Black

I passed out this morning as I was getting off the treadmill. I couldn't finish my 6 miles, I could barely pound out 5.66! My heart started racing painfully and throbbing and I couldn't see anything anymore and the next thing I know, some girl is yelling, "Call 911!" This is the 2nd time this has happened to me at the school gym, and I might have to pay for a membership at a different gym so people don't think I'm some crazy 'rexic running nut(which I am, but I don't want everyone to know about it!). Plus I keep getting these looks (only from women) of abject hatred, and I don't want to deal with all this drama when I work out. Just let me do my thing and leave me alone, damnit.

I'm sure my body hates me. I overeat once every three days, and when I'm not starving, I'm drinking gallons of cold water or reapplying lip gloss. Mark saw me last night and he was like, "You know how some girls take it too far with the being thin thing? You're there. I think if you lose any more, you'll be unattractive. You're starting to look asexual." I know his comment was meant to deter me, but it made me soooo happy that he said that. Unf, who the fuck cares if I look asexual. Sex is only a poor substitute for what I'm really after.

Mark and I are going to Paris this summer, we decided. I'm tired of waiting to be in love so I can visit Paris again, and who better to go w/than Mark? He is so fucking adorable it drives me crazy sometimes. If I'm not married by the time I'm 35, we are going to have kids together. He's tall, blatantly good-looking, and 2X smarter than me. Of course I want his sperm.

OK, I'm supposed to meet Elizabeth for lunch soon and I need to get ready. I'm having iced tea, of course. And she has some last season's clothes for me, including a loose Phillip Lim sweater I've been coveting since forever! I now have an outfit for my dykecon Thursday.

I wasted my youth when I was young

OMG. I just came home from my section and the Swedish freshman invited me to his 19th birthday party. I about died.

Him: "So you should totally come to my party. You can be my guest of honor."
Me: "How old are you exactly?"
Him: "I'm three days away from nineteen!"[he said proudly]
Me: "OMG. I could be your damn mother."
Him: "No way! Unless you had me at like, age three!"
Me: "No, seriously. I'm almost 30."
Him: [silence]
Me: "Yeah, see? I'm too old to party with you."
Him: [he does not disagree]

I ate too much last night and I feel sooo gross this morning. I didn't get up in time for my 6 am run, but I'm dashing to the gym to torch some calories. And I'm officially 'rexing today.

I am disgusting. I'm almost 30. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I need my youth back.

Beds

I went to the Boston Public Library today(gross, I know, but there was a book I couldn't find anywhere else). Some guy, normal by outward appearance, looked at me straight in the eye as I was leaving. I smiled at him, though I don't know why I did that. My stance on smiling is a firm anti. But I did it anyway. Then he said, "Oh my god, Hi!" and ran after me, still holding his unchecked-out books. How do I know they were unchecked-out? Because the alarm rang as he came after me, and two security guards had to stop him. It was pretty funny. Shame though, because he was pretty cute. But probably a bum, if he's checking books out at the public library.

I was snowed in on Friday night, and I ended up having my 1st 3some of 2008(MWW). It was pretty hot. I think the key to a good 3some is to be the star of the event. As in, both parties should concentrate on pleasing only you and the rest is irrelevant. The girl is some chick we met at a bar(kinda gross, I know) but she was a looker, and that's pretty much all that matters when you're looking for a 3some participant. The man is my annoying but buff fuckbuddy(he of the red roses and the offending Hershey's chocolate). I was trying to phase him out slowly, but so much for that plan. He called me four times today and texted me three times. What's hilarious is that Friday was his first 3some ever, and now he thinks he's some sort of a sex maven. I think he feels like a stud, having bedded two women at once. Though he really was more of a watching participant instead of an active, participating participant. He got to rub her tits. I think that was v. exciting for him.

Anyway, he's been sending me these barfy text msgs, obviously failed attempts at trying to get me aroused. Example: "I want to spend all day eating you out." That is NOT sexy, that just makes me think he has no life!(he doesn't.) He's been promoted to an intolerable state of annoyance from beginner's pest. I wish he'd leave me alone.

