A 20 year old Virgin looking for Love (In Jersey)

Friday, September 16, 2005

Soo Tired.

I just realized, that I will never be able to enjoy the college party scene. I just don't think I could compete with these beautiful women. One after the other more gorgeous than the next. All I've got to offer, that's any different from these women, is my insane personality. I'm not a knockout, but I've never had a dry spell where there were no men in site. There has always been a man there. Someone always there to tell me I am beautiful, and that I am the one they want.

I don't think I can stand being stupid enough to lie that heels will not hurt my feet when I wear them with a mini-skirt. I can't fake that wince for a smile. I could, but I just don't want to. I don't think I could ever make my thighs not touch as I walk. I don't have legs up to my chin, and therefore, in my mind, I don't deserve to wear skirts.

I just came back from a book signing in the city, for Terry Prachett. My old roomate's a huge fan, and I probably spelled the poor man's name wrong. Well, he's not poor. Just got back. How wild and crazy am I?

A group of European men, young men, approached her and I at Penn Station to ask where the parties were. I was stupid and blurted the truth. Hoboken. Somehow I wanted them to stay, if only to fulfill my fantasty of meeting the man of my dreams in the most crowded and unexpected of places. But with sweat collecting on my upper lip, and the giant zit smack dab in the middle of my forehead, anyone interested in me then, would either have to be drunk, or very desperate.

I think a lot about how others percieve me. Not because I honestly care like that, but you know, just to see what they think of you through their eyes. A new perspective on you. It's hard to pull yourself away from your ego enough to notice the different prisms of your "self."

I have less than a dollar in my bank account. I can't wait to start getting paid. I still dream about having a column, and writing a novel, and being married to the man of my dreams. For nowm I'll choose to live out my fantasies by pulling the ultimate egotisical move, and writing in this blog.

Feet hurt, and work tommorrow.

Monday, September 12, 2005

The Modern Question.

Has marriage become a luxury, instead of a necessity, that only few can afford?

Sunday, September 11, 2005

"Radio DJ"

You know what I just realized? Ugly and fat girls here on campus have a lot more fun then pretty girls. The more I hang out with the ones that look good, the more I'm conscious about their flaws and mine. With ugly girls, what you see is what you get, they wear their flaws on the outside. You get past that, I mean, you have to.

Because last nights "party?" was fun. A small group of people at the apartment building, surrounded by people everyone knew. Except the fact that this place is smack dab in the middle of "frat row." And the cops are always circiling around. "Radio Dj" guy walked me back to my dorm room, slightly stumbling, yammering a bit, but still coherant. The apartment is right off campus and wasn't far. I wonder if it was the alchohol that made him hug, then kiss me on my lips when he did drop me off at 2 am. I hadn't meant to stay long, just happened to be that fun was had, and I forgot the time. And now I am up at 8 am on a fucking Sunday, going to work.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

"the kissing-whore"

"the kissing-whore" activities have begun. or at least the dating around.

can you say ouch?

September 10-South Orange. Under intense pressure from society, and her heart, 20 year old Virgin falls into hopelessness waiting for" the one" to arrive.

I am now working at high end clothing boutique, and keep my eyes peeled for men interested in me. However, this is not likely to happen. For one, the store no longer carries the mens line. Also, it is rare that a good-looking single man is straight when meticicoulsly shopping for the perfect suit. If a man does come in, he comes in looking to buy something for his wife. who is probably frumpy, and fat, and will look stupid in it anyway.

I bounce around from feeling tiny and skinny, to feeling obese. Trying on couture clothes cut to fit size 0 models makes me want to starve myself, and put down my taco bell burrito. I felt so ugly at the sore. I tried hiding my raggedy nails, and felt dumpy wearing my sisters hand me down suit jacket. not to mention i have dark brown roots, and reddish orange hair. i just feel and look awful these days.

