Unsettled

So tomorrow I'm going to the same beer festival I went to two years ago, the one where I made some serious mistakes. Yeah, that one. I'm a little nervous about it because it's almost a given that it'll be a shitshow. I haven't been drunk like that in a long time and I'm kind of nervous if I'll be able to have more control over my actions than last time.

You're probably thinking that if it were you, you'd never go back, but I don't think I can live like that. I mean, I love the festival for one, but also, I don't want to avoid people or places just because they remind me of something bad. I should take that experience and learn from it. Should being the operative word there.

I'm also a little sad that it's been almost two years since it happened, therefore, it's been two years since I've had sex (the first and last time) and two years since I've kissed anyone. It seems like forever. I think it's because it's around the two year mark too that I'm getting really sensitive to things around me relating to dating, love, and sex too.

Last night I went out with some coworkers and they were talking about their love lives and of course, I had nothing to contribute. (I worry that they see me as this weird asexual person who works in their office.) Also, just when anyone else talks about relationships, I get really uncomfortable. I was out with friends of a friend of a friend, haha, and they were talking about this other girl who didn't have sex with her boyfriend for like a year while they were dating and the group was all like "what? how do you not have sex with your boyfriend for 10 days let alone a whole year" and I do the whole nod and "oh yeah, that's insane!" Please, like I have any idea.

Then anytime anyone brings up the 3 date rule, it's like omg, is it really true? I am not going to be comfortable by date 3 to do that and when I don't, he's going to think I'm a freak, right? Ugh, it's these little anxieties that really get to me..the social awkwardness talking about it, the awkwardness in a relationship when you get to that point...if I ever get to that point. Probably not. I just wish I could be a normal twenty-something woman with a normal healthy sex life with relationship history. Even the stupid sex tips section of magazines that I read even though I have nothing to relate to.

I just want it all to end. I'm ready. I really am.....still waiting. Sigh. I give up.

So cranky

So even though I just got back from visiting C she randomly came out this weekend and stayed with my friend M. Everyone made an effort to go see C and we all talked about how D just got engaged and how we don't like her fiance, blah blah blah. Well, A, who is def the maid of honor, said that D will definitely ask C to be in the wedding. M thought that D might ask me too. Don't get me wrong, I am totally relieved that she isn't planning on asking me, but it got me thinking.

All I could think about after that was that not one of my "friends" from this group has or will likely ask me to be in their weddings. I know that there are family obligations and with some groups of girls you can't ask just some girls and not others because it might get caddy, but we're not like that. Everyone so far will invite one or two to be in the wedding, it will just never be me. That kind of upsets me to know that I'm not close enough to any one of them in that way.

Likewise, I don't know who of them, if any, I would ask to be in my wedding. That got me even more depressed because my family is so F'd up that I prolly couldn't even invite 2/3 of them because of family drama. Then, I don't even think my sister would want to be my maid of honor. AND even IF I get married, by the time it happens, my friends will be so old and probably pregnant that they wouldn't even want to be bridesmaids at that point.

Then somehow the conversation led to sex and pregnancy, which I love since I have so much to contribute. Couple that with the fact I slept horribly on couches two nights in a row and woke up super early, the hoards of traffic I hit coming home, assholes cutting me off and my pigsty of an apt I came home to, which I can only blame myself for, and I am in a FINE mood. Can you tell? Haha.

And oh, I learned that in addition to possibly fucking Gary and keeping Eric on hold until he comes back from Iraq (she couldn't figure anything out with him so far away, please), K is apparently fucking some other guy that she knows. So shady I think, but why do I care? It's not what I want, but, still, the fact that she is stringing three different guys along (the fact that she can get three guys to want her even) really annoys me.

So glad it's Sunday and I have to wake up early and go to work tomorrow. =)

Why do I even care?

So this past weekend I decided to visit C out of state in the midwest. Wow, no offense to anyone living out that way, but what a difference from living in a major city on the east coast. What is it with college football anyways? So having nothing else to do but talk, C revealed something to me that I thought was pretty shocking.

Let me start with some backstory first. So, back in college C had a thing for this guy, lets call him Gary. So they made out a bit but things never took off and they remained friends, to this day. Junior year Gary and K spent time hanging out over the summer and got really close and eventually started dating. They dated for 5 years! until a point in their relationship when K revealed she had feelings for this friend of hers, let's call him Eric. Honestly, I never thought that she was completely committed to Gary and she always hung out with a lot of guy friends, Eric included. Well, Gary did NOT take it well, even revealing to C that he hated her and suspected she had been cheating on him and could never trust her again. (Gary and C have kept in touch this whole time.)