I've been lax about acquiring that beautiful, non-psycho girlfriend. I'm going to a big dykecon on Thursday in Jamaica Plain, so maybe I'll meet one there.

I like blondes. I don't know why. I like blonde, stacked, artificially processed-looking. The Denise Richards-type. And the dumber, the better. Exactly the opposite of how I like my men. And the nipples must be pink, no brown. I hate brown nips.

Time for bed.

So stupid(me)

This article has officially freaked me out. I should not have thrown Ben away. He was perfect husband material(aside from his rage-head tendencies): Harvard/Harvard Law, old money, taller than 6'0. OMG. I let this one go, how could I have done that?

Am angry at myself. God, I'm such a loser sometimes.

Mark keeps telling me that I have to hurry up and finish my doctorate so I can move to NY, where all the good men are. Yeah, right! If anything, being in Boston is doing wonders for my ego(I am considered supermodel-hot here, but by NY standards, I will just be demoted to "cute." If I move to LA, I'll just be another average-looking chick) and I can't fathom meeting more men in NY. I mean, NY isn't a single-woman friendly city.

All in all, Boston is not a bad place to be if you are a woman. And if you weren't psycho like me and hadn't burned all of her bridges, then you're in the right town to meet smart, well-educated guys.

But seriously, I have run out of men here. I've dated everyone and their college roommate, plus random people who poked me on Facebook. I'm out of options now.

And I'm so fucking sick of internet dating. Darwin dating was fun, for like, one week. I refuse to cower to Match.com, and only creeps ever message me on OKCupid.

And approaching strangers in Boston is not only considered bad form, but grounds for a fierce ass-kicking. I never approach men, anyway. Plus, it's always the assholes who hit on me at Whole Foods and Peet's.

OMGOMG. I should have married Ben. I should have.

Venus

Today was a better day. Almost any day is better day than yesterday.

I had lunch with Mark today. We went to a cute little bistro on Beacon, and we sat next to one of Mitt Romney's kids. I didn't know who he was, but Mark knew him and said hello. He was cute.

Ben's mother called me today. I've only met her twice in my life(once in 1997, and once in 2007) so I was surprised when she called. Summarily, she berated me for my choices and told me that Ben was too good for me. Ben, ever the Mama's boy, obviously went to her crying and bitching about how I left him and how he's irreparably broken inside. What a pussy. I was polite and told her that whatever happened between Ben and I is none of her business, and to please refrain from ever contacting me again. It was surreal. I can't believe Ben isn't embarrassed by any of this.

I was talking to Mark today when he said: "You really don't have any vice, except men, do you?" So true. How well he knows me! All of my problems can be traced to one man or to another. Why am I so obsessed with men?

I found this ad on Craigslist about amateur erotic modeling. Some dude is paying $200 an hour for "hot, normal women" to pose erotically and for the copyrighted images. It was taken down about an hour after it was posted, but I emailed the guy and asked him how serious it was. He said it was very serious, and I sent him a few photos, and he said he would pay me $300 an hour for me to pose for him if I let him take an unlimited amount of pictures.

I told Mark about this, and it completely freaked him out. He begged me not to do it, but I still really want to. Part of it is the money, but mostly for the fun of it. He was all like, "Are you crazy? What if they end up on the internet? You can kiss your career in academia goodbye." That may be true, but maybe I don't mind. Or maybe I'm bored and I'm looking for trouble again.

I ate too much at dinner and lunch. I feel like an absolute sausage. I'm getting my period and I'm turning into one ravenous, hormonal bitch. It's times like these when I'm sorry I don't have a man to nag and emasculate. That always makes me feel better.

Always 3'o'clock in the morning of my mind

The thing is, for the past few days, I've been punishing myself in my dreams.

Every night, I revisit something horrible I've done to someone who didn't deserve it. And I feel guilty, inhuman, indecent. I'm struck with this heaviness that only comes from being a shitty person, someone filled with pure evil. Then I wake up, feel like killing myself, and have a shit.ty day. This has been going on for the past 3 days. They don't even feel like 3 separate days, really. Just a really long continuation of misery with no breaks for sleeping and eating.

