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| I was wrong. I was so, so, so wrong about everything. Well, not everything, but the things that mattered to the core of me.
Thank you, Mr. Munroe. Your negotiation of intellect with emotional honesty makes me feel less, I don't know, like a freak of nature. For the record, I feel that way every day (although less so now that there are now THREE other females in ams151 ^_^). But seriously - you get it. You know how it feels to be caught with a childish sense of excitement about the world which sometimes gets us labeled as emotionally retarded. It's not that. It's that we desperately hold onto this hope that one day our experimentation with other people will defy our current conclusions because as people of math and rigor, we know that all it takes is one exception to prove a law false. Somehow, that one person will make everything else in the past worth it because when we get there we'll know.
Who knows - maybe Russell was my rebellious act of the year. Could've been worse (any moho can attest to this. I still maintain that losing a chinchilla and showing up to bio high on coke isn't the worst thing I've ever done in a morning). His own brother told me over and over again "don't get too hung up - you're just a pretty girl who gives him attention and nothing else" but truth be told, I didn't care because he wasn't really a person to me. Well, that's not fair, but I think I was more attracted to what he wasn't.
Mom: "Find someone who has something to offer you. Look how responsible kevin is"
Friends: "Find someone who looks less like they belong in a barn married to their cousin. Even kevin is better looking than this guy."
How does any of this make me any better than an airheaded trophy wife? Why the hell didn't I just stay at amherst and date aNOTHER lacrosse-playing asshole who speaks three languages and possibly slept with my roommate at some point?
It doesn't. So if I'm going to be someone's cute novelty, that someone is going to be my validation that my life is my own and that the decisions I make are my own. Good or bad.
You know how the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result every time? Yeah - that happened. I couldn't turn my brain off long enough to process anything he said without sending it through the bullshit extractor. I couldn't keep lying to myself- the only reason my friends and family were saying those things was because they knew kevin cared and that he was safe while this guy was just a selfish distraction. More importantly, they knew that when I was with kevin I was safe. Safe is great, but not what we ultimately want. What I want is conversation, and not have to lie to myself that it's genuine when it's all part of a thin show to hide the selfish egomaniac underneath. What do I want? I want someone to want ME - not because they're afraid of what else is out there or because they're afraid of being alone. I've asked myself this since I was 6 years old - what's wrong with just me?
And for the first time since then, I can honestly answer "nothing". Sure, I'm weird and maybe too fiery for most people, but it's me. I get way too excited about technology and anything that has to do with ripping things open to discover how they work. I could sit here and criticize myself all day, but what good would that do? Reinforce what all my ex boyfriends already have to say about me just because they're soured on the experience of me as a whole while whitewashing all the great memories? I hold onto those memories, regardless of the later outcome, because it helps me remember what it is that I wanted and what it is that I'm looking for.
I'm smart. I'm logical. I'm awkward. I'm capable of giving love so long as I get in return. All I want is for someone to see me first without being distracted by the package and not be scared.
I'm falling asleep with visions of organic functional groups in my head. Time to go to bed and stop worrying about love that was never there. Sleep well, and a final thanks to xkcd for allowing me to understand myself in the context of the world. If only there were a nerd planet where we could all go and just be ourselves...oh right, MIT. Forgot about that.
-Jill
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| Public Class Jill
Define College As String = Stony Brook
Define Age As Double = 21
Define Status As String = Single, kind of.
It's really me. After all this damn time it really is me. So what did you miss?
- I left MHC after my sophomore year
-I started Suffolk CC, finished Suffolk CC with an AA in general studies
-Since the last posting, I dated Que mas, broke up with him, fell in love with him, got insanely hurt by him, fell out of love with him, am currently limping towards a better version of myself.
-Jobs: Since freshman year at MHC I have worked the following
1. Victoria's Secret
2. Chilis
3. Olio
4. Applebees
5. Crest Hollow CC
6. BN Cafe
-Friends: Actually, pretty much the same. I only speak to a handful of people from MHC and most of the friends I have now are from HS. Luke? Lucas? Leah? Meg? Bob? Milo? Etc? All still here, but most of them are either seniors or recently graduated.
- The Ben saga ended pretty much as everyone thought it would. Hindsight's a bitch.
-I have abandoned all hopes of becoming the next great American writer and instead have begun my journey as a full-fledged comp sci nerd. It's in my DNA.
