Deja vu

Back in Boston, trying to pick up the pieces that used to pass for my life. I've missed 2 weeks of classes and have no idea if you can or if you are even allowed to un-do the beginnings of a sabbatical. I will have one hell of a time trying to explain what the fuck I was doing to my adviser.

What the fuck WAS I doing?

My Stanford psychiatrist was a complete hack. He told me I had three DSM disorders, and recommended that I seek "in-patient therapy", as in, he wanted me to check in to an asylum! That sparked something innately fearful inside me, and I believed I was two steps away from being locked up in a bare white room with my hands tied behind my back. I was too close to it. Thank god I didn't get around to telling him how many times I wanted to kill myself and how I fantasize about dying every day. I was losing all semblance of control and I felt my life spiraling into something irrevocable. I had to get away.

That's neither here or there, though. My collection of illnesses-- academic psychiatrists have been pinning labels on me for years. The fact is, no matter what the fuck is wrong with me, I am able to lead a fairly normal life(from outside looking in), even though my inner thoughts torment me on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. I'm not homeless and I'm in fucking grad school! I'm like the Sylvia Plath of crazies, only I'm not married to a guy who will punch me in my mouth.

I have no idea what is wrong with me. All I know is that I subsist on 3 hours of sleep per night, I exercise 2 hours a day, and my thoughts race like crazy, from euphoria to suicide. That sounds like BPD, no? But then I have days like today when all I want to do is burn down entire buildings with myself in it. Yet I somehow managed to talk to my dept head and I even trekked to the Registrar to un-do the mess I have made. How do I function like this? How do I live like this?

Ben raised hell, of course, because he didn't want me to leave. But fuck him! I don't care about him. He should know that by now.

It's a good thing I never got acclimated to West Coast time. I got off my flight and ran 10 miles, and walked to the Registrar in flip-flops. My toes were numb but I didn't give a shit, because all I wanted to do was make sure I could still be classified as full-time this term. I left all my shit at Mark's apt, and he's graciously letting me crash on his couch until I can find the next sucker from which to mooch.

I'm still not even tired. Anger and disappointment in where you are at life will keep you up.

My sense of time is now, not-now. Not-now is looking darker and becomes increasingly out of my reach. Now is excruciating, every second ticking slower and faster inside my head. I'm all wound up.

$23,000

Here's what I'm worth to Ben: $23,000.

I had so much fun today going to Tiffany and getting my ass kissed by all the snooty salespeople. They wanted to "teach" me about the clarity, the color, and "what makes a Lucida ring so special." I drank champagne as they asked me questions about Ben, and they showed me earrings, other necklaces, and I even got to try on a bracelet that was loaned to Nicole Kidman recently! The day in itself was worth $23,000. Is this what kept women go through every day, until they hit 35 and get all wrinkly and gross? It's addicting, this feeling of being admired and envied.

I could definitely see myself becoming a trophy wife. It's fun.

OK, gotta go. Ben's taking me out for sushi and we'll probably have some thank-you sex afterwards. I think this ring calls for that 3some he's been talking about forever.

I really cherish these morning hours that I have to myself, when Ben is at his office and I am alone in the whole house to do whatever I want. You have no idea how draining it is to have someone in your face at all hours.

I carved the time out alone because living w/Ben, I don't get a chance to even take a shit alone, ever(yeah, he insists on using the Master bathroom even though there are three over the house). He didn't have an office until yesterday, so every.single.day. we would be together from the time we awoke to the time we'd sleep. It was kind of a nightmare.

I imagine this is what marriage is-- tolerable imprisonment. Only it's not so tolerable in my case.

I get up at 3 am to go for a run, and I come back around 4, exhausted and sweaty. I get in bed without taking a shower(partly to keep Ben off of me, partly because I'm tired) and I sleep until about 8 am, when I know he's gone. Then I have about seven hours to do whatever I want, with whomever I want.

I have an appt w/my psychiatrist on Thurs. I told Ben what he said, about me being possibly bipolar, and he was like, "Is that hereditary?" I think he was concerned I would pass it on to our unborn child, who exists in his mind(but not in mine!). It's kind of sad, the way he's going about planning our future, when I'm not even sure if I want to live w/him, let alone breed w/him!

Oh, and did I tell you about having to CONVERT? Yes, I have to become Jewish to get married in his home synagogue. It takes a long time and he told me I should get started now. I don't mind the studying, so I guess I don't mind becoming Jewish. That part doesn't bother me. But Ben? I don't know.

Part of the reason I'm so lukewarm about this is because I have to see Stephen soon. Stephen was the one love of my life, for whom I essentially turned my life upside down. I quit my job in NY to be w/him, to go to BALTIMORE, of all places, and that didn't pan out, obviously. He tried to commit me to a hospital because I was suicidal(but I forgave him for that! Bygones!) and I was hell-bent on destroying his life for a while, but he's somehow back and I want to see if I still feel the same ardor that fucked me over so many times before. He's based in NY but he makes a lot of business trips to LA and SF, and he said he would fly out here this week to see me.