I never forgive. Never. I don't forget, either. My system of memory is relentless. I hold onto every single injustice, every single stupid jab that every passing person has inflicted on me. And I take it, stab myself with it, and pour acid and salt all over the wounds. Somehow, masochism works for me. I wish it didn't.

I will always be a self-hating person. No amount of therapy or love will change that. It's easier for me if I accept it and look for other ways of filling the void, like sex. Sex is good. Sex fools me at least for a few minutes, and I can think I'm normal and it feels derivative, unremarkable, that I am having sex. This is what everyone does. Then it's over and I have to punish myself all over again.

Classes are a haze, so are the students who are in my section this semester. I don't remember anyone's name, I just point to the few people whose hands perk up every time I ask a stupid, esoteric question. There is this one kid, a blonde, a very Swedish looking boy, who has this metaphysical take on everything I say. He brought me a red apple and said something cute today, but I was too depressed to actually enjoy it and I ended up throwing it away. But still, work goes on. Teaching goes on. Memorizing rote lines goes on.

Last night, I dreamt that I was taking my life and living it in every pedestrian way, and somebody yelled "Cut!" from above. I started to laugh, because it all made crystal-clear sense to me now. How every emotion and violence and depth I've felt has been a farce, nothing more than exaggeration of my senses, purely manipulated for dramatic effect, editorially enhanced. It made sense! Of course people didn't live this way. This has been just a bad movie. Then I woke up and it was still filming.

It's almost 3 am here, freezing. I have two sweaters on, but still my body isn't capable of generating enough warmth to keep me comfortable. I haven't eaten for two days.

It's never warm enough.

It was...

It was my fuckbuddy. He stopped by this morning to drop them off, and my roommate let him in.

Gave the whole mess to the elderly lady next door. She said "God Bless you" and told me I was an angel. If only she knew...

What the fuck?

Ok, I just came home from class and there is a bouquet of red roses and a box of Hershey's pot of gold chocolates on my desk. Clearly from an individual who does not know me well, given that I: 1)hate, hate, hate red roses 2)hate Hershey's chocolate.

Who did this? So far, my only suspect is my roommate. There is no card.

Maybe these are from Ben? Kind of as a "fuck you, you cunt" Valentine's day homage? I don't know how he would know my new address, though. I don't think they're from Stephen either, this is just not his style. I have to point to my roommate. There is no one else.

I hope he doesn't think he's getting anything out of this. I have half a mind to give these away to the nice elderly lady next door. She's very sweet and welcomed me into the building, and I bet these would make her day. Right now, they are just sitting on my desk, mocking me, driving me crazy.

Inside

OMG, I hate my mom. I know I've said it a thousand times, but the day she dies will be the day I finally get some peace. I can't do anything after I talk to her on the phone because she makes me so tired yet I feel like clawing someone's eyes out. I rage, but my body feels so heavy and sluggish.

I wonder if she didn't breastfeed me as a baby. How is it possible that a daughter can hate its own mother so much? Seriously, is it my brain chemistry that's fucked up, or did she do something to warrant this? I know she fucked me up from age 6 until 17, but what about before that, where my memory doesn't have any tape? I have to believe that a 6 year old kid doesn't wake up one morning and decides to hate her mother.

With my psychotic, impulsive tendencies, it is a testament to my ability to summon superhuman restraint that I haven't physically harmed her. Seriously, I hate her that much. It's carnal, really.

Whatever it is, it makes me hate myself even more. I don't like hating her. I strongly believe in karma, and I don't want my own daughter to hate me, too. Since my brother died, I've made a sincere effort to tolerate my mother more, but I have gone beyond my limit. I can't do it any longer.

God, I feel like looking up the combination of drugs Heath Ledger took and promptly mixing my meds like I shouldn't be. I can't escape from this dungeon of despair. I feel like I'll be here forever.

Disgusting on all levels

My life lately has been a string of one crappy event after another, I just haven't felt like writing about it. Not that I've only written about happy stuff before, but the last few days have been so awful.

