Monday, August 23, 2010

I Want a Friend With Benefits. Badly.

I wish I wasn't borderline agoraphobic. I might have an easier time meeting new people. It's just so hard... I feel like I'm constantly being judged (isn't everybody, though?) and going out in public and interacting with other people just seems like a bad idea once you've seen women pull their children away from you because you're nearly six feet tall and have purple hair. I've never actually given strangers a reason to think I'm going to murder their children, so why do they act like I'm just about to snap and start taking out all my rage on a four-year-old?

Mostly, I just want to be in a long-term relationship. I do want to get married one day- it's the traditional, hardcore romantic in me- but I want to experience things a bit before I settle down. I'm twenty-one, I have some years. Love is the thing I want most in the world, because I feel like outside of my family, nobody I've ever known gives a shit about me. Not really. I always try my hardest to give my friends everything I can, until I've got nothing left to give. If I care about you, you'll know. You'll never be lacking a sympathetic ear, a shoulder to cry on, company when you want it... But the problem with that is, I always end up as the Agony Aunt and I'm fucking sick of it. I have only known of two men in the world that saw me as a sexual being; one was Mister Gumby, Pinkie's drug-addled, semi-retarded uncle, and the other, G.I. Joe, was the boyfriend of an ex-roomate that was still dating the girl I used to live with when he asked me to have sex with him.

The worst part?

I almost did it. I came this fucking close because I figured, hey, I'll probably be a virgin until I'm thirty otherwise. But I managed to get back to reality and the fact that I would hate myself forever, even if this girl never found out about it; I didn't enjoy living with her and I was happy when she moved out, but I didn't hate her and I certainly didn't hate her enough to fuck her boyfriend. I mean, I'm not even attracted to the guy. At all. He might as well be smooth as an actual G.I. Joe down there. I'm really not into Southern guys- either they're dickless little church boys or they're good ol' boys that hunt and fish and do other things I'd rather peel my eyelids off with a rusty can opener than do. This one was the latter.

That's pretty soul-crushing when you realise that you had to stop and think about it before you nearly, while completely sober, gave your virginity to someone you're not even halfway close to being attracted to in any way. It shouldn't have even crossed my mind, but since I'm so lonely and horny and confidence-less I almost took him up on it. And it wasn't even, "I want you, I've always wanted you", it was, "You wanna fuck?" Just tossed out like a small comment on the weather. I'd thought he was joking in the beginning but after he asked a second time I realised he was serious. My friends almost didn't believe me when I told them about it the next day, until I showed them a note he'd left me on my windshield apologising for his behaviour, he was being a jerk, blah blah blah... I still have it somewhere because I know it's all bullshit and I'm still not entirely sure, after more than a month, how it makes me feel.

Something always pissed me off about a couple of other girls I lived with. We'll call them Blonde Skank and Anorexia. Both of them were so slutty and yet they seemed to have such high standards as far as physicality goes. The most I ask for is someone who's not a toad. Neither of them was any better-looking than me, but because they aren't shy and insecure, men were all over them, and if I went out with them I'd just end up receding into the shadows. I recall a particularly offensive conversation with Anorexia (who, by the way, wasn't skinny but she never ate) when, after a date with a drop-dead gorgeous guy (6'7", long blonde hair, incredible body, ice-blue eyes, showed up in a Punisher T-shirt), she told me she wouldn't go out with him again. Why? Because he had a big scar on his arm from a motorcycle crash. She was also pissed that he'd made her wear a leather jacket (during the summer, granted) so, in the event they crashed, she wouldn't end up with a chunk taken out of her arm, too. That made me ill. If I'd thought I would've had a snowball's chance in Hell of getting him, I would've stolen his number off her phone when I realised that she'd left it on the counter. Instead, this picky bitch was saying shit like, "I'll never date a man that has gray hair" or "Uncircumcised penises are gross".