-My sister got married to someone who was never before mentioned here and should probably not be mentioned here.
That's about it - the last two/three years in a nutshell.
Moving on.
I'm leaving for Vegas in two hours. This is for both of you:
1. I just wanted you to know that this feeling isn't rare. I've come by it several times in my short time spent here. It only happens when you allow yourself to give wholly to another, but that can happen because you want nothing to do with yourself and instead seek acceptance and love in another. Love. Yourself. First. It's not that we're incapable of loving anyone until we love ourselves first, but when we are able to contribute to a relationship it becomes less parasitic and more meaningful. It is selfish to seek the qualities in others that we wish to create within ourselves. You don't know how I got here, and even if you did you wouldn't want to be here. The two of us have met at a crossroads in our lives, but unless we lay the foundation to grow together we will never get anywhere. There are many more of us out there - the hopeless romantics who use pen and paper to say what idle conversation never will. What makes this seem fated for better things than others could hope for is our initial willingness to transcend the self and care for another despite our personal prejudices. It will take work, but I feel like the returns far exceed the resources required.
2. To be continued...
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| I haven't been on this thing all of second semester. For all that you missed:
My Blogger
It sucks I know, but | | |
| So what? I've got nothing to hide.
That seems to be the theme of the week thus far. Mostly because
I've been poked, pricked, and prodded in some very uncomfortable
places. Not to mention that this kid actually bothered to google
me. Indeed, the internet has gone too far.
Mostly I've been sitting aroung taking stock of my life, which I never
do unless absolutley necessary. The cheerleading squad is
starting a new advert campaign for spring tryouts which includes a
picture of each one of us and 6 facts about us that make us
non-stereotypical cheerleaders. So far all I've got is:
-I'm a black belt in 2 disciplines of martial arts and used to box competitively
-I'm an econ major
and those aren't even really funny, just nerdy. For the record,
here's all the reasons I came up with that I AM the stereotypical
cheerleader:
-I laugh a lot
-I live on long island
-I love the beach
-I spend money like it's going out of style and I love shopping
-If I could, I'd major in the opposite sex
-I cry a lot
-I'm really hyper
see how much easier that was? :-/
Jessie wanted me to put "I am staunchly against smoking and think it's
a dirty disgusting habit", but that would just be an outright
lie. Well, not totally because I do think it's a dirty disgusting
habit, but everything in moderation. Ugh speaking of dirty and
disgusting, I passed out on top of a cigarette last night and now
there's tobacco all over my bed. Gross. I don't think it's
in my hair, but I'll shower just in case because it's always a good
idea to shower. Take note, liana. *side note: My roommate
hasn't washed her hair since the sunday before break. Damn*
In other news, I do not have mono. Just letting y'all know.
taking a nap...I'll finish this later when I actually have something to
say and not mass amounts of work to do before my 1:15 class
*edit*
I'ts 6:22. I have about 15 minutes to add to this entry.
I thought about deleting the whole thing. Xanga. It's
basically a record of all the thoughts that I had no one else to tell
and needed to get rid of. I guess the real problem is that I
didn't have friends in high school. Not that I was the weirdo
that sat by herself, but I didn't have anyone I really wanted to
confide in, mostly because I didn't want anyone to think I was
weird. In that process I found that the overwhelming feeling of
the end dissappeared. I was so afraid of letting go of everything
that I stopped living. I didn't want to let go of elementary
school so I clung onto kevin. I didn't want to let go of camp so
I clung onto ben. I didn't want to let go of high school so I
clung onto jay. I'm clingy, or at least I was. I realize
that dating people from your past doesn't make time stop. I also
realize that in the process of clinging to my past I've alienated
myself from meeting new people and growing. I've done my best to
halt the growing up process, and I'm done rebelling. It's
thursday and I'm getting ready to go to cheer practice with my team
mates, then afterwards I'll work on my bio homework, then later I'll
shower and go to sleep. It's weird, because I'm by myself and yet
I'm not alone.
and even if I am alone, I'm okay. Change doesn't mean changing
who I am. I'm still the same person from kindergarten. No
matter how mature I get, I'll never be as crusty, dry, and generally
mean as my sister. Maybe I was just afraid of turning into her,
with not a creative bone in my body. Oh well, it's time I did
this:
Goodbye, ben. You were one of the reasons I first looked at this
school, and you were also the first person I ever trusted enough to
fall in love with.
