In which I suffer the consequences of socializing with mediocre people.

Sometimes I hang out with petty, small-minded people on accident, b/c of mutual friends, or social gatherings, and it never ever ends well. I usually go home thinking it was a good-enough evening, but there's often backlash. For example, last week I went to a dinner at a friend's house (she's really more A's friend, but we're making an effort) ... and a work friend of theirs and her brother were there. No big deal, they seemed nice enough, for shallow hipster types. I was unimpressed. I remain unimpressed with the girl who hosted the dinner, too, but she and A are close friends, and her husband is nice. On the way back to my place, A told me that the sister has been hitting on him a lot lately, but he's not interested b/c she's a bit ... unintelligent. And this was unspoken, but she's not me. So, yeah. Dumb, shallow, boring girl, with mildly interesting tattoos, and I dismissed her completely. Her brother was even more shallow, less intelligent, and actually had a finger mustache tattoo ... which I liked b/c mustache, but he was dumb. No big deal, b/c they're unimportant people whom I will likely never see again. But last night, when A and I were setting up our game night at his place, he hits me with an off-hand (he doesn't do fake-casual well, btw) comment that the sister chick informed him that I had been hitting on her brother all that evening. Understandably, I was flummoxed ... Not only had I not hit on him, I hadn't even flirted with him, other than the necessary amount of flirting that comes with breathing. And A obviously believed her enough to report it back to me, and supported her statement by saying that I had, in fact, flirted with the kid, but it hadn't bothered him. Really? As time passes, I find myself getting angrier and angrier about the stupidity of that situation. I was being nice, and I get accused of hitting on a 21 yr old kid, just so this annoying bitch can try to get in A's pants by making me look bad? THIS. This is why I don't hang out with those kind of people. I don't play games, and I don't need drama in my life. If I do, I'll create my own. At this point, I am fairly furious with everyone involved, almost including A, though I'm trying to hold back my anger with him till I find out why he felt he needed to tell me about what she said. I don't think he even knows what his motive was ... but it obviously bothered him. As wonderful as he is, his friends so far leave a lot to be desired. If this is going to be part and parcel of dating him, I'm glad we're not officially dating, b/c I cannot allow that toxicity in my life. So, that happened. Whatever that was.

Sex, feminism, and the myth of purity: a demi-rant, with link.

I've been ruminating quite a lot over the past year or so on the subject of sexuality. I've always thought about it, but since the government has talked about regulating my vagina, it's been on my mind more and more. And I'm discovering that I am really quite a feminist, which kinda surprised me. 10 years ago I would not have described myself as a feminist, but that's probably b/c I didn't really know what it meant. I don't hate men. On the contrary, I absolutely love men. They are delightful creatures, and they're almost like people in their own right. I kid, I kid. Men really are great, most of the time. I've gotten really picky about which ones I allow into my life, but I still accidentally let a douchecanoe get the better of me on occasion. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I've been falsely conditioned, like all the other women in our culture, to view myself and my worth in terms of other people. One of the main arguments that my religion has against "pre-marital sex" is that it is equivalent to adultery against my future husband. Um, what?!?! I also noticed the shame poured onto women who have obviously lost their virginity and can't deny it (that is, got knocked up), disproportionately shamier than that which was applied to the male in question ... we do agree that immaculate conception was a one-time deal, right? The thoughts swirling in my head aren't cohesively coalescing into anything coherent, so I'm just going to leave this here and go eat some fucking chocolate.

http://jezebel.com/female-purity-is-bullshit-493278191

à moi!

if anyone who smokes is entitled to a smoke break (to feed their addiction), why then am i not entitled to an internet break (to feed my addiction)?

i submit that if all of us who are in essence addicted to this wonderment of technology were to rebel against the injustice of the workforce, we the many could make a change.

vive la révolution!

Jul 26, 2007

in which i rant about body image on facebook

the following is shamelessly copied and pasted from a comment i made on a dear friend's facebook status update, in which she mentioned that people who haven't seen her in a while often compliment her by telling her she's lost weight, when in fact, she hasn't. my response:

 

People feel the need to give meaningless "compliments" to women. It is sexism and sizism at their most annoyingly polite and it's infuriating. The other day a woman stopped me in the grocery store to tell me that I'm beautiful. I was surprised, not bc I was unaware, but bc she seemed compelled to tell me this. Then she kept gushing, and finished with "I mean it ... You have a beautiful face!" I somehow managed to turn away without slapping her and without telling her that my ass is also amazing or offering to kiss it. Here's the thing: There is no need to pay me a compliment on my appearance whatsoever. I happen to know that I look amazing, and also that I am fat ... And unlike the rest of America, I don't consider those two facts to be mutually exclusive. I am also aware that being pretty, and being fat, do not represent my character or personality. People are generally superficial, shallow assholes, and I'm tired of pretending that they can't help it. I feel I should apologize for the rant, but I'm not remotely sorry. This shit right here is a big part of what's wrong with our society and its attitude toward women. How dare I be fat, when I'm so pretty, and obviously could be a benefit to aforesaid society, if only I didn't take up so much space.