Ok, time for me to hit the gym. I can't get flabby. Also, I'm getting new glasses today.

turning point

Well, I'm probably about 20 yrs too late, but the unthinkable happened-- I got myself a shrink. A real good one. He's one of the heads of psychiatry at Stfd, and I really like him. He doesn't dispense bumper-sticker advice but gives it to me straight, which is exactly what I need right now. I need someone to be blunt and somber with me.

He thinks I may be bipolar or manic, but the diagnosis is still pending. I'll have to take some more tests next week.

He said something to me that was practically earth-shattering:

"You realize that the way you're conducting your life is completely at odds with how others conduct their lives? You're deliberately hurting yourself so you can feel relatively better when someone else rescues you. But this the high feels so high because the low is so low."

me: "Why are my lows so low, then?"

him: "Ask yourself. You're the one who's doing the sinking."

The highs are high because the lows are low. How true.

Then I asked him if he was going to make me go home and do something stupid, like list 10 things I like about myself.

"Who do I look like, Dr Phil? The last thing I'll do is waste your time. Your case is much more serious."

I laughed and I respected him after he said that. I think this might be a turning point for me.

Also, I have a huge crush on him. And as you know, that is my euphemism for "I want to fuck his brains out."

Finally

Well, he did it. Ben proposed last night. The ring is Tiffany Lucida, though I have no idea what the cut or clarity is(because I didn't ask, for fear of appearing greedy, ha!). I have to go take it to the jeweler to 1)make sure it's real 2)to have it appraised in case I have to sell it.

The proposal wasn't esp romantic or creative-- it was just straightforward, matter-of-fact. "Do you want to marry me?" I didn't technically say yes, I said nothing, and just took the ring out of the box and put it on my finger myself. It fit.

I felt obligated to do something special to commemorate the occasion, so I gave him some anal sex. It seemed to work.

What's hilarious is that I had a dream last night that I was stuck in jail, waiting for someone to bail me out. How apropos is that? My sense of humor doesn't fail me, even in my dreams!

I don't know that much about jewelry, mostly because no one's ever really given me any before. But this ring feels heavy and real, so I'm guessing it's worth at least $1000. Maybe more if it is really from Tiffany, which I'm assuming it is.

I told my parents about it, and they were overjoyed. My mom said, "So when is he flying us out to San Francisco to meet him?" Ha! First of all, if Ben ever caught one glimpse of my mother, he would rip the ring right off my finger and run for the hills. She has not aged well, and visual proof of that will absoultely repulse/repel him. I will not let him see her until the wedding. And who knows when that will be?

They shouldn't get too excited, though. Ben's family have an extensive prenup, and he said it's "around 30 or so pages" worth of documents I have to sign. I have to hire a lawyer so I can make sure I'm not being ripped off(although it's not my money, so technically, it's more like me ripping him off). Mark is a political attorney, but I guess he could refer me to someone. Anyway, I'm getting it throughly examined before I sign my name to anything.

I'm engaged! Someone wants me! This should boost my mood for the rest of the week, at least.

Dead end

I wish Ben would have some degree of consistency. I hate that when we get along, we are almost the same person. But when we fight, I want to die. He makes me feel like a scumbag loser who can't do anything right, as if I will never find anyone else better or even remotely on his level. Which is laughable, because since we broke up and got back together, I have been w/ 7 men(+ 2 women), and he has been with... uh, Edwina. I won.

I try to talk to him honestly about my feelings about this relationship, but somewhere along the line, it becomes a matter of one-upping him, of who can tolerate this insanity for the longest time and come out unscathed. I have this stupidly competitive streak and it manifests itself in the strangest places. Or am I just using that as an excuse? Doesn't matter, because this relationship w/Ben is toxic.

I'm getting older. I want to get married before I turn 30. That's less than two years from now. Why am I wasting my time w/Ben, someone I know I don't want to be the father of my kids. It's one thing to fuck up my life but I refuse to fuck up my offspring's. This vicious cycle of misery ends w/me. I will not propagate it onto future generations.

This is crass, but one of the main reasons I find myself going back to him is because of his money. Ben comes from an uber-rich family, on a level with private planes, a half dozen vacation homes, and maids and security detail. He doesn't lead a glamorous life because he considers himself an intelectual, but he has incredible access to so many resources and a lot of connected people. I hate myself for being drawn to him for materialistic reasons.

I could probably get him to marry me. We'd stay miserable for a few years, and I'd come out with a handsome alimony settlement, maybe. Well, probably not, because he would probably make me sign a prenup, but those things are written to be overturned, haha. But seriously, I could probably marry him and stay on this happy/suicidal cycle for a few years, and end up better than I started.

