Notes on a Scandalous Life

This blog has been toned down here, because it's totally public - if you want to read the full version, check it out on my Facebook.

Tonight, I've been rabbit-trailing the internet, looking at blogs, articles, and books that deal with this problem that I've been having with this guy lately. Without describing the situation in great detail, let's just say that this particular guy is a total creep: he has pursued me relentlessly, which makes me very uncomfortable, for a long time. Every time I'm firm with him, he blatantly sulks (which also made me really uncomfortable) until I gave an inch and was a little nice to him, and then it starts all over again.

Normally, there's no way I would have allowed this to continue to occur. Unfortunately, though, I'm trapped in the situation. I have more sympathizers than I used to, but, in the beginning, I almost always got responses like: "Why don't you just go on a date with him? You might like it." and "You're just too mean."

Of course, that's what women always hear when they are honest when they turn a guy down. Instead of "No way. You're old and creepy and have a muffin top." We make the mistake of saying things like "You're a nice guy, but I just can't." In her article in Salon, Kate Harding points out that it doesn't work to be a nice guy, therefore, the correct approach to scoring a chick must be to morph into a total asshole. This isn't the worst result of not being direct, though. Harriet Jacobs points out in her blog (which you should REALLY read) that women are cultured to be passive and docile when approached by men, even when they are not interested. This, in turn, leaves men a toehold to continue pursuing a woman against her will, and even to rape her, without any resistance until it's much too late. Because, if we express the fact that we are uncomfortable, a man will just default to "I was just kidding/trying to be friends/some other lie. You're such a bitch!"

That's why I've said relatively little about my situation, until now. I know that, if I say anything about what a creep he is, he'll just play it off. But, fuck it. I would rather suffer the consequences than continue to put up with this bullshit. I would rather be a bitch than be taken advantage of because I'm a woman, and I'm supposed to be "nice".

Could you handle being married to the last person you texted?
At this point, being married to anybody would be a fate worse than death (hah)... but I could probably handle a long-time commitment to LIVING with my sister. Hmm.

Were you happy when you woke up today?
Not really, just cold.

Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with?
I try not to talk to people I hate - it kills my buzz.

Can you honestly say you're okay right now?
I am very, very happy with things.

Do you have good vision?
Perfect.

How do you feel about answering personal and/or intimate questions?
It depends on who I'm answering them TO.

Do you like sushi?
I don't know, because I don't want to eat it. I don't mind being unsophisticated.

Regret not doing anything in the past week?
Not particularly.

Has a guy ever seriously punched you more than once?
Apparently, under the influence of certain substances, I sometimes feel compelled to get creative and TELL people that - but it's not really true.

Do you think you were ever in love?
Oh, sure.

Did 11:11 already pass?
Yeah, I guess I didn't notice because I was busy being a grownup and not watching the clock to wish for a new boyfriend or something.

Are you a bad influence?
That's what they say.

What were you doing at 8 this morning?
Making myself hot for work. Great success, but, now, I'm realizing that it's just work, and I'm looking sexy for nothing.

Do you remember your dreams?
I do, a lot of the time.

If you had to choose someone to sleep next to every night, and wake up to every morning; who would it be?
Diablo. The more men I meet, the more I love my dog...

Day been rough?
Not really.

Who called you last?
Hah, speaking of men...

Do you look decent when you wake up?
It depends on who you ask.

Does seeing couples in love make you mad?
No... but how am I supposed to tell if someone is in love, anyway? I usually just assume that they're stupid.

What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on?
Get tested.

What is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment?
Other people's sex is not my business, and my sex is not the internet's business.

What can you hear right now?
James Morrison: Broken Strings.

Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school?
Nope. I am academically well-behaved.

Are you positive that you are not pregnant?
Right now? Totally positive.

Do you feel alone even in crowded rooms?
Not unless I don't know anyone in the room. Then I just feel like I need a drink.

What is the worst thing a person could do to you and still be forgiven?
Forgiven by who?

Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life?
I'm a big girl - I'm pretty sure I could handle it.

Anything you are looking forward to?
It's the weekend, baby! I just need to get off work.

What are you doing tomorrow?
Trailer party.

Were you single over the summer?
Well, I sure as hell wasn't married.

How late did you stay up last night?
'Til about 1.

Can you read other people's expressions?
Not really... I am totally un-subtle.

Number of girls in my Modern Grammar class wearing athletic sneakers with jeans: 2 (Sketchers: 1; unidentifiable, but probably Wal-Mart: 1)

Number of fat people who opted for the more spacious table in the back: 2

Number of lonely and isolated men in this class: 3 (Students: 2; teacher: 1)

Number of older adult students who are probably taking this class way too seriously: 3ish (this IS East Texas, and teenage pregnancy can really age a person)

Number of water bottles: 3

Number of soda bottles: 1

Number of soda bottles sitting in front of overweight women with clearly-visible leopard bras: 1

Today, the weather is beautiful. It's a perfect afternoon to take off the t-tops, pick up a six-pack, drive to the lake, and spend the whole day laying in the sun and pretending that Lake Tawakoni isn't full of AIDS (or, better yet, getting thrown around on the jet-ski, if I happen to not incapacitate myself by drinking the entire six-pack). Instead, I'm at work, listening to old-time country, because Chuckles got to the radio first. It's my fault, really - I arrived at the office earlier, but missed my golden opportunity to launch the classic rock station, post-haste. I love Chuck, with his shorts (I have never seen the man in pants. Ever.) and his eclectic collection of festive Hawaiian shirts, but I really wish he had better taste in music. I'm zenning out... I'm zenning out.

