's just aesthetic stuff. Not that important.
Some of the things he did seemed to imply that he was interested in more. However, I never made a definitive opinion about it, because I understood he could've not realized the implications of his actions. Like one time he called me beautiful. He would say things like, "I can be receptive to your needs and desires," if I had an issue with something. He tried hard. After the first time, he would always come up with what we should do when we hung out. He would say "Let's hang out on Sunday. We can watch listen to music and talk about politics."
We made plans about six times, but four of the times he stood me up. I would text him and say, "Are we still hanging out in an hour?" and he would text me the next day and apologize profusely, saying he had fallen asleep. It seemed like a lie, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt... over and over again. Also, even if he was lying, I just figured it was social anxiety. I was willing to deal with it.
The last time we were supposed to hang out was a Sunday night. I even came back to Bloomington from Fort Wayne a bit early so we could. He had told me we could watch cartoons and he would bring pizza. I told him I couldn't eat most pizza because of the vegan thing, and he responded with, "Well, looks like I'm just going to have to find a vegan pizza place then." It was sweet.
And then he stood me up. At that point I was a little tired of it, and the next time we talked, I told him so. He apologized over and over again and said, "It's completely understandable. It will never happen again, I promise." Then he signed off, and that was the last time I ever talked to him. He ignored me completely for the next two weeks, and then he deleted me on Facebook. It sort of broke my heart. I wanted so badly to be his friend, and he just threw it away. I sent him a message apologizing for anything I might have done. Nothing.
I was angry and depressed for a long time. Tom was so mad about it, he sort of went off on him via Facebook. I feel a little bad about not stopping Tom, but I was really hurt. It didn't help that Chris kept on (and still does from time to time) coming to our dorm to visit DR. I wouldn't actually see him, but my friends would. I just couldn't believe that he would come here after he did that to me. He had to know it hurt my feelings, and yet he was completely unaffected by the fact that if he came to my building, he might run into me. I even asked DR to find out why Chris stopped talking to me. He asked him, and he told me that Chris said he wasn't comfortable discussing his reasons with anyone.
I think he just freaked out a little bit. Our friendship was getting a little bit too comfortable, and there was too much room for error. He once expressed to me that a lot of people think he comes off as an asshole. I really think he's just incapable of fully committing himself to being a good friend, and when I told him it upset me that he stood me up, he couldn't deal with the responsibility of my emotional responses. I feel bad for Chris. Relationships are very obviously difficult for him. I miss talking to him.
I ended up seeing him when he was hanging out with DR about two weeks ago. I was outside smoking with Kile, and he was leaving our building. He passed within a foot of me. He didn't even look at me. But DR said something to me, so it's not like he didn't notice or something. Sigh.
Everything happens for a reason. I'm using this blogpost as a farewell. It was an interesting experience, you know? Maybe someday he'll try to get into contact with me again. I'll ask him if my aura is still one of the brightest he's ever seen, and then I will expect nothing from him. Lesson learned.
It all started when I began to talk to a floor-mate of mine. We'll refer to him as DR, mostly because I usually call him by both his first and last name and I don't want to type all that out each time. So anyways, one of his friends, Chris, requested to be my friend on Facebook. I had never met him before, nor did I know who he was, but he goes to IU, so I added him.
About two months later (around the beginning of December) he randomly messages me on Facebook chat around 5am or so. We talked for about two hours. Honestly, until about an hour and a half in, I thought he was just fucking with me. His speech patterns and vocabulary were really strange. However, at that point I asked him if he was gay. He didn't list a sexual orientation on his profile, and in that case that's what I usually assume. I didn't care; I was just curious. But anyways, his response clued me into the fact that maybe I was talking to someone who was just a bit different. He wanted to know how he could make his profile more appealing to women, so that the wrong people wouldn't hit on him. After awhile he got discouraged and said, "Maybe I should just stop trying. I've been alone forever. I don't mind it." It was so sincerely dejected-sounding that I tried to be positive: "Oh, relationships are pretty cool, though. Don't you want someone you can just hang out with and have sex with whenever you want?" His response: "That sounds terrifying." He goes on to tell me that the thought of sexual intimacy freaked him out, and that he never really had sexual thoughts. He doesn't even masturbate. I was familiar with the concept of asexuality, so I wasn't shocked or anything, but it was interesting nonetheless.