Because let's face it; I'm not going to make shit as a professor. Maybe I could if my degree was in the sciences, but liberal arts professors are barely making enough to get by, clothe and feed themselves. And I want more than that. I want to live comfortably, w.o. worrying about returning a $500 dress after I wear it w/the tags still attached. I want to look good, live well, and lead an enviable life. In the end, my parents were right: I am wasting my time getting this stupid PhD, even if it is at Hvd.

So what can I do, that will enable me to support myself liberally, to be respected, to be admired, to be happy? Too old/short to be a model. Can't sing, so rock star is out of the question. Can't draw, so artist is out. I should have gone into finance, because hedge funds--that's where it's at. But I'm too inexperienced and business/accounting/finance shit bores me. So my next option is finding someone who's in hedge funds, someone who wants an overeducated trophy wife.

God, this is depressing. I have no idea where my life is heading. I feel like I have no options, and I keep thinking about suicide again. I promised myself I wouldn't after my brother died, but I can't help it. I think I just want to die.

No idea why it keeps saying "Accounting" for my industry in my profile. I don't do accounting, unless I'm accounting Calories or fuckbuddies. Actually, more former than latter.

OMFG, I saw the hottest guy I've ever seen in my life at the gym today. Physical perfection exists. I'm going again exactly one week from now at the exact same time. Maybe I'll gather enough balls to talk to him this time(I can be stupidly shy around men that have no discernible physical flaws).

West coast update

Quick update although all of our stuff is still in boxes and we are eating from used paper plates(ran out this morning as we ate leftover pizza).

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, fucking LOOOOOOVE CA! I can't believe it didn't occur to me to come live here sooner. Weather? Love it. Beautiful(ok, well, more attractive than Boston, at least)people? Love it. Food? Love it. I have been eating In N Out burgers for the past two days and I'm still not sick of it! And I used exclamation marks, so you know I mean it.

The thing w/Ben, on the other hand, may fall apart soon. Every time I forget why we broke up(he's an incorrigible asshole, and when he gets cranky, he is a mean and bossy asshole, incorrigibly), he reminds me. He didn't want me to get a job here because he doesn't want me to "go out all the time." As in, he doesn't want me to meet new people! Uh, controlling much? And I still can't get used to the time change, so I end up wanting to go for a run at 2 am, and he literally screams at me: "GET BACK IN BED!" We are subletting from a Stanfd professor and it comes furnished, but the bed is inexplicably uncomfortable and I can't seem to stay asleep.

So I've decided I'm going to find my own place here. Thanks to Ben, I am in CA, otherwise I would have never left Boston... but I cannot stand living w/him. Last night, we were hate-fucking and he took it too far. He started getting v. personal, calling me "trash" and all sorts of things that are completely off-limits, even during the midst of hate-sex. Call me a bitch, a whore, whatever, but don't get fucking personal! I made him get off me and I went out for a run at 3 am, even though Ben freaked out and said it wasn't safe for me to go out alone. Well, if I got kidnapped and away from him for a while, that would actually be an improvement.

Ben and I just aren't compatible. Why? Because we have too much pride(his may actually exceed mine) and are stubborn as hell. He is constantly on my case, and when we're not fighting or screaming or fucking, there's only complete boredom enveloping us. As in, we can't just shut up and do couple-y things, as disgusting as they are. It's like, we both hate each other so much that we can't stand it, but we don't want anyone else to have us either. I can't explain why I just don't fucking end it once and for all w/him. I keep thinking maybe something will change. What a laughable delusion I had going there.

But the hate-fucking is pretty hot. I realized that's what makes our sex life so good. I've never hated someone more while they mounted me. It's sick, the way I let someone I detest fuck and use me, but there goes my low self-esteem again, working its magic!

I'm glad I'm here, though. I may never go back to Boston.

Where are you going, and where have you been?

Oh, GOD. Ben* is sucking me in w/the curse of the lazy bastard once again. I did not get up this morning in time to exercise, and we had breakfast at... McDonald's, of all places(the breakfast burrito thing was not bad! the coffee was pretty solid, also). I am slowly but surely on my way to become a fat-ass slob. Why is it that when I become happy and somewhat stable, I am ok with being gross?

We had the best sex we've ever had last night. He always manages to surprise me in some new way, even though we've probably fucked like 2000 times already. He also brought up the idea of a 3some, and I am not opposed to it. OMG, this must be love.

Oh, we're picking up a puppy from a breeder we found on the internet when we get to Palo Alto. She weighs 2.12 lbs and is a Yorkie. Can't believe we're really doing this-- the dog, the move, the domesticating. I have officially become boring... unless I find some way to screw it up!

*Yes, the pejorative "loser ex" label has to be retired for now, for my own pride's sake

Finally

OK, it's official. I'm moving to Palo Alto. We leave in 2 days.

This is either the dumbest or smartest move I'll ever make. Also, I tried delaying my departure for another week since Winner Ex will be in town soon, and I want to see him so badly. But it would be even more fun to make him fly 2000 miles to see me! So it might all work out in the end.