Blonde Skank was no better. She was dumb as a post and kept going back to a guy that:

1. was a White Supremacist
2. beat her
3. got her addicted to meth
4. used to date her mother
5. beat her

I had to change my number because they thought it would be funny to start harassing me. I got a phone call at 7 AM, just before I normally woke up to go to school, that was this dude jacking off and telling me he wanted to come in my eyeballs. I also got voicemails that were loud slurping noises, and many, many others, to the point I was scared to answer my phone. All this from a private number. I had never even given Blonde Skank my number in the first place- she took it off Anorexia's phone. I went to the one shop in town for my cell phone carrier and asked if there was any way they could pull this private number up and block it for me, or if they could give me some information so I could press harassment charges, but they just looked at me as if I were singing Hare Krishna and spitting nickels.

So I would sit there and get made fun of on a daily basis because I'm still a virgin. I probably knew a lot more about my own sexuality than they did about theirs, even more so now, but somehow it's not okay to be a virgin until you meet someone you at least trust enough to share your body with. Yeah, it's fucking hilarious that I don't know what cum smells like, laugh it up, bitches. I won't be the one with every STD known to man by the time I hit twenty-five.

These two would also make fun of me for not fucking any of my male friends. I've had a lot of dicks around, it's true, but I never touched or even saw any of them. All of them were either gay, taken, or uninterested. I got the impression the straight ones would probably rather have sex with another dude than me. Oh, but I was respected. Great. That's fucking awesome. I can totally masturbate to the memory of my getting all respected. One of them, I'll call him the Lizard King (Lizard for short), was telling me about one of his fuck buddies that he didn't like very much and I actually said, "Oh, so you'll do stuff like that with her, someone you barely can even stand, but not with me?"
"Well, I have a lot of respect for you."
"Uh... Okay..." Not the answer I was looking for. And it's not like Lizard didn't have an open at any point. He had me alone in his room on several occasions, and clearly I was interested because what kind of moron just keeps talking to you after you give them every fucking reason not to and giving you shit all the time (I lent him books and movies, and made him CDs a lot because I didn't have any other friends that shared those interests) without any sort of ulterior motive? I fucking loved him and either he's the dumbest motherfucker on the planet and didn't know, or he did and chose not to address it until our friendship imploded just before I moved away. Probably the latter, he was a smart guy. He certainly made me feel stupid.

So all this being ignored by the male (and, let's face it, with the exception of one, female) population, it's made me feel like I'm really unattractive. I already had ten million pounds of Insecure I was hauling around, I didn't need anyone else to make it worse. And, like I mentioned before, I get looked at like an escaped circus freak. That's mostly why my hair is platinum now, so I don't even have to deal with the baggage that comes with having black hair. I got so many nasty stares when my hair was green (God, I loved that color though, it was dark, oceanic blue-green when I put it on and it faded to an incredible emerald shade), more than when my hair was rainbow-colored. And, sorry, I like, no, I love my funky eyeshadow. My favorite color is green, of course I'm gonna have about twenty different shades. I like every color but brown. And I like matching my eye makeup to whatever I'm wearing. I figure, if I'm gonna bother putting makeup on every fucking day, I'm gonna have fun with it. My sense of style is Goth-punk-steampunk-casual, and I can't go anywhere in my stompy boots without mothers pulling their children away as if they're afraid I'd go on a Godzilla-like rampage and smash them underneath my enormous (women's size 10) feet. I would love to know why it is that people can't look like individuals, rather than carbon-copies of each other.

And the things that people look at in a positive light, I can't even handle- I can't take a fucking compliment to save my life. I've gotten so used to derogatory comments and nasty looks and generally feeling like shit about myself, that I can't stand for anyone to say anything nice. Immediately, I just wonder what the Hell they want from me. What their motives are. So I'd probably still freak out if someone I was actually interested in were to, dare I say it, flirt with me.