So, I had lunch with A last weekend and she asked me if K and Gary were fucking. I was like WHAT? Hell no! Gary hates K, I mean, as far as I know anyways. I know after they broke up (about 2 years ago now) that she moved to the same town as him, actually just about 2 blocks away from him, but I don't think that had anything to do with him, just that she liked that part of town. Well, I mentioned this to C this weekend saying "isn't that weird that she would think that?" She then told me that K told her that her and Gary had actually made out recently..shocking. I never saw that one coming. I think it's a horrible idea if they are fucking, because honestly when do 'friends with benefits' ever work out and if they are doing just that without being back together someone, if not both of them, are going to get hurt, which I don't want to see, obviously.

Anyways, in the course of this conversation, I don't know how it came about, but C tells me that Gary visited her out in the midwest about a year ago. I thought that was totally weird. I mean, yeah they're friends, but close enough to spend $250 on airfare to say hi to? Weird. Well, she then revealed that she ended up having sex with him while he was there. Wow.

I was shocked. I did my best not to reveal this. I mean, she is an adult capable of making her own decisions and who am I to judge her, but it wasn't so much of her having a one night stand that shocked me. I think it had more to do with the fact that she had the opportunity to do that with someone she knew and trusted and felt comfortable with. Here I am knowing nobody, let alone any guy friends I would want to do that with. I don't know, I can't explain it, but I definitely felt jealousy. I don't want a one night stand though, so I don't get why I'd be jealous of that. Maybe it's just knowing she's slept with another person expanding the gap between her and myself and is one-upping me? I don't want to be one of those kinds of girls who keeps score, all I want is one really. The right one, obviously.

I mean, C and K are the only two other single girls from my group and if K is fucking Gary and C doesn't seem to be having a problem getting laid, even it was by Gary haha, then what the fuck is wrong with me?

I need to stop talking about this. In happier news, one of my friends, D, is engaged! Barf. One more down the tubes. Not that I envy her situation, her boyfriend is a loser. But, before long I can just see A getting engaged, K getting back together with Gary and me being the only loser girl on the east coast who can't get a date or get laid when she wants one/to.

Practice makes perfect?

So, if you don't want to know about the followup to this post, I suggest you stop reading now. I figured I couldn't just leave you wondering, right? Well, I have to say, I was not a happy camper in the beginning for obvious reasons and was pretty upset that all of my anxiety was turning out to be pretty valid. However, I have to say that after a few more tries, it is getting better, not great, but a little better. The suggestions in that post are definitely true to the bone and it really makes a world of difference. I can't say that I am actually enjoying it, but it's not horrible either. We'll see how it goes. I have to say though, if you're thinking about it, or if you have the same anxieties I had/have, it might well be worth it. I actually feel a whole lot better about it now. I mean, I'm sure when/if the moment ever arises again, I'll still freeze in fear, but at least I can feel a little more prepared.

One thing my therapist told me, which I think makes a lot of sense, is that in order to get over your anxieties, you need to expose yourself little by little to the thing that makes you anxious so that you get accustomed to it and learn how to conquer it. Practice makes perfect. We'll see about perfect, I'll settle for painlessly uncomfortable.

Hating this

So, it hasn't even been a full week of being 28 and I'm already hating it. I just hate that I'm another year closer to 30 and I still have never had a boyfriend, not even close, and have never been in love. I am trying so hard to resolve my issues of resentment towards my friends for having experienced those things, but it's still so hard.

I hate that none of them have had to go through, what I consider, the grueling process of online dating. I know that it totally works for some people, but for me, I don't know what the problem is. Not only do I feel like I'm trying to sell myself, and I'm not that good of a salesman, but I feel like I'm not a good buyer either. Part of me thinks that I might be slightly asexual because I don't find any of these guys attractive, not even remotely. Eharmony probably thinks I'm a freak for denying all of the matches they're sending my way.

I think part of the problem is that usually I'm attracted to someone after I've gotten to know them, finding a particular part of their personality appealing, and that's virtually impossible via the internet. Part of the problem I think lies a little deeper than I'm willing to admit to anyone, even my therapist, which sucks because you should be able to tell your therapist everything, right? I feel even scared saying it here because, well, it's embarrassing.

I think I'm scared to even start a relationship. I'm not scared of commitment, I'm not scared of compromising, or even giving up my single lifestyle. I'm scared of the intimacy, mostly, obviously, relating to my sexual past, or lack thereof. Not only do I not want to talk about it, I'm scared shitless of doing it again. I had a horrible first experience and am almost happy it was with someone I know I will never see again. When I describe it as horrible, I don't even mean because it was with someone I didn't know, it was because I was so mortified by being unprepared. What if that was someone I really liked, I just don't think I could handle that kind of mortification again. I mean, all of my friends were younger and could say, "I'm not ready." A lot of them waiting 3 months, 6 months, even a year and because they were so young, it wasn't out of the ordinary. Now, at this age, I feel like women are pressured to give it up after the third date and if not, well, then, what's wrong with you?