Need to pack! I'm also breaking my verbal lease and screwing my housemates over by leaving so suddenly, but that's what they get for not making me sign a contract. You know that saying about trusting people? For chumps only. Trust no one!

And I have a feeling loser ex is planning to propose soon. How do I know this? I was just at his apt earlier and I checked the browser history, and what should come up but sites for wedding rings-- Tiffany, Cartier, and a site called "Design your own Wedding Ring"? I don't think dudes browse wedding rings for fun. It's hilarious that he thinks I'd ever marry him, but I might have to hear his proposal just for the hell of it. I might say yes if the ring is fabulous, just so I can wear it before I leave him for someone better, of course.

I'll have to make sure I don't get pregnant. The last thing I need is to have something of his growing in my uterus.

Oh, BARF

Couples' blogs make me vom. Unless it's rated XXX, in the manner of techer's tits and biker's balls. Same thing w/ couples' email accounts: eww, ewww, ewwww.

Also, I should not know your nicknames for each other(unless they are dirty). Actually, Elizabeth's ex-bf from college was known amongst our group as "Sir Limp-a-lot." I laughed like hell when someone tagged his photos as such on a mutual friend's Fbook.

I'm getting ready for a dinner date w/loser ex, and I'm thinking of what a great life I have. In a position to choose from three men. At the best academic institution in the world. 98 lbs. Good friends who are clever and good-looking. How'd I get here? I'm afraid it'll be taken from me at any moment. I'll just try to enjoy my night and try not to look like such a smug asshole all the time(just on the inside). I'm almost afraid to say this, but I think I am close to the state of happiness.

Two out of rotation

Trainer boy is working at Equinox now. I really didn't want him to work there, because the women are v attractive(considering it's Boston) and superficial, so I know he'll get hit on a lot. The attire there is practically a bikini top and spandex Daisy Dukes, complete w/camel toe(gross, I know, but men like trainer-boy find this appealing). We're cooling down anyway, so I guess it doesn't really matter. He's been more busy and doesn't call me 2X a day like he used to. That's fine. I've become indifferent.

I had lunch w/Elizabeth(iced tea for me, chicken salad for her) today and she said she was "disappointed" that things didn't work out betw Jack and I. That's news to me! That we didn't "work out," that is. I saw him 2wks ago and I thought everything was fine betw us. Of course, I haven't returned his calls or emails, but I was planning to get around to it, eventually. I guess we're over by default. I could probably get him back again w/one txt msg, but I'm not feeling up to it. He's not the complete pussy that I thought he was. Huh!

The thing w/dating multiple men is that it eats up too much time. I don't have enough time to bludgeon my body into perfect form, do my work, AND manage to keep something going w/4 different dudes. It's not that much fun after the 1st week, and it just becomes hectic going forward. The first week is all ego, all the time(Wow! I'm hot enough to date 4 guys and I'm not even fucking any of them!) but once that's over, it's practically a full time job. Sometimes I'd tell the same joke to the same dude, and I'd only get a quizzical look in return, as in, "Geez, you're dumb. All those drugs and alcohol must have shot your memory." Uh. Haha.

Lately, I've been contemplating getting back together w/loser ex(I will have to come up w/a new name if we do become a couple again). I could use the break away from Hvd, and I'd love to live in Palo Alto for a semester... And I could do worse than gain some stability in my life, right? I've always wanted to live in the West for a while, and if I go to CA w/loser ex, I won't have to worry about housing and the incidentals. I'm sure there will be a price to be paid somewhere, somehow... but the idea of living in CA, away from Boston, is so appealing to me right now.

Of course, I'd have to find something to do for a semester. I already talked to the Kaplan people, and I can transfer to a branch in Palo Alto. That will bring in some money, at least. I could write more, and finally get a manuscript together. That will probably not bring in any money, but at least I'll have finally done what I've wanted to do since I was 19.

And maybe I could get another dog! I had a dog once, but I had to give him away when I moved. Please don't vom, but loser ex said he would be open to the idea of raising a dog together if we both moved to Palo Alto. He said: "It'll be good practice, for when we have kids." Yeah, right. I do not trust loser ex's sperm to give me non-mutant babies. My ovaries would hate me forever and then some, if I ever propagated his genes. It grosses me out sometimes when he makes presumptuous statements like that.

I ran 9 miles today, and I nearly had a heart attack when I was getting off the treadmill. I sort of fainted(ok, I did) and a bunch of people rushed to my aid, and I woke up a minute later, all sweaty and embarrassed. I couldn't tell anyone that I'm starving myself and am possessed by the exercising demon because I'm getting ready to seduce someone, so I just said I was dehydrated and people seemed to accept that. Someone bought me a smoothie and I took a sip for the audience, and threw away the rest when the crowd dissipated(do you KNOW what all those refined carbs will do to my waistline? Only assholes drink smoothies after they work out).