We talked the next night as well, and I guess that's when our "friendship" began. What I came to realize, is that Chris has Asperger's Syndrome. At least, I'm almost positive he does. He had a lot of the defining features, like the distinct speech pattern/vocabulary, difficulty assessing humor, ignoring social niceties, etc. He even had synesthesia in the form of colors projected over people, which he perceived as aura-reading. I know one can't just go around diagnosing people with things that they don't have, so I asked him. Maybe this is insensitive, but I asked, "Hey, um. Have you ever heard of Asperger's Syndrome?" His response told me everything: "Oh no. Nononono. Yes." He asked me if we could not talk about it, and I apologized and said, "Of course." Then he signed off on me.
We kept on talking, though. The more I talked to him, the more I grew to really like him. He was super intelligent. He didn't play games. I didn't have to worry about him just talking to me because he wanted to have sex with me, because I knew he wasn't interested in it. He told me I had one of the brightest aura's he had ever seen. He told me he interpreted my aura told him I was passionate and inquisitive, but that I needed to take care of myself more. In retrospect, this all sounds insane. But everything he said was so sincere, so genuine. When I got him on a subject he was interested in, he would go off on a tangent. His vocabulary was amazing. His intelligence was completely unpretentious, because he just really did not care what other people thought. He was refreshing, and I absolutely loved talking to him.
We hung out just twice. He was incredibly nervous to meet me in person. He said he was afraid he would say the wrong thing and offend me. It took a lot of coaxing and assurances on my part, even though it was his idea in the first place. He had sent me this video of him playing piano. I do enjoy watching people play instruments, so I asked him if he wanted to play the piano for me the first time we met. I wasn't sure he would be comfortable with it, but surprisingly he was really excited about the idea. I walked to his dorm, he took me to his dining hall which has a piano, and he played the song in the video and a few others for me. He was so nervous it was almost alarming, but he was sweet, and it was very interesting. He walked me back to my dorm, and we talked about the existence of God and religious history on the way there. He was incapable of anything but deep conversation the majority of the time.
Music was sort of our thing. We would send each other songs back and forth. He had excellent taste, and after awhile he seemed to understand what sort of songs I would enjoy. I can't even listen to "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin anymore because of that. He would also send me cute articles and things off the internet, like the "Party Cat" web comic series. It was amazing how observant he could be when it came to my interests.
As time went on, he started to act differently. I think he began to trust me, and he was a lot less nervous. He would even tease me. I know I sound infatuated, and I'm willing to admit that I did like him a lot. But he had told me the first time that we talked that he wasn't interested in sex, and that is sort of something I require in a romantic relationship. Also, he wasn't really emotionally available enough. I can be realistic enough to say it would have never worked romantically, but my main concern was being his friend. He was fascinating, and I just wanted to be able to have conversations with him. I was content with nothing more than that. Although, I'll admit it. He was cute, and that was something. He had the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen in my whole entire life. They were just... mesmerizing. They were huge, round, blue-ish green, and he had the longest, thickest, curliest eye lashes. It was enough to make me swoon a little, but still, that's just aesthetic stuff. Not that important.
Some of the things he did seemed to imply that he was interested in more. However, I never made a definitive opinion about it, because I understood he could've not realized the implications of his actions. Like one time he called me beautiful. He would say things like, "I can be receptive to your needs and desires," if I had an issue with something. He tried hard. After the first time, he would always come up with what we should do when we hung out. He would say "Let's hang out on Sunday. We can watch listen to music and talk about politics."
We made plans about six times, but four of the times he stood me up. I would text him and say, "Are we still hanging out in an hour?" and he would text me the next day and apologize profusely, saying he had fallen asleep. It seemed like a lie, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt... over and over again. Also, even if he was lying, I just figured it was social anxiety. I was willing to deal with it.
The last time we were supposed to hang out was a Sunday night. I even came back to Bloomington from Fort Wayne a bit early so we could. He had told me we could watch cartoons and he would bring pizza. I told him I couldn't eat most pizza because of the vegan thing, and he responded with, "Well, looks like I'm just going to have to find a vegan pizza place then." It was sweet.
And then he stood me up. At that point I was a little tired of it, and the next time we talked, I told him so. He apologized over and over again and said, "It's completely understandable. It will never happen again, I promise." Then he signed off, and that was the last time I ever talked to him. He ignored me completely for the next two weeks, and then he deleted me on Facebook. It sort of broke my heart. I wanted so badly to be his friend, and he just threw it away. I sent him a message apologizing for anything I might have done. Nothing.