Almost every day, I think of something Blonde Skank once said to me. "God will give you somebody when you're ready for it." Now, my first thought was, big talk from someone dating a guy that beats her. And now? I feel like I'm ready. I'm no less ready than she was, for sure. I don't understand why, when I've always tried to better myself in some way, even just small ways, and there's no way that someone I was with would ever want for love and affection... Why do I get passed over in favor of someone who's simply got a better body than I do? I know that men are men and all that, but there has to be somebody in the world who'd rather have someone like me than some skinny girl that has nothing else going for her.

Oh, and P.S. on that whole "You wanna fuck?" business... The only way I would've said yes (emphatically!) would be if it was someone who looked like this:

The only words out of my mouth would've been, "You got a condom? Cos I'm totally into safe sex."

I mean... could you resist this smile?

UPDATE: I just realised I never explained something I referred to up there. Just after my junior year of high school, I was still dressing all shlumpy and still had my long, boring, dishwater-blonde hair. I went to the mall before my guitar lesson one Saturday, and while I was in Hot Topic looking at the T-shirts (I have like a million T-shirts. When I lose weight I'm gonna make some other kinds of shirts out of them because DAMN I can't wear them all.) I was approached by what I thought was a twelve-year-old boy and soon realised was a very boyish-looking girl.

Now, I hadn't even really sexually awakened yet, but I knew that butch wasn't my thing, so I kind of freaked out. All she said was, "Hey, do you think I'm cute?"

As the guy working in the store that day recalled (in front of one of my friends I hadn't told about this incident yet) I turned white, tossed out some weird combination of "I'm straight" and "I have a boyfriend" and then I tore ass out of there.

Needless to say, it wasn't really a step up from the Human Blob I'd been stalked by freshman year. And that wouldn't have been so bad had he not been a total creepazoid about liking me.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the one and only time I've ever been hit on by a woman. Before I'd even turned seventeen.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I've Been Thinking a Lot Today.

I got to talk to Pinkie today, for about two hours, and we got to talking about guys. Again.

She complained a bit about hers, and listened to me complain a bit about my lack thereof. Long as we've known each other, she knows I would give anything just to have somebody to bitch about. She told me about the old Canadian guy that her boyfriend had invited to move in without really asking her, and that he was talking about having his ugly, misbehaving kids come to spend a weekend with him in their trailer. I said, "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to breed. I mean, it's not like I have the greatest set of genes to pass on but that's mostly because of health-related issues." And then I had a thought.

"Maybe it would be best for me to just find somebody older. Like, who had kids really young and he's divorced. Being a stepmom would be just as good, right?"

I think that's what I want. I'd probably have to wait a few years to work that out, but it seems ideal. I had already, about six months ago, decided to adopt rather than have children of my own. For a number of reasons:

1. I have a long list of small-ish health problems, but they're overwhelming when combined. I have issues with my digestion (I barely ate any dairy at all for about six years before that problem just vanished suddenly), a lot of ridiculous allergies (SOAP!? Really?), eczema, and a bad back. I don't want my child (or children) to grow up the way I did, having to explain to your best friend that you can't eat that ice cream cake or you'll be sick, or always walking around with either a sinus headache or snot dripping out of your nose, or scratching bits of your skin off in your sleep because you itch so badly, or hurting all the time because of the curve in your spine. God forbid they end up with asthma like my brother did.

2. There are so many children in this country that need to be adopted. If their parents didn't want them, I'll take them. They deserve love, too.

3. I'm afraid pregnancy might literally kill me. I'm sick or in pain all the time as it is, I can't imagine what it would be like, especially in the third trimester. Not to mention all the problems my mom had; she had five miscarriages before she got pregnant with me. I don't think I could handle one, let alone five. And the only reason I managed to stick around was because she got progesterone shots all the time. Reproductive problems (along with crazy) run on that side of my family and I'd rather just avoid it. I'll probably end up getting a hysterectomy before I'm sixty anyway.