I WILL pound out 10 miles tomorrow, though. I'll have to do it when there aren't a lot of people around at the gym, in case I pass out again. Stupid people who are concerned about others! They annoy me.

Running free, since I don't have to watch myself anymore

Haha, I just replied to 2 W4W ads on Casual Encounters(CL). God, I'm kinda gross, aren't I? But dykey bars are v. scary to me, and most of the lesbians who go there are the masculine women who look like men(which also scares me).

So now I'm faced with a problem of how to meet beautiful, nonpsycho women(this is the perennial question pondered by pasty, mediocre hetero boys all over). So... how? The ones I've met so far have happened organically, when I wasn't actively looking. Now that I'm actively looking, of course it eludes me.

I could call Jen over. Nah, no amt of ass is worth that agony.

Lately, my sex drive has soared like crazy. I just can't get enough. And it's not nice, cuddly sex I crave, either. I want wild, carnal, dirty, nasty sex. I have two more years before I turn 30 and I want to use that up sexing, goddamnit! My sexual appetite has been absolutely insatiable. And I know I'm a hardbody, and I'm certainly not a buttaface. I want to be used.

Tired. Going to bed now.

Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck. Fuck.

OMFG. How could I have been so stupid? I cannot believe I turned down that residence in the colony. Everyone in my dept has been telling me how incredible it would look on my CV even after I graduate. One guy was like, "You must have something amazing lined up to turn that down."

Well, I don't.

The reason I turned it down was because they wanted me. That quote by Groucho Marx rings so true, about not wanting to be a member of any club that will accept me. My ego just took over(or was it my poor self-esteem? They go hand in hand) and I declined immediately. Not particularly graciously, I might add. (I screwed and fucked myself over on that one.) What the hell was I thinking? I have no idea.

Of course, I called them today and told them my "circumstances" have changed, but they already gave the spot to another writer. !!!! FUCK!!! I'm so pissed off at myself.

It's not enough to have a doctorate anymore. To get on the faculty tenure track, you have to have a seriously padded CV. I do not want to end up teaching at a JC somewhere in the middle of Mississippi, but that is where I might end up. Worst nightmare. Then I'll just be another schmuck with a liberal arts doctorate bound for obscurity. Oh God.

Crap. I have to stop dicking around with boys so much and concentrate more on school. Mediocrity will be my punishment if I don't stop.

Winner ex

From my inbox:

'Hiya. So I'm going to be in town next week for business. Would you make Boston a little less torturous by having lunch with me? Or are you still anorexing these days?'

This is from an ex that still turns me into mush(read: lovesick puppy). Executive at a Fortune 500 Comp. Hvd/Sloan grad. Wears a pompadour and pulls it off well. Winner ex has been driving me crazy since 2001 (This is not the 3some dude.)

I wrote back:
'Silly you. Anorexing is so 2002. Of course I'm eating. Whether I'd do it w/you is another question, though. How is your wife? Heard you sired a kid.'

Reply:
'We're separated. No comments, please. Haven't spawned yet, thank God. Can't wait to see you though!'

Me:
'Can't say I'm surprised. You do have Alimony Pony written all over your forehead. Tsk. I'll let you know abt lnch next wk.'

Of course I'm going to see him. I'm going to run 10 miles a day and eat nothing until D-Day, duh!

(Note: He was not married when we were together, in case you were wondering.)

And yes, it does make it look like I don't care when I use abbreviations. It's laboriously casual.

Update:
My last reply to winner ex, re. his wife- "Abt time for a trade-in, anyhow. Make sure you wrap it before you tap it though-- the last thing you need is the annoyance of child support!"

Obviously I do not believe in reciprocity

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I'm outta here

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I CANNOT wait to go back to Boston tomorrow! Nothing like staying at a shithole city for a few days to make you appreciate the benefits of living in Cambridge. The only bad thing about Camb is when the dirty townies hit on you(ewwww). Good Will Hunting would never happen IRL, mostly because the townies are derided and roundly ridiculed by the students. Ironic that Matt Damon was playing a townie when he dropped out of Hvd. Even the male students are snobby before horny.

My parents dragged me to the worst offending chain restaurant ever(gag)--Chili's. Everything was beige and fried, and I absolutely refuse to eat beige and fried food. I had a limp lettuce salad with some sad, wrinkly tomatoes tossed in, and I swear, sitting in that restaurant, with both of my parents stuffing their faces with junk food-- was one of the most pathetic sights ever. Of course, they washed it all down with Diet Coke, so they felt justified in ordering three desserts between the two of them. It was pure, undiluted gluttony assisted by stupidity and ignorance. HOW am I related to these cretins?