I also ignored "green eyes" today. I saw i had about a million phone calls from him. what he did yesterday still has me pissed off. i can't help but think, if i know these guys aren't the one, at least trusting my guts and not feeling a spark, why i bother? i just feel so lonely sometimes. after a long hard day of work, with my knees and feet killing me. i just wanted to come back to someone to rest my shoulder on, and have them say how strong and beautiful i was. or rich enough to take care of me just until i publish my novel. which isn't happening anytime in the near future.

i also wish gas wasn't so high, or insurance rates here in jersey so i could also dream to own my own car, instead of running for the train. i can't even stand looking at myself these days. part of the responsibilty for the first day is to try on the clothes to see how well they fit, so we can tell the customers about how it feels, and how to pair the stuff up. i had to stare at my fat ass, and big thighs the entire time. and how come i'm so god damned hairy? my legs, arms, stomach, and evertything. even when i do decide to have sex, i'll have to plan it a month in advance just so i can get a proper wax job. i can't wait till this paycheck comes in. i'll feel human again, and not a raggedy peice of squashed roadkill fur. no one will look at me the way i look. though plenty of guys are interested in me. why? no clue.

where are you? the man i'm mean to be with? my heart is just so tired. i cry as i think about how grueling it is going through the process of finding someone semi-compatible. i just want my heart to do all the deciding while my brain works away at things i need it to work for, like school. i just want to give up. i'm so hopeless, i can't even look up to meet peoples eyes. i just look at the floor, and flop around, timing myself to and from the train station, counting how many times i feel like screaming ouch after standing all day begging rich people to buy shit they don't really need.

at 214 am, i just kissed "radio dj" just a peck, he dropped me off at my dorm, but "green eyes" has been calling me all night.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

hey you there!

alright so i've grown distant from people these last couple of days because, well because. i'm not sure. i'm just bitter and angry about how smoothly everyone else is transitioning back to college and mine is full of all these bumps and obstacles. living day to day dollar to dollar financially has put me to wits end. one day i have a grand in the bank, and the next it has to go to paying for something or other. i'm convinced white people don't have these problems. at least my old roomate never seems to have any real problems. she doesn't even wear makeup. shes tall. shes blonde. shes smart. shes funny. her only problem is men. whereas the rest of us humans, that are not white people, have tons of problems.

for one, we never really feel american. we can wear the clothes, buy the car, listen to the music, and watch the movies. but a small part of us will always have to pay attention to the other part of us. so trying to balance both cultures has always created a strain on my mental stability. the other is having immigrant parents, it has always been difficult for them to maintain finances. neither had gone to college. and neither spoke english before moving here over 17 years ago. my mother is a homemaker. who is these days? people see it as cute. i saw it as a nuisance. she was always around! i remember the days when we had one phone, and it was in the kitchen. everytime the phone would ring, she would pick up. god forbid it was a boy. *gasp* anyway, point being, we never have enough money. the hardest days are when i see my parents stammering and searching the room for answers, when i come to them with bills.

but the worst day was when i saw my father cry. he's mr know-it-all fix-it-all strong genuis guy. everyone loves him. the ladies love him. the day i saw him cry, was the day things changed for me. i guess god has a way of humbling us all. if our financial problems are fixed, our life, my life, is pretty okay. if not perfect. but lifes not perfect, and we will always be on the brink of poverty. when i was little i got it into my head, that somehow, if i died, my parents life would be easier. with three other sisters, i felt i was a waste of space. i still feel that way. but my parents tell me otherwise. my parents found my journal (lesson learned, leave no physical evidence of your plots) and through broken english discovered hints of my hatching a devious plot to end my life. i was in the sixth grade. my father cried. i was the cause. it was the first time i had seen a grown man cry. growing up, in my culture my father is the disciplinarian and the financial provider, so, i had only ever gone to him if i wanted ice cream money, or when i deserved a beating. yes, i was beat. but i wholly believe in that cause. i turned out alright, didn't i? *twitch*

it has always been about my parents, and culture. never anything for me. i have to do this to make them proud, i have to make a name for myself because i want to make them proud. etc etc. there is no way out of this. i tried doing things for myself. i felt guilty afterwards. like majoring in journalism. what a shit choice i made. my parents wanted me to go into nursing. i should have listened, considering, there is no need for more journalists. who actually needs more gossip hawking, lying, digging mongers around? anyway, i worked as an assistant editor at a magazine this summer, and let me tell you, i am NOT ready for this thing that they call the real world. it was to say the least, thee most challenging position i have ever held in my life. not counting the kinds my trainer at the gym made me try. squats. ugh. i wince in pain from the memory. because now i'm fat. well. maybe just in my head. i feel fat cuz i'm short. and it's dangerous for short people to gain a few pounds because they risk being called "stout" just a nicer way of saying fatso. tall people. oh, how i hate them. *shakes fist*