I'm only twenty-one but I think about my future constantly. Although, one could say I'm getting a bit ahead of myself because I've never even been on a date before, let alone had a boyfriend. I've been in love, but that caused me nothing but pain.

Still, I remain optimistic and I hope that one day I'll have someone who can look at me and say, "You know, you're a bit funny in the head and you're probably the most neurotic mess I've ever seen, but I love you all the same." I know I'll never be a Grade-A piece of meat but I'd hope that I have more to offer than that. I'm always trying to learn new things, whether it be job-related (like getting technique DVDs for cuts and styles or attending makeup demos at the MAC counter) or just a new hobby (I make jewelry, crochet badly, and am currently trying to teach myself Icelandic and Finnish). I'm a total geek that loves more than anything to read, watch movies, and listen to music and then talk about it with my friends. Seriously, if I watch a movie and love it, everyone knows. I recently watched 21 Grams and didn't shut up about it for a week. Mostly because, I know it's supposed to be tragic and he's a convict and all that, but Jack Jordan (Benicio Del Toro) is so sexy in that movie. There's real sadness in his jade-green eyes, and I found myself wanting to stroke his thick gray hair (which looked like he cut it himself) and tell him it would be alright. And that sex scene with Melissa Leo? It was tasteful and really sexy up until it went back to being sad again. Something you can't say about the one with Sean Penn and Naomi Watts.

Um... What was I talking about..? Oh yeah...
That's what makes Valentine's Day so difficult for me. Not the fact that I don't have anyone to spend it with, but the constant reminders from everyone around me that supposedly you're some pathetic loser if you're alone and don't have anyone showering you with gifts. To me, it would otherwise just be another day. I don't care. I'll be alright until I find what I'm looking for. I just wish everybody didn't feel the need to make me feel like shit and remind me that I should be lonely, which makes me feel very lonely. Thanks, assholes, seriously.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

First post!

Well... Here, anyway. I have another blog, but it's mostly where I go and bitch about everyday things that happen to me and I have like one reader.

I thought I would use this one as an opportunity to semi-anonymously talk about my sexuality, It's something I've thought a lot about the last few years- I only figured out how to masturbate when I was sixteen- and I've been learning things about myself in the process.

To name a few:

Last summer, I realised, rather anticlimactically, that yes, I do like girls. Big fucking deal. I still prefer men, but damn if I haven't seen quite a few ladies in the last few years that were drool-worthy in my mind. The catalyst that made me discover this? I was reading a magazine. Fader, to be exact, a feature on Bat For Lashes. I never made a secret of the fact that I thought Natasha Khan was beautiful, but this... felt different. I paid a lot more attention to the slight curves in her slender body, the swell of her small, plump breasts, the lovely bow of her perfect lips... And the thought ran across my mind, "I want her." Perfectly casual, and not at all scary or confusing. I wanted to kiss her, to suck and lick and play with her pretty little tits, to find out if she was shaven or not. And I've never looked back.

I also have a BIG thing for older men. My ideal man? Benicio Del Toro. I first came upon that particular realisation when I went to see The Wolfman back in February. I had just gotten my lip pierced (had to take it out a couple of months later, it rejected) and I was holding a piece of ice on the inside of my mouth, leering at him in his heavy, multi-layered, Victorian finery the same way I would have if he'd been completely naked. I had never really found him attractive before, but all of a sudden I was having these crazy sex fantasies about him. Now I've widened his range of roles in my dreams (both day and night) because I've seen more of his movies. And usually, he's got completely gray hair. I think he's totally sexy with gray hair, and I'm not sure why because it's not something I really find attractive in other men (well... that's not entirely true, but I usually only like gray in pieces) but on him it's sexy as Hell.

And fuck you if you don't like that about me. That goes for all my friends that give me shit about it. You can keep your weird, girlish pretty-boys, I'll take my gray-haired manly man any day. If I wanted to fuck someone who looked like a woman I would just fuck a woman.

I'll write more when I'm not about to pass out in exhaustion. Later!