I was angry and depressed for a long time. Tom was so mad about it, he sort of went off on him via Facebook. I feel a little bad about not stopping Tom, but I was really hurt. It didn't help that Chris kept on (and still does from time to time) coming to our dorm to visit DR. I wouldn't actually see him, but my friends would. I just couldn't believe that he would come here after he did that to me. He had to know it hurt my feelings, and yet he was completely unaffected by the fact that if he came to my building, he might run into me. I even asked DR to find out why Chris stopped talking to me. He asked him, and he told me that Chris said he wasn't comfortable discussing his reasons with anyone.
I think he just freaked out a little bit. Our friendship was getting a little bit too comfortable, and there was too much room for error. He once expressed to me that a lot of people think he comes off as an asshole. I really think he's just incapable of fully committing himself to being a good friend, and when I told him it upset me that he stood me up, he couldn't deal with the responsibility of my emotional responses. I feel bad for Chris. Relationships are very obviously difficult for him. I miss talking to him.
I ended up seeing him when he was hanging out with DR about two weeks ago. I was outside smoking with Kile, and he was leaving our building. He passed within a foot of me. He didn't even look at me. But DR said something to me, so it's not like he didn't notice or something. Sigh.
Everything happens for a reason. I'm using this blogpost as a farewell. It was an interesting experience, you know? Maybe someday he'll try to get into contact with me again. I'll ask him if my aura is still one of the brightest he's ever seen, and then I will expect nothing from him. Lesson learned.
I wish I wasn't too nice for manipulation...
Ok, so I have a dilemma. My boyfriend wants to shave the scruff off his face, and I need to convince him not to do it. We've only known each other for around two months now, and I've never seen him without scruff. What if he looks completely different clean-shaven? What if it's a turn off? This is completely unfair to him and irrational, I know. But he started talking about shaving and it made me feel panicky. It's a sign. The pseudo-beard must stay.
I'm one of those crazy people who is incredibly attracted to beards. And none of this half-ass goatee bullshit. Nah, I'm talking full, luscious, Amish-style, mother fucking BEARDS, ya dig? I think Jesse (aforementioned boyfriend) is starting to become aware of this. Actually, he might be suffering from beard envy as a direct result of my obsession with facial hair. His best friend has a killer beard, and I asked him if I could tug on it the first time I met him. I'm a horrible person, yes, and also very insane, apparently.
It's his [adorable] face, and he can do whatever he wants with it. I get that. But he also has this idea in his head that he should keep the mustache. You can't separate the beard and the mustache! That's like taking the Christ out of Christmas. X-mas=X-stache?!? (I realize that joke doesn't make sense mathematically, but the indignation people feel for the whole "X-mas" thing makes me giggle.) But anyways, faces with mustaches that ride solo are faces I cannot trust. What are you trying to hide, sir?
Okay, I feel like I can conclude this post with some semi-sanity. Jesse's facial hair is irrelevant. It's just easier dedicating my time to thinking about things like this, as opposed to thinking about how I like him so much it's pathetic. I could go on forever about this (just ask my friends), so I'll stop there. But it's just insane for me to really feel this way about anybody. Because it's not just attraction, compatibility, whatever; it's feeling comfortable. I just hope he doesn't get sick of all the stupid shit I say anytime soon. Oh, and I also hope he's not just using me for sex. That's something.
I'm one of those crazy people who is incredibly attracted to beards. And none of this half-ass goatee bullshit. Nah, I'm talking full, luscious, Amish-style, mother fucking BEARDS, ya dig? I think Jesse (aforementioned boyfriend) is starting to become aware of this. Actually, he might be suffering from beard envy as a direct result of my obsession with facial hair. His best friend has a killer beard, and I asked him if I could tug on it the first time I met him. I'm a horrible person, yes, and also very insane, apparently.
It's his [adorable] face, and he can do whatever he wants with it. I get that. But he also has this idea in his head that he should keep the mustache. You can't separate the beard and the mustache! That's like taking the Christ out of Christmas. X-mas=X-stache?!? (I realize that joke doesn't make sense mathematically, but the indignation people feel for the whole "X-mas" thing makes me giggle.) But anyways, faces with mustaches that ride solo are faces I cannot trust. What are you trying to hide, sir?
Okay, I feel like I can conclude this post with some semi-sanity. Jesse's facial hair is irrelevant. It's just easier dedicating my time to thinking about things like this, as opposed to thinking about how I like him so much it's pathetic. I could go on forever about this (just ask my friends), so I'll stop there. But it's just insane for me to really feel this way about anybody. Because it's not just attraction, compatibility, whatever; it's feeling comfortable. I just hope he doesn't get sick of all the stupid shit I say anytime soon. Oh, and I also hope he's not just using me for sex. That's something.
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