and for all of these reasons, i've become irreversabily introverted. i'm snippity to the men that call, asking me where i am, and when they can take me out. all the wrong ones, of course. prince charming never comes a knocking on his fucking white horse and says, "hey stout lady, hop on my saddle, and i'll take you for a ride." no, its always the fuckups without jobs. the creepy kinds with weird deformaties. the ones that after the first meeting start talking about fate and destiny, and matching up our zodiacs. the kinds that are just so boring that i find myself smiling and nodding for no damned reason because i'm not listening to a word they are saying. i'm twenty, but i'm not looking to date anyone under 25. i loathe guys my age. they know nothing of class, taste and culture. give them beer pong, and video games and they are happy. i don't mind paying for the fucking date, but at least come presentable. but i think even that is way too much to ask. god forbid they shaved once in a while. anyway...i've gone on way to many tangents so far, so to close...

i've got a semi-already-might-have-the-job interview today at a big name designer boutique. they pay a lot, and its part time, just what i need because i go to school full time. i already have a work study job in school lined up as a ditzy counselor's personal assistant, but if i get this job, i can give the work study job to my sister. commuting is gonna be a bitch since its jersey and commutes suck on trains that are always behind schedule, overcrowded, and overpriced. especially when it starts snowing. ugh. and those plans for last minute weekend trips will no longer be happening. so there goes that. i also had to cut down on my credits, and now im down to 12, because i couldnt afford the standard 15. so, i'm thinking i'll be in this hellish school longer than i anticipated. oh well more time for me to avoid the real world. which is, essentially, what i'm trying to ward off.

Monday, September 05, 2005

the nuisance

everyone must have at least on of these in their life. "the nuisance" you've met him maybe once or twice. and he begins to think you are their new best friend. we shall call this guy "drama king" because he thinks he's gods gift to the acting world, when in fact he is nothing but a weirdo. everyone calls him the weirdo around campus. only he doesn't know it. they all point and laugh at him when he wears his funny hats. which he happens to have a lot of. and he has this swagger like those cowboys in old westerns. i don't call him a weirdo. I am one myself. people could quite possibly be pointing and laughing at me as i write this. i merely call him "drama king." (behind his back)

anyway, he thinks he's some big shit because the local paper wrote a semi-good review about him and the play he was in. all he does is IM me on instant messenger talking about himself. hey, listen asshole, shut the fuck up. leave me the hell alone. get someone else to listen to your egotistical blubbering. and the scary part is he now wants to hang out with me when school starts up. *shudders*

the last thing i need is another "friend interested in me." i don't want to help this along. i want to try to "nip this in the bud." I dont like the idea of stringing someone along. in fact, i'm sick of every guy i know. because none of them have any potential for becoming anything more. they are all creepy, weird, or stupid. and they are all attracted to me. why? i have no idea.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

big fish

Saturday, September 03, 2005

why are there some days when you feel an unexplainable amount of sadness. it hits you like a tidal wave, and keeps coming at you. one after anotherof course there is no one to talk to. there is no one around to listen to someones feelings of sadness. i know i don't want to hear it. on top of that, i feel lonely.


i'm sneaking a peek at dating websites. but i know deep down inside i'm an old fashioned romantic. i live for going out on my own to trains, buses and cabs, praying an accidental meeting with fate will show me the man i'm destined to be with. i know the men i see now are not the ones for me. they aren't enough for me. they give me that lack of feeling i know i'm capable of having. fire. that's it. fire. i kept looking back at this well groomed and semi handsome man on the train. he was short with dark hair, and had features that could place him as an south asian. i don't know why i looked. the romantic in me hoped he would return my gaze, and sparks would fly. but he didn't even look up when i walked up for my stop. i wished someone would take the time and just point to me and say "shes the one" without all the stalker elements attached.

more of the "Young Ed Bloom: Sandra Templeton, I love you and I WILL marry you. " element involved.

Young Ed Bloom: I just saw the woman I'm going to marry. I know it. But I lost her.
Amos Calloway: Oh, tough break. Well, most men have to get married *before* they lose their wives.
Young Ed Bloom: I'm gonna spend every day for the rest of my life looking for her. That, or die alone!

Young Ed Bloom: You don't know me, but my name's Edward Bloom... And I love you.

Senior Ed Bloom: They say, when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. What they don't tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up.

Senior Ed Bloom: Sometimes, the only way to catch and uncatchable woman is to offer her a wedding ring.