I do judge people based on their diets. Then I judge their wardrobe, personal grooming habits, taste in books/film, and basic overall presentation. Harshly. Then I go home and do the same shit to myself, so it comes full circle, I guess. And usually, my peers and acquaintances are well-educated, well-groomed, well-traveled, well-read individuals. I'm pretty genial around my friends. But in a place like Tampa, I feel disgusted always by the low level of accomplishment and general loserdom in which these people wallow. Eating like crap, living like crap-- I cannot comprehend how these people live like this. It's times like these when I have to acknowledge that certain people's lives are inherently more valuable than others, especially in an egalitarian society like America(where everyone has access to opportunities).

I sound hostile and elitist... but you probably knew not to read this for political correctness, anyway. (If you didn't, now you know.)

I should go to bed. I'm sleeping on a CraftMatic(one of those old-people beds that folds up) and I was thinking how useful this bed could be during involved sexual positions. Someone at the marketing dept should remarket this bed to the young and hip, with a sexy advert. Definitely has potential. It's being wasted here, though, because according to my mother, my parents have not had sexual relations in over 20 years. God, how I wish I was not privy to that kind of information.

I will do the following, in order, when I arrive at Boston tomorrow am:
1. Hit the gym, session w/trainer boy(6 mile run + free weights and lunges/squats)
2. get a haircut
3. go grocery shopping(coffee, water, lemons, yogurt, eggs)
4. have sex
5. eat dinner w/loser ex(steak for him, iced tea for me)
6. have sex(this is not redundant)

Cliche

With nothing to do but e-stalk cute guys, have just found my crush's profile on an online dating site called "plentyoffish.com" and it's entirely off-putting. He lists "lying lazily in each other's arms" as a favorite activity to do on a Sunday. Good going on the alliteration, bro, but jesus, spare me the cheese! He wants someone with a "crazy sense of humor" and a "partner in crime in which to explore." Ugh, how provincial. Now I'm glad nothing happened between us, as unlikely as it were. I remember losing sleep over him, I remember running after him, and now, I find out he is nothing but a giant cliche.

Tampa is a fascinating study in sociology. Discovered this morning a coffee shop that was also a tanning salon-- that's ergonomics(and just a little gross). My parents were getting on my nerves so I bought them two tickets to a "cruise" around the Bay to keep them occupied and out of my face for an entire day. It cost me $220 and I would have gladly paid triple that amount.

Saw "Waitress" last night and liked it, very charming movie. Got hit on at Blockbuster by two men older than my father. One of them told me I had nice eyes, and I said(just to fuck with them a little): "What about my tits?" They were both taken aback and started stammering and one of them, quite dignified, said I had a "very attractive figure." It would have been hilarious to hear these old losers spewing some filthy stuff about how much they wanted to ravage me, but I guess my boldness put them in their place.

OMG, I need to get out of here before I catch some arthritic strain of STD. Boredom is danger.

Forget the bikini

I guess Tampa is tropical compared to Boston, but it's still freakin' cold. Saw a guy wearing earmuffs as he was hailing a cab outside of the airport.

I can't believe my parents moved to this shithole of a city. The place they were in before(TN) is not much better than here. Why would you go through all the hassle of moving, just to move from one shithole to another? Doesn't make sense to me at all. They are practically destitute but are "retired"(read: too lazy to get real jobs) so they tell me daily to hook a rich man so I can pull a big ol' Anna Nicole. I'm their meal ticket, basically.

They're always complaining about how broke they are, but they spend their money on the stupidest shit, shit they don't even need. For instance, my father, who parks his ass on the LazyBoy all day watching TV, bought himself a $300 SMOKING ROBE, in the manner of Hugh Hefner. !!! That is both gross and wasteful. "I didn't get anything good for Xmas so I had to buy something for myself," is his excuse. Such moronic behavior is typical, coming from them. My mother spent $3000 getting.... liposculpting in December. That's liposculpting, not lipoSUCTION. As in, she spent her money getting massaged and being injected with "fat-burning vitamins." If she was morbidly obese, I would be more sympathetic, but she is just flabby enough to be unattractive but not so much that her health or mobility is in any way compromised. She could have just stopped eating junk food and gotten off her ass to exercise. Or I could have wired her jaw shut(for free!!) and that would have eventually achieved the same effect. But still she talks about how she wants to go in for another "treatment."

Do you see why I have poor self-esteem? It's because I hate my parents, the very genetic components of myself. How could anything decent and noble sprout from these two losers' loins? It's self-hatred by syllogism.

I'm just here for another day but even a minute spent in their presence is excruciating. And Tampa sucks so hard, I wonder why they didn't just name it Tampax. I thought TN was redneck central, but Tampa is even worse-- these rednecks are affected rednecks, rednecks who do shit like wear Juicy tracksuits(uh... they're about 3 years behind on the trend).

Thank God I have my phone and computer w/me. Would die, die, die w/o anything to do here.