Goodbye, steph. You were the instant best friend I never knew I wanted.
Goodbye, steve. You were the first boy I ever admired.
Goodbye, northport.
Goodbye, xanga.
-Jill
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| 512 days of xanga. A semi-historic moment, but not for that reason.
I don't want to ruin any surprises for you guys, so please read to the
end of the xanga because this just might be the end of my xanga for
good. I started it with a purpose, I ended it with that
purpose. It sucks that all things fun and interesting and
emotionally intense have to come to a banal end, but alas life goes on.
I went out last night (saturday) to Amherst with the usual suspects
(rachel, hil, jen, and caitlin). We got there, ran into Brad who
was stumbling around the green, put him to bed. After that, we
were almost hit by an Amherst college official car being driven by
Eartha's friend who I'm still not sure was totally sober.
Whatever, we got a ride to the DKE house, but the party sucked so I did
what any reasonably sober person at a bad party would do:
steal a pumpkin.
The pumpkin is still sitting on my dresser. I'm going to keep it
for a while to remind myself never to go back to Amherst because white
boys indeed do not know how to party.
We went back to the PVTA stop at about 11:30 or so. Rach wanted
to go to hampshire to smoke up with this kid Sasha and his friends, but
cait hil and jen wanted to go home bc they had hw to do the next
day. I didn't want to call it a night but I didn't want to see
sasha either because he was mad sketch and I didn't want to have to
babysit my roomie...again. So the 11:40 pvta to northampton comes
along, parks for about 10 minutes and the driver has a smoke with
us. I was really cold so I got on the bus. I called ben to
see if he could put me up for the night. I don't really know why
I called him in hindsight. I think I just wanted to see a
familiar, reasonably sober face. I really still don't know why I
wanted to go see him, I think I just wanted to get away from my roomie
and the skeevy guys. Whatever. Point being, I got on that
bus to northampton.
On the way there, I got into a philosophical discussion about
relationship dynamics with a kid from umass (translation: the kid was
trying to get into my pants, I confused the hell out of him).
They got off, and it was me and about 4 smithies on the bus. It
was really peaceful, or maybe it was because I was so tipsy. It's
really sad how alcohol affects my judgement.
I got off at the last stop in northampton and called ben. He told
me to walk to the high school so I just kept walking. On the way
a fire truck pulled over and asked me where I was going and if I was
aware how cold it was outside. I told them I was sober, but then
I asked one of them for a light. They laughed, and only later did
I realize why. Oh irony.
The moment ben and I saw each other was sort of surreal, almost like
something out of a movie. I was wearing my huge white coat with
the hood up, sunglasses on (I don't really remember why), and
boots. He was wearing pretty much all black and jeans. We
looked at each other and I remember being drawn to that figure, not
recognizing him at all. We locked eyes, then I remembered that I
needed to find ben so I pulled out my phone to call him. He
turned around and realized that it was me, came up, and seemed
reluctant to hug me. I was like "whatever. I didn't come
here for that". We walked to fahn's party and as we did I told
him stories from that night from finding brad drunk to getting hit on
by a very stoned sasha. He seemed mildly entertained, but the
whole time he couldn't keep his eyes off me. I didn't realize
this until later because I was drunk and wearing very large
sunglasses.
We got to fahn's party and the minute I walked in I was repulsed.
First of all, the smell of dog shit is everywhere. The scary part
is that you can't see it so you have no idea where it was coming
from. We walk in and the first thing I see is an empty captain
morgan's silver and boxes of corona bottles. You know it's sad
when college students can afford better liquor than you.
We went upstairs and found one kid passed out on the bathroom floor who
reeked of fresh vomit. I tried to help him, but he was being
drunk pissy so I left him there. I went into fahn's room (after
ben made a point of telling everyone that I was "his friend" jill
instead of just letting fahn remember me) and found her half naked with
some guy passed out on her bed. Ben made a point about sounding
bitter and disgusted that they hooked up, and I probably should've
noticed this earlier. Whatever, hindsight is 20/20.
Oh yeah, the kid later threw up in fahn's bed. It was then that we decided to leave.
On the way to his house we just started talking about random
things. The thing about our conversations is that they end up
being a war of words. We don't really care about what goes on in
each other's lives, so maybe that's why we never get too
involved. Personally I just like his company. Oh yeah, not
to mention that he looked damn good in black.
