What have I done?

I went to Whole Foods today and saw the most gorgeous man ever. He was 2 persons ahead of me in line, and he was laughing and talking easily w.the cashier, who seemed to know him somewhat. As he signed his receipt, he smiled brilliantly and said(albeit affectedly) "Ciao." It was like a real Italian "Ciao" not a dirty American trying to look cool kind of "Ciao." Ciao.

So when I got to the front of the line, I asked the cashier, sheepishly: "Uh... that guy with the leather jacket... does he come here all the time?" She got this little glint in her eye and said he came in there at least twice a week. Then she said, "Do you want me to tell him you're interested? I can tell him next time he comes in." I stammered a little and blushed so hard, I felt like my head was getting ready to explode. I think I nodded.

Then I paid for my groceries and she called out my name, saying "You forgot to give me your number!" Still blushing, I wrote my number on the back of my receipt and gave it to her.

And now it occurs to me that: 1)I have done something so stupid, so desperate, so high-schoolish. What the fuck did I think was going to happen, that we'd have some type of meet-cute? He went there to shop for food, as normal people do, not to be harassed by some strange girl. I bet he's going to laugh about it with his friends when he gets my number. 2)If he's smart enough to turn the receipt over, he will see that I have purchased organic tampons, quinah, fat-free yogurt. Ugh, how humiliating.

I blame this on my lack of sex. Not having sex is making me act like some desperate banshee.

incoherence

Another thing that happens when you abstain from all forms of sex is that you start having spontaneous orgasms in your sleep. I think I had quite a few last night, and I woke up this morning feeling like I should feel bad about myself-- and surprise!-- there was no one else in my bed. This is like losing weight after binging on chocolate. What a crazy side effect from celibacy.

My rash has cleared. I bought some soap. I have smooth skin again.

I read a commentary online that had me saying, "I knew it!" at every five minute intervals. Basically, the gist of it was that the old saying mothers don't prefer one child over another-- that this is bullshit. Given that children have different personalities, different nuances of behavior-- it would be unnatural for mothers not to have a favorite child. Of course, no one talks about it because it's so un-PC. It reminds me of another theory I read in an obscure trade journal a few years ago, which said that the reason black people are such better athletes is because...(bear with me, this is rather offensive) back in the slavery days, they were "bred" like animals, that is, for maximum power output and form. The sickly ones died en route or faded to the sidelines. Very, totally un-PC, but it makes sense, if you think about it.

Growing up, my mother was so fucking mean to me, and oddly sycophantic to my brother. My brother really amounted to nothing, aside from a prodigious pot habit and a penchant for getting arrested for crimes most people get away with(petty theft, solicitation, that kind of thing). She's still mean to me, but it bothers me less than it used to, partly because now as an adult, I see her for the loser that she is. Slams are meaningless when it comes from a person for whom I have no respect. The last thing she said to me was that I should think about getting implants because no one will want me with such a "flat" chest. Hey, I'd rather be flat and thin than wobbly with udders, fat rolls protruding. Big boobs do not count if you're a fat ass. But who the fuck says that to their own kid? It's like a father saying to his son, "You have a tiny dick. Get a penis pump." Completely inappropriate and gauche.

So guess what? Your mother does have a favorite child. It might or might not be you. Who cares?

Elizabeth is avoiding me for some reason. I can't think of anything I've done to offend her. Maybe I've just become one of those people who are insufferable because they talk about their problems all the time.

Off to the gym. Let's see what looks of abject hatred I can round up from the women sporting muffin tops.

Luck

The world as we know it is about to end.

In an odd twist of fate that could only happen in movies(and in a life where I feel like I'm in a movie all the time), I won $500 on a scratch off ticket. !!!!!! Exactly $500. Not enough to go buck wild and have a shopping spree, but just enough to cover my ass for rent.

Crazy.

This must be the universe telling me to go strong w/my celibacy vow. Thank god I won't have to try to barter my body for a roof over my head anymore! Now I can just go back to starving in peace. I'm set until the end of April.

fuck.

I'm broke. I don't know how I'm going to pay next month's rent. I've maxed out 3 credit cards, and I applied for 1 more today, but I was DENIED. Big surprise.

Luckily, my roommate is a doughy, dateless dude who will probably accept 1 lay in exchange for the rent. He actually owns the condo we occupy, so my rent($500 a month) is really just peanuts to him. He basically told me in not so many words that I got the room because of my looks. The funny thing is, when I came to see the place, I was dressed in tattered jeans and a torn shirt, looking grubby and gross and spent, AND I also came w/my fuckbuddy(the 3 some dude). How he would immediately assess that I was hot, when I looked like that, is beyond me. But whatev. Many of a dire situation of mine has been saved by some desperate asshole. He's just one in a string of losers I find useful at times like this.