The Coward's Litmus Test to Determine whether, in fact, you are dating

Put the moves on him when you're "drunk" and feign clarity or embarrassment the day after, depending on his reaction. Works best if you have an actual history of humping strange boys when you're about 2 bottles of wine in. This is how my last not-sure-if-he's-my-boyfriend transitioned into yes-he-is-boyfriend.

Turned down the residence in colony today. Guess I don't hate it here that much after all.

Leaving for Tampa in a few hours. Hope I don't come back smelling like the olds(i.e. Ben Gay, vitamins, urine).

No use to me if you're sick

What IS it about Colgate that breeds such douchery? If anyone has any idea, please let me know.

Kicked trainer-boy out of my apt 20 minutes after he came over. He brought over KFC for dinner, which is neither tasty nor sexy. Who the hell brings over a bucket of chicken to a girl's place? Doesn't really matter because I'm anorexing right now and wouldn't have eaten it anyway, but what if I wanted to eat? Loser.

He tried to talk to me while I was trying to watch GG, which annoyed me. During one of the commercial breaks, he mentioned that he was going to Syracuse this weekend, and did I want to come? OK, who the hell goes to Syracuse, of all places, to hang out? That place is so industrial and unless you're into strip malls, factories, and drunken townies, it sucks.

Well, it turns out he is going back to "visit" his alma mater... Colgate. Yuck. I didn't even know he had even gone to college. I kind of got off on the mistaken fact that I was dating a hot trainer who was probably a high school drop out(the whole upstairs, downstairs thing)! Can't tell you how much of a let down it is that he is just that stupid and he is actually college educated, albeit at Colgate.

I know I have a lot of schools on my hate list, but Colgate probably tops them all. That school is so faux-preppy and psuedo-intellectual. And how creepy is it that all the people who went there STILL hang out with only each other, even like 5 years after graduation? V. creepy.

I think he hooked me when he made these suggestive, grunting noises during our training sessions and borderline offensive/crude remarks about my body when I would lunge and squat. I would meet him always at 6am, and gym attendance was usually scant at that time. We'd flirt furiously and all the pheromones in the sweat probably didn't hurt, either. I also overheard a few women talking about how hot he was and that made me decide I wanted to date him. He also told me that he used to be an Abercrombie catalogue model(which is probably a lie) but at least he looks like one, so that makes it a forgivable lie. Believable lies are forgivable lies in my book.

He's such a whiny little bitch, though. When I canceled our first date last minute, he made a big deal about it and formally "resigned" his position as my trainer and reassigned me to someone else because he didn't want me to "feel uncomfortable." Then it took a week's worth of drinking and texting(on his part) and finally we had one dinner date with some above-the-waist action afterward. Tonight was supposed to be the below the waist part.

So anyway, he said he was getting over the flu but he still wanted to have sex with me. Yeah, right! (I'm a huge germaphobe) I told him I had my period cramps(I don't) and kicked him out, and he left with a drumstick in his hand. 10 mins later, I got a call from a friend and we went to go see I am Legend. Movie was awful, but company was not.

Friend asked me if I was blogging anymore, and I fibbed and told him no. He thinks I'm dignified and that will all go down the drain if he ever catches a glimpse of all this. I'd like to keep his misperception afloat.

Oh! Going to FL tomorrow. Can't WAIT to rock my new La Perla bikini, though no idea how since it's 40 deg. there. Unfortunately, it's not the sexy part of FL(i.e. Miami)-- I'm going to Tampa.

Diets that work

The REAL Southbeach Diet: an 8ball of coke, followed by a cigarette. Repeat for a few days and guaranteed to make you lose your muffin top

The Mini-thin Hangover Diet(what I'm on now): As many mini-thins as you can take, + coffee and a lingering hangover. Sight of food will repulse you so you totes take off at least a stone

The Anorexing(my fav): All the water you can drink. Chew on your pen if you get hungry

The Substitution Diet: Substitute intercourse for food. Obvs you got to get on top. BJs should not included, because semen has abou 10 Calories per gram

The Binge-orexing: Hurl the most sugary, fatty, calorie-laden food you can find into your face(or whatever's not nailed down to your kitchen table), consequently feel guilty. Spend rest of the day anorexing.

I don't advocate bulimia because that's for messy chicks and it erodes your teeth (bulimic girls are always chubs anyway).

When will my stupid headache go away?? I keep scowling in pain and I don't want to get wrinkles. That will depreciate my future trophy-wife looks.

Oh, and got an email from one of the colony directors; a spot is mine if I want it. Since it's not so out of reach anymore, it doesn't appeal to me as much. Why didn't you play a little hard to get, colony? I would have wanted you more.

Trainer-boy is coming over to my place to watch Gossip Girl w/me. I hope he doesn't think this is code for "let's have sex and pretend to watch TV," because I do not enjoy being bothered while my GG is on. He is bringing dinner as the contents of my fridge consist of alcohol and nail polish.