We got to his house, went to his room, and just started hanging
around. I showed him my facebook pictures, and next thing I know
he's kissing me. I wasn't really in the mood because I was so
tired, but next thing I know we were making out in his bed. It
was really weird. There was nothing romantic about it at all, but
at the same time it was sweet because he was so dorky about it.
We had sex.
It was so weird. I mean, the second we started doing it it became
glaringly obvious that he was uncomfortable and had never done
it. I've dealt with virgins before, but usually the cockiness
factor (no pun intended) comes in and they get over it. Not so
much him. It just felt like pure physical lust. It was
awful. Well, besides the fact that he had no idea what he was
doing.
It wasn't hate sex. I've done that. It was apathy
sex. The lowest form of human expression. Sex just for the
sake of it all. I just wanted it to end.
We stopped, and we just kind of sat there for a bit. We started
to fall asleep, but he woke me up to remind me that his dad would
wonder where I was so I should go sleep downstairs. I knew
better. The last thing he wanted was to cuddle, let alone sleep
with me. After that, I'm pretty sure I didn't want to either.
I walked down the stairs to the couch, pulled the blanket over my head,
curled up in the fetal position and saw him. He was kneeling at
the edge of the couch, asking me if I needed another blanket. I
said sure. I mean who am I to blow off someone like that?
Not him, certainly.
He came back with another blanket, just as he'd promised. He
looked at me with a kind of sick admiration as he tucked the blanket
over me. He petted me for a bit, then left. I just sat
there in the fog of my own thoughts, asking myself why I bothered to
try to make him happy when all he wanted was a little Jill doll that he
could put on a shelf and dust every now and then. I realized that
all boys wanted from me was to be able to stare. What is it about
me that just makes them want to look? It's as if I cease to be
real to them if I let them get any closer. I guess that's just
what I am: an enigma. It's not that I try to puposely be
mysterious, it's that I come off that way and nobody wants to know what
I'm really like because then I'll just be banal and boring, two
qualities I despise yet covet. I despise it within myself and
seek it in others. Whatever, this post isn't about me.
The next morning I decided to be an ass and wake him up at 7:30.
I was cold so I got into bed with him. It was cute until he
started humping my leg. No joke. All I could think of was
that cosmo article about the worst hookups ever and how one of them was
specific to a guy who humped her leg. Why are guys such
morons? What, besides a dog, humps your leg? Ugh just one
more reminder of the worst night of hooking up ever.
I think I just fucked him that morning just to get rid of his raging
boner/leg-humping tendencies. Oh yeah, to top it all off his dad
walked in on us. Like, take every thing that could possibly be
wrong and put it into this scenario:
-alcohol: check
-parent in the next room over: check
-at least one virgin scared to death of intimacy: check
-mismatching bedsheets: check
-at least one person with leg humping tendencies: check
-complete disregard for each other: check
-girl being forced to do all the work: check
Awesome. Ladies and gentlemen, the worst sex ever had. I
challenge anyone to tell me worse. Seriously it was so
terrible!
Oh, and you would think that after a night of genital torture I'd at least get a hug goodbye. No instead I got this:
"Yeah um, I have to do homework and then I have to walk to work so I
really don't have time to walk you to the bus stop so yeah you should
probably go"
I just say "oh", gave him the most evil "if you call me again, be sure
to do so with a steel cup on because my hatred for you and your loins
will emanate from your phone" look, opened the door, let myself out,
and walked. He called after me, but I didn't look back. I
just didn't want to think about it. I missed an interview with
the Orientation board and crepes at abbey-buckland for a night of the
worst sex of my life with a kid I hate more than modern south asian
history. That's saying a lot.
All in all, a summary of my night:
I lost the opportunity for crepes for bad sex. Goddamn.
And so I'm not really sure where to go with this xanga. I started
it with the intention of fucking ben, I fucked him, it was
terrible. Where do I go from here? He's still the same
asshole I met three years ago, but he's not even the good kind of
asshole. He's a little boy who's an asshole as a byproduct of
being an immature baby with complete disregard for anyone else's
feelings. Don't get me wrong, I love assholes, but I hate when
they can't figure out whether to love me or leave me.
Oh well. I've got hw to do and crepes to mourn over.
-Jill
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