I'll try to recap, though. I saw Stephen, the former love of my life. He took the train from NY to see me, and it was a complete disaster. I didn't know what I was expecting-- him to want me, I guess? Yes, that is what I wanted. We've been exchanging smutty pictures of ourselves all week, and then he shows up on my doorstep, whisks me away to dinner, and tells me he has a girlfriend. "Would you be ok with it, though? If we just hooked up while I was here?" he said, so boldly. I died a little inside. Had I meant that little to him? He chepened our 7 year relationship with a single sentence.

I didn't say anything, and told him I had to go to the bathroom. I calmly walked to the back, washed my face, turned off my phone, and walked out of the restaurant with my head held high and averting everyone's gaze. I have not opened his emails or texts or voicemails. I want him to no longer exist for me.

I should be able to get over this. I've had a lot of practice because he's disappointed me so many times before. But this time, he obliterated any hope I had of us getting back together. Ever.

I thought to myself, I don't have a reason to live anymore. Then I got pissed off for feeling that way, tried to replace that feeling with something else equally sinister but more palatable, and engaged in some self-punishment--i.e. I had sex with men who were gross. And I didn't even get paid for it.

I'm seriously thinking about charging for this. It's like sitting on an oil well. Only I'm letting people drill it for free. I won't look like this forever, either. Maybe I could be a choosy hooker, like only do it with guys who aren't gross. Is there such a thing? But then again, I can't stand the sex/degradation combo. It nearly made me vomit every time I had to go to work when I was a stripper-in-training. It also made me want to kill myself even more. Do I dare open that can of shittiness again?

And my aptmate is incredibly annoying. He leers at me, and I caught him taking pictures of me when I was making breakfast this morning as I was puttering around the kitchen. I had just gotten up and I was wearing a wife beater w/no bra, so clearly, my nips were showing. And he took a picture of me like that! He said he was trying to capture "art" but what he really wanted to do is probably go in his room and beat off to them, that asshole. He then offered to pay me to pose for him, because he is a "serious photographer." Oh, barf, barf, barf.

Time for a shower and Project Runway.

Truth at first light

Well, I think my fuckbuddy has transitioned into the maybe-boyfriend territory. He helped me move all my shit, in this dismal weather. I'm not sure Ben would have done the same.

It was kind of weird because I wanted to leave after we were done last night, around 1 am. He literally begged me to stay, saying, "Please? I never get to spend the night with you!" Uh... well, I didn't really feel like trekking all the way to Cambridge anyhow, so I did spend the night. I kept having these terrifying dreams where my brother was telling me to make peace with myself and his life. It was so vivid and sad, I woke up heartbroken and crying. I went out into the living room for a while, and Fuckbuddy came out from the bedroom all concerned, and he made me hot chocolate and we listened to Mazzy Star together. He didn't want me to listen to sad music when I was so sad, but I insisted. It was the best 4 am experience I've had in quite a while. I was also oddly touched that he didn't get annoyed with me for waking him up. Ben would have screamed at me for me to get back into bed.

I woke up around 9 am and he was making breakfast-- eggs Benedict, rye toast. He's the total gourmand and he bakes his own bread and makes his own yogurt and stuff(made me think he was gay at first), but everything was so delicious and he didn't even get grossed out while I was hurling massive proportions of food into my mouth.

Then he asked me what I was going to do today, and I said "looking for apartments." He offered to help, and help he did: his friend actually has an empty room right across from campus! For $500 a month, that's a steal. Then he was like, "Ok, let's get your stuff moved!" So cool that he took care of everything.

And again, my psychotic tendency to question people's motives is coming afloat. Why is he being so nice to me? The sex was good, but it wasn't that good. I don't know. Maybe he's desperate and he wants me to be his girlfriend. He disgusts me slightly. I have a weird aversion to people being nice to me.

My new apt isn't that bad... just really spartan. This was my third move of the year, and we're only two months into 2008. I really don't want to move anymore. It's gotten so bad that I threw away so much of my crap, I barely have anything to my name. But people will usually call me when they want to give away their clothes or books, so I'll have more stuff soon.

