Monday, January 24, 2011


I find you so attractive. You don't even know it. You don't even know! You have no idea, despite the fact that you keep noticing me staring at you but then I, expertly look away real fast as if I had only just been momentarily distracted from my very important, very meaningful, big girl work and now I have to look away real fast lest we make eye contact for far too long and I get too distracted from my very important, grown up work that I absolutely have to do right now.

"She must be be so overcome by her various passions," you think. "She does not have time to look at me! She is writing about whales and the ozone, and not at all thinking about me naked. She is writing poetry of feminism and philosophy, and it isn't poetry about the mortal sin she certainly does NOT want to commit in this room full of people. ANYTHING but how sexy she does not find my patchy facial hair, my inability to keep my fingers still when I read, my completely unappealing habit of biting my bottom lip."

"She is not fantasizing about reaching over this desk, seizing my face, and making out with it, not throwing these macbooks to the ground, crawling towards my chest, tracing shapes she creates there with her fingertips. She will not allow breasts and mouths and legs and necks to drift back into place, back home, back where they were intended. Damnit, she is not picturing us naked in the summertime, she thinks nothing of screwing me on the hood of her Oldsmobile, HATES the idea of sex in the rain, outside the pantry, spoken word, jazz, alternative country and maybe a little NPR soundtracking our hot lust. Jesus Christ."

"She does not want me as badly as I want her. Clearly, because she kept looking away when I noticed her staring at my utterly unattractive jawline. Clearly she was just thinking great, not at all perverse thoughts that have nothing to do with my body and all the ways she does not want to objectify it. Clearly, she has better things on her mind than how my voice sounds when it says her name. I better pretend I wasn't looking right back at her," you think. "I better look away real fast before she notices."

Friday, January 7, 2011

Things I think about, in order

Here is what I think about, usually, before I go to sleep every night. I am listing these thoughts in the order that they occur.

I usually think about how I don't sleep enough at night, or sleep too much during the day, or am never really well rested, or if I think I am well rested I must be fooling myself

If I think I'm healthy, I must be fooling myself

If I think I'm happy, I must be fooling myself

If I think I'm smart and cute and funny and nice, I must be fooling myself.

I must make more of an effort to be smart and cute and funny and nice

I should study more/ be more interested in stuff

I should exercise and dress nice and take care of my hair and stop popping my zits, it just makes them worse

I should stop copying other people's senses of humor and styles and just use my own

What is my sense of humor and style?

Do I even have either of those things?

Who am I?

Well, at least I'm pretty nice.

Oh my God, I was such a bitch to that person on that one day

He/she deserved it, probably

My mother would have called me a snot

I should try to be less of a snot

Maybe I'm too nice

I listen to my mother too much

I'm too friendly

I need to stop being so forward

This is why I don't have a boyfriend

All my friends have boyfriends

And sometimes girlfriends

I don't want even really want a boyfriend, just someone I'm allowed to have make out with and cuddle with if I feel like it

I don't need a man to define my life

Boys suck

I'm hungry

I don't like pudding much, but there's one more pudding cup in the fridge downstairs

It's too cold to get up, and I didn't get up to pee before so I'm certainly not getting up to get that pudding cup

What does define my life?

Who am I?

What am I going to be when I grow up?

How grown up do I have to be before I grow up?

Maybe 25

I'll figure some of this stuff out when I'm 25

Crap, I only have 5 years

I still feel fourteen and I wonder if there will ever be a time in my life when I won't feel fourteen

Maybe at 25

I'll figure all this stuff out when I'm 25

Where am I going to live when I'm 25?

Will I graduate?

Will I have a job I like?

Who will I live with?

Who will I be?

Who am I?

Why does everyone else have their shit together and know who they are and have boyfriends and sometimes girlfriends or at least have regular sex usually?

How late is it?

I'm not going to get enough sleep tonight

I'm still hungry

I still have to pee

I should try to stop thinking so I can get to sleep

I never sleep enough at night, and then I sleep too much during the day and I waste the whole day when I could be getting my shit together instead.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

This is all I do.