Tomorrow is the first day of the next semester, and, instead of looking forward to it, like I usually do, I'm royally dreading it. Or all the accompanying homework, at least. I wish I could have taken the whole summer off, to give myself a break. Instead, I chose to take 7 hours and work 50 hours a week for the majority of June, July, and August... a choice that padded my bank account and bought me a few more pairs of very unnecessary shoes and some much-needed college credit, but kind of sucked all the will-to-live out of my soul.

I decided that the cure for my senioritis would be a vacation that will very likely make me even MORE reticent to return to my East Texas lifestyle of... nothing, and, so, Abby and I got our passports. My parents are going, too - Mexico had better start stocking up. All-inclusive? Very yes. This vacation will either leave me well-rested and ready to face the rest of one of my very last semesters of undergraduate study, or, alternatively, I may just be compelled to stay in Mexico forever. At this point, I'm pretty ambivalent as to which route I will take. Being educated is nice, and all, but I have a feeling that I could stretch a nice tan and an abundance of piña coladas out for a very, very long time.

I wouldn't say that I have senioritis, perse - I like college - but I am desperately looking forward to graduating. Not because I'm tired of school, but because I'm jealous of all my friends who are off and living in more exciting places with more culture than Conservative-ville, TX. So maybe, instead of senioritis, I have an advanced case of the-grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side-itis. Whatever.

Among things that don't suck about Texas: my car. Disregarding my tires, of course, one of which blew out on the fourth of July (should I capitalize fourth - since it's a holiday?). Okay, I can change a tire... but, unfortunately, my car lacks a spare. In its place: a subwoofer, installed by D-Bag Rick, the former owner of my Camaro. So, I had to get a tow. To NTB, because Discount Tire, where I purchased (or, should I say, Brandon purchased - but more on that later) my $800 set of racing tires, was closed. So, instead of paying for fireworks and booze on this particular holiday, my first choice, I paid for a tow and a cheap (sort of) tire to tie me over til I could get around to getting the blown-out one replaced. Fortunately, replacing the tire at Discount this week was only like $20, since it was still under warranty.

Speaking of Brandon! He called to inform me, the other day, that I had not yet paid certain medical bills that I originally received less than a month ago. Since my phone or electricity is not likely to be turned off if I do not pay these bills, I was originally not in much of a hurry to pay them, but, now that Brandon has decided to bug me about them (in the event that they could go against his credit), I have upgraded the urgency level of these bills to maybe. Right up there with light bulbs (which I actually DID buy - although it took me a few months to simultaneously be in Wal-Mart and remember that I can't see when I'm in the hall) - but waaay behind shoes. Maybe he should have been a bit more generous with that divorce settlement, eh? Oh, yes. I'm a bad ex-wife. Good thing I have no plans to get married again!

And, now, off to finish work for the afternoon, so I can start trying to convince somebody to rent The Unborn tonight. Demon fetus for the win!

I think just about everyone but me got the day off of work, so I'm retaliating against the man by writing a blog during my paid work hours. It's kind of an empty gesture, really, because my boss wouldn't care, but, you know. I can dream. And so, here I am, sipping on Big Red (por gratis, because my coworkers are trying to fatten me up), and wondering what I should say now.

Serving at Cracker Barrel has been going well, ever since they stopped playing the Wounded Warriors DVD on a loop. Wounded Warriors, as I now know (brain space I could maybe have used for something more important, like... well, anything), is a charity benefitting men and women who sustain injuries during their respective careers in the armed forces. Which is all fine and good, except for how, you know, the military DOES provide full-coverage healthcare, and disability. Meanwhile, people keep dying in other countries, which doesn't matter, apparently, because they didn't die for AMERICA. Sigh. I tried to relate this idea to another employee, only to be quickly shot down with a snippy"They DESERVE this. Is any of YOUR family in the military? Because, if they were, you would understand!" Sigh again.

And yet, soldier-worship is so prevalent. I keep seeing people join the Facebook group "Petition to remove 'soldiers are not heroes' from Facebook", and I have to wonder why. For one, the group is not going to accomplish anything, because saying that soldiers are not heroes is not a death threat, racial slur, or anything else that Facebook prohibits in its terms of use. It's just an unpopular idea.

Second, "Soldiers are not Heroes" makes a pretty good point: it's a little perilous to declare that all soldiers ARE heroes. Whether or not you agree with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, I'm sure that it's pretty easy to accomodate the idea that a soldier who risks his life to save a fallen comrade, or something of that nature, is a hero. But, then, not all soldiers do such things. A few soldiers see the front lines... and some spend their deployments chilling out in an air-conditioned tent in Iraq. And some don't deploy, at all. And a lot of them sexually harass their fellow soldiers. Personally, I think that we need to stop exhalting soldiers. They are just ordinary people, getting paid to preform a dangerous job.