The conversation below was between two teenage boys, on a bus, definitely no older than 16 (no facial hair). I was sitting, facing them, and they were holding onto the top rail leaning over me. They both had that Caribbean twinge like my old roommate's friends who were from Bermuda. I wish i 'ould doopli-kate eht.
Teenage Boy #1: She's mad inexperienced, yo.
Teenage Boy #2: Yea, but you like that.
Teenage Boy #1: Yea I like that she hasn't been around but it's just...it's different.
Teenage Boy #2: Yeah. It's not as good.
Teenage Boy #1: Yea, she's inexperienced. I mean...I don't want to take her virginity.
Teenage Boy #2: Then she'll fall in love.
Teenage Boy #1: Exactly, man. She'll be callin' me. But she wants me to.
Teenage Boy #2: ::laughs::
Teenage Boy #1: I don't want to. I'm not gonna take her.
Teenage Boy #2: I think you're gonna fall in love wit her.
Then they got off. So sweet, right?
It made me long for my 16-year-old girl problems. Sigh.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Fucking Boys
Isn't it fabulous how when guys are questioned about a break-up, they respond with, "As long as she's happy."
"I just want her to be happy" whether it is with or without me.
And y'know why I call bullshit on this? Because we (girls, again) probably would have been happy with boy-in-question if the boy hadn't fucked it all up. It's like, yes they're sad that it's over, yes they're upset that they don't get to see this wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman everyday, but they are glad to see that she's happy, and that's truly what they want for her.
"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well and happy."
And yes, thank you. Yes, I am happy.
"I just want her to be happy" whether it is with or without me.
And y'know why I call bullshit on this? Because we (girls, again) probably would have been happy with boy-in-question if the boy hadn't fucked it all up. It's like, yes they're sad that it's over, yes they're upset that they don't get to see this wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman everyday, but they are glad to see that she's happy, and that's truly what they want for her.
"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well and happy."
And yes, thank you. Yes, I am happy.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Last spring
There is a story that I was going to post about my goings-on of last year at just this time that I decided to rip down. My story, while it would reveal the truth, would also possibly hurt someone (I suspect). My story, however, is juicy and scandalous, and makes me laugh cruelly inside. But no, I'm not going to post it.
But I will talk about last year...
Last year was a time of massive change.... abandoning recklessness. Today it was so warm outside. It was warm, but still a little damp and it felt good. I didn't mind walking and being around people, so I took the bus to work this morning and sucked in the cool, fresh air through my nose as I strolled down my block. I even walked around campus a bunch of times.
The warmer air always stirs old memories. Most of them so good. So good that I long to recreate that moment just so I can feel that emotion again. It cannot be recreated though. It can never be duplicated. Yes, there will be similar moments of happiness and laughter, and beyond that, there will be similar moments of just pure contentment. Satisfaction. But the person, or the event, or the day can never be reincarnated. It happened; it's over.
March forward.
But I will talk about last year...
Last year was a time of massive change.... abandoning recklessness. Today it was so warm outside. It was warm, but still a little damp and it felt good. I didn't mind walking and being around people, so I took the bus to work this morning and sucked in the cool, fresh air through my nose as I strolled down my block. I even walked around campus a bunch of times.
The warmer air always stirs old memories. Most of them so good. So good that I long to recreate that moment just so I can feel that emotion again. It cannot be recreated though. It can never be duplicated. Yes, there will be similar moments of happiness and laughter, and beyond that, there will be similar moments of just pure contentment. Satisfaction. But the person, or the event, or the day can never be reincarnated. It happened; it's over.
March forward.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I haven't been around in awhile. I've been here and there, and up and down, and everywhere. Let's see...there was St. Patrick's Day on Staten Island, then Atlantic City for B's birthday, then real St. Patrick's Day and now it's almost April and I've been writing lovely messages to myself in my planner; items like, "You only have 12 days until this massive, weighty paper is due. Stop treating yourself like an asshole!" Nothing like a little self-induced motivation.
April is always a time of joy, as the March confusion dissipates and things are decided. I'm a worrier. I worry about everything. I can't help it, it's genetic. Ultimately, I know that everything gets decided, and time is the biggest calmer of anxiety. So April. Joy.
Let us not forget that April is also the beginning of the end of the spring semester of school. This is a time of things being due - papers, presentations, projects and exams! And my spring joy is going to be zapped by all of this rubbish to-do work. I'm trying to prevent that by planning ahead; allocating time for idea-conspiring-come-together-ness.
You see, I'm not one of those people that can look shit up, read it, and then write a paper. I have to search down all avenues of thought. This usually takes 4 or 5, 3 hour blocks of time where I just think. Maybe I write a little.
I'll finally be inspired by something and write a few pages of nonsensical thought patterns. Then I'll scrap that entire idea (usually the night before), because it doesn't really relate to what the professor wants (more about this later) and so I'll be forced to write an entirely new paper on an entirely new premise, with entirely new sources. I'm usually too tired to read and check over the paper by the time I'm finished so I throw up my hands, cry a little, and crawl into bed. Aggravating? Frustrating? Yes and yes, but it's how I work.
I'm trying to eliminate that by working with myself; realizing what I need to do, and how my forced paper process works.
So, I'll update you on how April moves along. Only 5 more days left in March.
April is always a time of joy, as the March confusion dissipates and things are decided. I'm a worrier. I worry about everything. I can't help it, it's genetic. Ultimately, I know that everything gets decided, and time is the biggest calmer of anxiety. So April. Joy.
Let us not forget that April is also the beginning of the end of the spring semester of school. This is a time of things being due - papers, presentations, projects and exams! And my spring joy is going to be zapped by all of this rubbish to-do work. I'm trying to prevent that by planning ahead; allocating time for idea-conspiring-come-together-ness.
You see, I'm not one of those people that can look shit up, read it, and then write a paper. I have to search down all avenues of thought. This usually takes 4 or 5, 3 hour blocks of time where I just think. Maybe I write a little.
I'll finally be inspired by something and write a few pages of nonsensical thought patterns. Then I'll scrap that entire idea (usually the night before), because it doesn't really relate to what the professor wants (more about this later) and so I'll be forced to write an entirely new paper on an entirely new premise, with entirely new sources. I'm usually too tired to read and check over the paper by the time I'm finished so I throw up my hands, cry a little, and crawl into bed. Aggravating? Frustrating? Yes and yes, but it's how I work.
I'm trying to eliminate that by working with myself; realizing what I need to do, and how my forced paper process works.
So, I'll update you on how April moves along. Only 5 more days left in March.
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