I really fucking hate being poor. I grew up poor. I thought I would be somewhere else by now. I can't believe I am 28 years old and barely getting by on a nominal stipend, not being able to buy basic toiletries and foregoing items most people would consider a necessity(e.g. hair conditioner). I don't have enough money to buy soap, so I've been washing myself with dishwashing liquid from the kitchen sink. Now I have dry patches all over my skin, my hair is falling out, and I nearly wept as I getting ready for bed. Seriously, it sucks. Why didn't I just fucking go to law school? I would have been rich by now. Fuckfuckfuck!

I don't mind going hungry. Hunger is good discipline. But when I don't have enough money to buy new shoes, and I have to wait for my friends to tire of their clothes so I can wear their castaways-- it just becomes ridiculous. What did I do to deserve this shit of a life, I have no idea.

When I was w/Ben, I was living like a queen and didn't have to worry about anything. And that's been my MO-- find a rich guy, move in, and let him take care of me. But even that game is getting old, and I really am wondering when and how I became such a loser in life.

FYI, my groinal/vaginal/thigh area is entirely chafed and red. Palmolive dishwashing liquid is not meant to be used in lieu of body wash.

I hope this rash thing goes away. I need it to go away.

So Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck, in all sense of the word. Ugh.

I wish I knew the seedy, enterprising individuals on that high-priced escort service Spitzer was busted for. Seriously, that would solve all of my problems right now. And I bet my racket could be, "Harvard grad student by day, sexy whore at night!" But men who frequent such services probably ARE around women affiliated w/Harvard. They're probably working w/them or married to them. They probably want to be around stupid bitches who think Obama is who we're looking for in Iraq. Fine, I can wing the bimbo bit, too. I'm good at that. Just fucking give me money! I need money.

Whoever said money doesn't solve anything is wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong a 1000 times. My life has been happiest when I'm surrounded by money or someone with access to money.

Every platitude ever uttered by mankind is wrong: money does buy happiness, the best things in life aren't free, and hard work does not fucking get you anywhere. Just single and broke at 28, that's where it takes you.

What will I do w/myself? And the day after that, and after that?

With my self-imposed celibacy, I have tons of time, so much time, now I can even update this little obscure blog o'mine.

Seriously, not having sex saves me so much hassle, mainly freeing me from rigorous grooming and feminine rituals. I don't have to tend to my pubic hair as often(because I shave every.day, sometimes even 2X a day) but this morning, I didn't and that saved me a whole 15 minutes, yay. And I also usually agonize over my lingerie choice for the day, but today, I'm wearing a sports bra and ratty RDO panties. RDO is Red Days Only, if you must know. And again, that saved me about 10 minutes this morning. All in all, I have gained about half an hour in my morning just by deciding not to fuck any gross dudes for a while.

Another relief is the lack of UTIs. I get them so chronically and it makes me so bitchy and uncomfortable. Oh, I can lay off the probiotics for a while.

Elizabeth assumed that I would be using sex toys to "take the edge off"(HER euphemism, not mine) and I don't know if I ever talked about this before, but I abhor vibrators. I've always found them to be so... mechanical and not at all sexy; it's so utilitarian that I might well use my Sonicare in there(I haven't). Plus the mere concept of... vibration is wholly unerotic. When was the last time anyone's dick ever vibrated? Yeah, exactly.

This no sex thing has also rendered me idle at nights as well. I mean, I never realized how much of my 6pm - 11pm hours were devoted to sex and its associates: the prelude to fucking(dinner & drinks), fucking, or the aftermath of fucking(talking, cuddling, suffering of UTIs). Geez, where the hell did I find the time? No wonder I was tired constantly.

So 29 more days to go. If this doesn't work, I can always eliminate carbs from my diet and see if that makes me feel better about myself(it probably won't).

An experiment

I'm going to be celibate for 30 days and see if that will improve my quality of life. I've been so damn miserable that anything, anything at all, would be welcome change.

And just when I decide to not have sex, my face cleared up last night and I look luminous. No one will enjoy it except for myself for the next month.

One saturday down

Ugh, of all the shameful things in the world... catching an STD from a gross old guy has to top them all.

Chlamydia is fairly easy to treat, and one dose of Antibiotics is all it takes. It's really the mildest form of STD you can catch, actually. I also got tested for everything else under the sun, and I'm all clear.

Last night, I had a date with this guy Jack, whom I really liked a long time ago, before I moved to Palo Alto. We were set up by my friend Elizabeth, and I stopped returning his calls only because I was dating two other guys at the same time and I was being a picky bitch. Anyway, we finally managed to plan to get together last night after weeks' worth of emails, and I was starting to get ready 2 hours before I was due to meet him when I noticed the BIGGEST ZIT IN THE WORLD right near my nose. I tried concealer, foundations of 3 shades, and I even bought some hemmeroid[sic] cream to try to make it less noticeable, but I simply could not disguise it at all. And yes, I'd rather preserve my vanity than see a guy I've been wanting to see for months, so 5 minutes before I was supposed to leave, I had to call and cancel on him. He got pissed off tacitly and pretty much told me to go fuck myself with "Ah, well, I guess I'll just see you around then." I told him I had a medical emergency(hey, clogging of the pores is serious) but he thought I was blowing him off.