Unflushable, Part 2: Seven Tips for Dealing with Rejection

dear delusional, spurned, jerkface idiot:
ringing my doorbell three times at 11:30pm and demanding (again) to know why i dumped you, even though i gave valid reasons and tried to be kind, is not an effective way to convince me to give you a second chance. it is, rather, quite a good way to get a furious diatribe on (most of) the reasons i dumped you, the reasons i will not take you back, the reasons i will not even consider it, and a few reasons why you are a sorry excuse for a man who never deserved my notice in the first place. now that i've told you in person and in no uncertain terms that i do not want you to ever contact me again, the next time you call, text, or show up at my doorstep (mr. creepy mccreepypants), i will get a restraining order. and if i hear one word of a rumour that you might have said anything about me to anyone i know, i will let "hill justice" take care of you.

i have composed 7 tips to help you deal with rejection:

tip 1: sending me stupid and mean text messages are not a good way to get me to take you back.
tip 2: if you want to have a reasonable adult conversation with me, don't ring my doorbell at 11:30pm.
tip 3: don't ring it three times.
tip 4: if i ask who it is, and you tell me, and i say to go away ... GO AWAY.
tip 5: if you ignore this advice, you are stupid and deserve what you get. you are likely to receive some uncomfortable truths about yourself, with little to no sugar-coating. it will undoubtedly end badly.
tip 6: if you are so completely delusional that you might have on some level convinced yourself that YOU dumped ME, you must become reconciled to the fact that i will metaphorically crush your face with the irrefutable truth that i, in fact, dumped you. i will repeat the language with which i brutally dumped you over the phone with none of the guilt that followed the original dumping. i will yell at you, at 11:30pm, within earshot of at least 4 elderly neighbors, that i totally dumped your ass, and that it's time to get the net. and i will furiously order you to never call, text, or contact me again in any way.
tip 7: if you were not a delusional bastard, you'd probably have figured out at least some of the information above. but since you are, you probably drove away feeling self-righteously angry and justified in all your bad behavior. and you probably won't figure out that the next time you try to contact me, i will put a restraining order on your ass so fast it will make your head spin (which is conveniently located way up inside your aforementioned ass).
i hope that's enough closure for you, fuckwit.

In which I begin to be willing to see and accept.

It is not a just world.
It is just a world.

Unflushable

One week after the original break-up, I agreed to a "lunch date" with ex-bf, during which I had to explain in detail why I broke up with him. I cited reasons of his lack of support during my health scare, and general selfishness and used the mean text message as the clincher for why I would not give him a second chance. I tried to be amicable and polite, and not to hurt him more than necessary. That was this past Friday. Saturday, he texted something about the Hulk (The Avengers came out this weekend - awesome movie!), and then on Sunday night he called. I should have let it go to voicemail, but I thought maybe we could be friends. TOO SOON. I guess that gave him the encouragement to think I would welcome a grand gesture from him ... which leads me to this morning's drama ...

I have to go to the doctor twice a week, to get my INR checked. My doctor's office is 30 minutes away, so I try to go first thing every Monday and Thursday mornings. My mom goes with me, not because I need her to, but because she wants to. After the nurse checks my blood, we go to breakfast at this little diner on Main St, and then we come home, and I go to work. It's not a traumatic experience in the least, but it's annoying to have to go. That's one of the reasons I let my mom join me - it affords us the opportunity to spend time together, and distracts me from the annoying part.

This morning, I dashed out the door in a hurry, carrying my jewelry, my sweater unfastened, hair down, no makeup on, and a male voice said "hey". Shocked, I turned around and there was ex-bf. WTF? He wanted to take me to the doctor. I said no. He begged. I said my mother is here, waiting on me in the car, and she is going with me. He begged more. I said really, no, b/c I. don't. want. to. date. you. And he asked if I want him out of my life. Um yeah, of course I do ... that's why I dumped him. But I said very nicely that it's not that I want him out of my life, but I really don't think it's a good idea for us to date. So he got all mad and stormed off, and sarcastically apologized for giving me a heart attack. I said I didn't mean to hurt him. He said "well, you did." So. Third time's a charm? Maybe he'll stay down this time. Ugh.