Notes on a Scandalous Life

This morning, on my way to work, I got my car stuck. This is one of the hazards of living in a rural area and not owning a truck, and also of feeling free to park and drive in people's yards, rather than in their driveways. I was late to work, but, fortunately, not too late for donuts. Donuts are not a commodity I have ever purchased of my own volition, but when they're free, they seem to taste really damn good, for some reason. So, I had a donut. Then, I found out that Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this, because I haven't been keeping up with politics like I should. Everybody seems to have an opinion, and my only opinion is that I'm tired of hearing everyone else's opinion. Granted, he probably wouldn't have been awarded the prize, had it not been for the fair comparison his trigger-happy predecessor cast upon him, but, meh.

So, my workday's highlights, again. I:
1. Ate donuts
2. Didn't care about politics or the Nobel Peace Prize


I think this qualifies me as a true American patriot. Where's my free gun?

I'm watching Intervention, and I noticed that there's a change in this commercial for some kind of lap band that I've seen a million times. Before, obese lady said: "I want to kiss him under the Eiffel Tower." and now she says "I want to fly to Paris with my husband."

You have to wonder why they changed this. I googled it, but I didn't get anything other than speculations. My guesses would be that:

1. We have to be sure that this guy is her husband, otherwise, it could be implied that they're living in sin. Oh, noes!
2. Kissing is almost as scandalous as not being legally bound to the person with whom one is living.
3. Flying is something that's hard to do when you're overweight, as opposed to kissing, which, I guess, is not.

I don't really care why they changed the commercial, in fact, because her fatass husband is standing right there, seeming to have no intention to get a lap band, try Weight Watchers, or put down the chips. Ugh. Maybe I should stop watching TV.

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.