Anyway, I told Elizabeth about it and she begged me to tell him. But which is less mortifying-- canceling for a stupid, trivial reason such as a pimple, or lying about said pimple and exaggerating it into a medical condition? Somehow, things always seem to go awry between the two of us.

So Mark and I are starting to talk again. We went to a local gay bar, he bought me a lot of shots, and I think he thinks all is forgiven. It's not, of course, because I collect my grudges like women collect shoes. I will not allow myself to be as vulnerable as I was before, and Mark can consider us closer than we really are, that's fine. We did end up going to a dive jazz bar, where doughy, dateless dudes came on to me like crazy. There was one man who was so stoned out of his mind that he tried to dry hump me and that was really disgusting.

And OMG, I live with the owner of the biggest penis in the world. Seriously, that thing is so huge that it must be anatomically uncomfortable. Of course, I know this because I fucked my roomate when I was depressed(as in, having another usual day) and I got to experience a fraction of the pain childbirth is supposed to bring. Seriously, that thing was a cariacature of a penis. Anyway, I told him I had chlamydia and he was like, "I don't care," so we had sex and it was ho-hum. I guess he's always relied on the fortitude of his girth and hasn't really developed, technically speaking.

My apologies for the spelling mistakes in this post. I got a new laptop and I'm having trouble typing...

I had an affair with a married man and all I got was this lousy case of chlamydia(that, and a cheapo bracelet that gave me a bad wrist rash).

Underpaid mistress

Lately, I've been seriously pissed off for many reasons, but the one that tops them all is so stupid that I'm almost embarrassed to write about it here.

Since I turned 28 in Dec, I've been obsessing over babies. Before my last birthday, kids were something I wanted theoretically, but practically-- I was undecided. I'm going to assume I'm just like everyone else and again, assume, that I will be miserable when I'm barren and old and I have not yet propagated my genes.

Mark, my best friend, is gay and a few years older than me (35, to be exact). I always joke about how I'd fall in love with him if only my ego would let me. He makes flirty, innocuous remarks too. That's our dynamic.

Anyway, about a week ago, I seriously asked him to give me some sperm if I'm still single by the time I'm 30, which is a little less than 2 years from now. I thought my asking was only proprietary, a nominal "May I?", given our deep friendship and closeness. So you can imagine how heartbroken I was when he demurred.

He wouldn't say why either, until I pressed and pressed, and finally, he said: "I think you would fuck up our kid irrevocably. And you have so many mental issues that I wouldn't feel comfortable bringing a child into such a toxic environment."

So basically, I'm fucked up enough to be entertaining and to go drinking with, but too much to have his babies.

I shouldn't be so pissed, but hey-- truth hurts. Mark is right. I know this, but this doesn't lessen my hostility towards what is presumably a difficult situation to resolve in less than 2 years. But always Mark and I would joke about getting married, shit like that-- and to be hit with his low opinion of me really hurt.

And of course, as with all things shitty, I have to find something else to distract me from the shittiness. I started an affair with a tenured professor in my dept. It's not my former advisor, it's this short, Jewish, balding dude whom I wouldn't look at twice, but his accomplishments have rendered him fuckable. He was just at the right place at the right time, basically. Nothing special. Just another ugly, brilliant Harvard professor who barely makes $80,000 a year, whose only claims to fame are articles in obscure trade journals.

It's incredible how amazed he is at the inane things guys my age would just shrug off-- he was very appreciative of my matching lingerie, my waxed ladyparts, my skin, which, according to him, is the "smoothest skin ever." He told me he loves the fact that I'm thin, but Jennifer L0pez is "thin" to him, because his wife is grossly obese. In other words, my hotness is wasted on a man with such low standards of attractiveness. He knows how to give good oral, though. And I haven't reciprocated once, because I didn't have to and I didn't want to.

So with my Plan B backfiring, and this stupid, sordid affair I'm having w/the short bald professor has eaten up quite a bit of my time. The sex is v. good, probably because he is so conscientious about pleasing me. I hate myself afterwards, though.

I'm giving this another week, because I don't know how long I can keep boning a bald, aging father of four who doesn't even have the money to buy me nice stuff(he bought me a barfy bracelet from...Walmart. I had to bite my lips to keep myself from laughing).

I don't know if Mark and I will ever resume our friendship. How can I be around someone who thinks so poorly of me? I have such few friends and losing Mark this way was the worst possible thing ever.

Still alive. Haven't quit blogging. Will update sometime before the week is over, I promise....