There's a weird guy on Darwin Dating that says he knows me and he wants to see me "again." I don't recognize his picture and he creeps me out totally, because he knows I'm a grad student at Harvard and everything. How does he know? Anyway, I tried to cancel my profile on that thing, but for some reason, it's not letting me and it's still showing up(much like OKcupid). This may be a sign for me to hang up my internet dating hat for good.

I'm so tired, but I don't want to sleep, because I don't want to dream about my brother again. Great. Even being dead, he has to find some way to make me miserable and uncomfortable. Or maybe I'm doing this to myself. That would be not at all surprising.

I'm so shameless

Friday night. I have three dates scheduled back to back to back... I've triple-booked! This is excess, even for me.

First dude, I'm meeting at a bar for drinks. Met him on Facebook. If he turns out to be *really* hot, I might ditch the rest of the guys. But probably not, since pictures are always better than the real deal.

Second dude, I'm meeting at a restaurant one block away from the bar. We met on the T. He looks like David Duchovny.

Third dude-- well, he's my fuckbuddy. I'm texting him after I'm done w/the 2nd one, and we'll probably have some casual sex. It's been a little while since I've seen him. He's the attentive, grateful type, so I'm sure I'll have fun tonight with at least one guy.

Ok, I have to get ready. My marathon of men starts in less than 40 minutes.

Update

If you want to know why I haven't updated in a while(sorry, Dan!), it's because I've been spending time here: http://www.darwindating.com. Read the list of requirements, it's pretty funny. Everything on there I agree with, especially the no redheads rule(red-haired people freak me out and are v. scary to me).

It took me less than a day to get accepted(without posting any links, ha!) but I was much disappointed that there are still, in fact, some unattractive people on the site. The whole concept is hilarious in itself, because if you are as hot as you say, why should you have to resort to internet dating? Hey, exhibit A: me. I have to resort to it because I'm psycho and I've already exhausted the local supply of decent men in the greater Boston area. Plus I have social anxiety problems. This is why it is theoretically possible for hot people to need the internet to date.

Here's the email they sent me:

Dear C,

WOW, you're hot! Congratulations on being selected by the oh-so-hot members of Darwin Dating as someone they want to mate with! You are now a fully fledged member of Darwin Dating. :)

Lots of people who have applied for membership have been rejected, so you're definitely in the hottest proportion of the human race.

The next step is to complete your profile online and upload it for other members to view. Once you have done this any member will be able to initiate contact with you and you will be able to contact any other member for free!

As a member you now have a much bigger say in who else will be accepted as members to the site! Once you have logged in you can browse and rate the latest group of applicants.

We've only recently launched the site, so there aren't a huge number of people to search through yet. However traffic is increasing and while we still receive many ugly applicants, hot people are signing up all the time.

Please forward details of the site to your hot friends and hopefully we'll be able to build a nice repository of hot people for you to contact!

Yours in attractive people,

The Darwin Dating team


Yeah, I've had five dates in the past week, and I'm getting messages all the time. It's not that much fun anymore, considering I've seen all the "hot" guys in Boston and really, they're not much to write home about. I'm over it now. What would really be rad is if someone started something like this for smart people only, like make them take an online IQ test before they were allowed to join. But I bet most of the people would be ugly.

I'm also on Beautifulpeople.net, and pickings for Boston dudes are also scant there. That's the problem with exclusivity-- it's lonely. I joined when it first launched and now it's kind of dead.

On a somewhat related note, I've also taken up a sick hobby... in taking nude pictures of myself and posting them on various R and R boards across CL of random cities. I get such a little kick out of getting emails from strangers telling me how much they want to fuck me. Again, this has taken up quite a bit of my time, aside from teaching a freshman seminar this semester... yes, I'm back to being full-time!

Oh, and Ben and I? We're through, obviously. I don't really want to write about it now, except that I returned the damn ring and I hope he catches herpes in Palo Alto.

My internet access is spotty, as I am still mooching off of various ex-boyfriends and friends and sleeping on their couches. I can't seem to find a decent apt. I'm still working out every day and I'm eating one square meal per two days. It's a way of life.

I'll write more later. Right now, I'm late for a dept meeting...