Still hungover

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I need an Excel spreadsheet

So I'm "seeing" a total of 4 men, currently(but sleeping with none). I like them enough to spend time doing things I'd be doing anyway(e.g. eating, running, watching movies) but I dislike them individually for different reasons. Normally I don't advocate dating so many men simultaneously, but I vacillate from celibacy to triple bookings, and that's just part of my all-or-nothing nature.

Guy#1: Met on a blind date, set up by a good friend. Spent $500 bucks on me for Xmas after we slept together on the 1st date. Got turned off at his eager/desperation, stopped returning his calls for a while, until friend practically made me see him again. Smells weird, like baby powder.

Guy#2: Met at the gym(he was my trainer). Hot as hell, but dumb as a Special Ed student. Tried not to hold his job against him, but his daily proximity to people's sweat is just unsavory. Out of the 4, I'd probably screw him first.

Guy#3: Ex I can't shake. He kinda sucks but he's rich. Cheated on him, left him, and slept with his nemesis, and he STILL wants me. Loser.

Guy#4: Friend who has confessed he wants to "take things to the next level"(his words). Uh... probably not. Sweet but prosaic. Helps me fall asleep.

And tomorrow I am getting tested for signs of God's Punishment: STDs. Not really scared, but I hope I don't get Harvard herpes(which is going around, from what I hear).

Catching the red-eye back to Boston tomorrow am. Leaving Bmore shamed and red-faced.

This is just bad manners

Received the following text from an ex today:

"Would you be interested in a 3some w/my gf? She thinks you're hot and so do I."

Um..??!!!

This is offensive on so many levels.

What the hell makes him think I'd want to fuck his gf? Past behavior would indicate that I'm open to fucking the ex, but his gf? What the hell?? From what I've seen of her, she could not even remotely be construed as attractive. But let's set that aside for a minute. Who the fuck propositions their EX-GIRLFRIEND for group sex??? Especially one they haven't spoken to in over 2 years?? That is fucked up. Seriously, dementedly fucked up.

My reply:

"Eww. No. Non. Never! I think your gf is fug. Text me when you upgrade."

Gross.

Edited to say: It's been five hours and hey, no reply!

Things I hate for reasons even unbeknownst to myself

Edition: can't explain it.

-Dartmouth grads(too stupid to know they're alive, in the manner of Wilson)
-Cornell grads(that school is so fucking weird; they have like 12 of them, including the School of Hotels and School of Farming)
-Brown grads(everyone hates Brown, even Lisa Simpson)
-men who look like women and women who look like men(freaks me out)
-redheads(Ewww.)
-albinos
-cats
-apish-looking people(e.g. Eli Roth)
-crooked penises
-computer programmers
-women named Cynthia

Ah shit

I'm never drinking again for as long as I live. This hangover feels like a dozen men pulverizing my head with golf clubs. I brought a bunch of work with me, but I can't focus.

So this new blog. I've resisted moving to Blogger for so long, but the hecklers at Diaryland made it mandatory. There will be no mention of my academic institution here, lest it be gobbled by the bots of Google. I'm hoping I can remain anonymous and write honestly.

Okay, here's where I'll start. Last night, I hooked up with this woman-- who was maybe an 8 on a scale with a maximum of 10, and of course I had my wine goggles on. She was flirty and bought me drinks, and I didn't fully comprehend the depth of her annoyingness because the music was so loud and I was trashed. I brought her back to my friend's townhouse and we hooked up a little bit, but she was a little hygienically challenged, let's say, and I just couldn't get into it. She had nice tits, though. That much, I do remember... but still not nice enough to redeem herself. She kept pawing me while I was sleeping in the bed. She was one of those eager, grateful types(most likely a former fattie, judging from her stretch marks, bleccch). And God, how I wish I didn't remember how hairy she was, gag. I had to wake her up and kick her out of the house when I sobered up a bit, around 11 am or so. Also, I wanted her out of there before anyone woke up.

She wanted to take a shower first. I hesitated, but I relented, mostly because she needed it badly. She was in the bathroom for quite a while, and then came out, got dressed, and left without saying goodbye. I was relieved that she was gone and didn't think twice about it. At this point, everyone was sleeping still.

About two hours later, my friend Asher(who is renting the townhouse) is yelling that his watch, a Cartier limited-edition or something other, is fucking missing. Instantly I realized that the dirty bitch I hooked up with last night was the culprit, but I kept my mouth shut. Why? I can't afford to buy him a replacement and am hugely mortified thus. Thankfully, I don't think anyone remembers that I brought a girl home last night, and no one has said anything to me. I do feel horrible about hooking up with a thief, though. She wasn't even that hot. That's the part that bothers me most. That, and the fact that she robbed my friend.

Well, so far, this bisexual experiment is not panning out. First one was a bona fide psycho, and the second one is a hairy thief. It would be stupid to remain optimistic at this point.

See? I could never write about shit like this if my friends were reading this.

Oooh, my head. I need to go rest.