So, I was being paranoid and looked up some stuff online. And I've read that it all mostly depends on how prepared you are, like how aroused you are, what they really stress a lot is, um, lube, but also if you still have an intact hymen, that could be a problem too. So, don't think I'm gross, but on my birthday, mind you I was a little tipsy and depressed from my bday bottle-o-wine, I decided to buy this. (You are the only ones who know this as I am so embarrassed I might die.) Thinking that maybe if I was more prepared, I wouldn't freak out as much. Omigod, what was I thinking? That shit hurt. And, it all happened again, good thing I laid down a towel first. So what if that was a guy in my bed? I mean, honestly, there have been times where I wanted to text T and tell him to come over and get me good and fucked, and now I am so glad I never did. Uh, the utter humiliation, could you imagine?

Uh, I was crying as I took a shower feeling completely like a loser and a freak. So, after MORE online paranoid googling, I think I have this. Don't laugh, I'm serious. What if it's true? I will never pursue a relationship out of sheer embarrassment.

Sorry, I keep thinking of this Princess Bride moment (you're thinking, what could possibly be the connection?) where Inigo Montoya says to Mad Max "Humiliation GALORE!" Ha.

What do I know?

Yesterday I found out that my coworker, C, who I absolutely HATE (yeah in CAPS), met her husband on eHarmony.com. I must be a horrible person because that news just made my day. I shouldn't talk, I've done match.com...twice. Both times a complete failure. I tried to sign up for eHarmony, but was rejected. I like to convince myself that match isn't working for me because I'm not completely invested in it the way you should be, that really, I'm not trying hard because i know that this isn't where I want to meet someone. I found this pic that I think sums it up...


I'm sure that many people have found love through online dating sites, but to me, I feel like you can't really know who people are by a profile. I'm sure that there are plenty of nice guys on the site, but maybe they aren't so savvy with their profile skills, and so I will never even think to "wink" at them. The guys I did end up emailing or "winking" never responded. Instead, the only people to contact me were either over 40, obese, and extremely not my type.

Maybe I'm too picky. People always tell me, "Give him a chance, maybe you'll learn to like him." I've done that before though, and I know this sounds really stubborn, but I have a sense of people almost immediately after I meet them. I can tell within 5 minutes of meeting someone whether or not I find them attractive. Oh, I should mention, I have absolutely no sense of physical attraction. I've known so many women who will see a guy and think "Oh my God, he's so hot!" while I'm thinking "Are you serious? Him?" Part of me thinks that I unknowingly trained my brain to ignore the common rules of attraction (symmetrical features, common standards of beauty) because throughout my life, these people have only ended up hurting me. That's just my theory. In reality, I've only really found 3 people attractive in my whole life.

Boy # 1: D
Before I went off to college, we were required to attend a freshmen orientation. We were broken up into groups and were assigned “orientation leaders.” These were upperclassmen who would give us insight into the college experience. Each group had two leaders and one of mine happened to be D. He was a skinny, quirky, red-haired sophomore that totally got me hooked. I’m not sure exactly what it was about him, but I was caught, hook, line, and sinker. This was no ordinary crush either, this one lasted the whole three years that we were both at college. I was the obligatory puppy dog crushee. I would go to parties if I knew he would be there, or I would show up at his dorm just to see him and drunkenly harass him. Probably the thing that instigated this crush was the fact that he was always the perfect gentleman. He would always politely entertain my shenanigans and would always be nice to me. For this, I loved him even more. Well, one drunken night of our Spring Weekend together, towards the end of the academic year, I mulled up enough courage to tell D exactly how I felt about him. I told him that I thought he was cute and nice and that I had a crush on him. And in his traditional polite way, he told me that he just didn’t see me that way. After years of trying to build my self-confidence, I was shot down by the one guy I thought I had a chance with. I guess it was all a lesson learned.

Boy #2: A
So, thinking that my loss of D was the end of all things love, I went into senior year thinking that this was going to be a love/lust-free year with no interferences of boys. Boy, was I wrong. Senior year I lived in a townhouse (that I had also lived in junior year when I got back from my semester abroad in London-another story) in one of the two courts for upperclassmen housing. We moved into the dorms in September of 2001 with the usual familiar faces of our senior classmates and a few new junior faces that we did not know. One of these junior faces was A, who moved into one of the rooms downstairs on the boy’s side of the townhouse. At first, I thought he was a nice, quiet guy who seemed a little dorky. Through the course of the semester, I found out a few things about A that seemed to peek my interest. First, I learned that he was a Religious Studies minor (I was a Religious Studies major, although I was an atheist-again, a whole other story). I learned that he was a religious guy, which, tying into my atheistic beliefs, I found to be sort of a challenge. Okay, I’m twisted, but I find it sort of satisfying to tempt men of religious beliefs (I used to have a high school fantasy of seducing a priest, although now, it makes clear sense that they’d much prefer young boys). Along with finding out his major, I discovered that A also liked the same kind of music that I did, a rarity at the uber-trendy Abercrombie & Fitch mentality of my college. How it also came up that he was into pot is another mystery, probably a result of the act, but at some point he expressed interest in going with me and my roommate out for “walks” to the nature trail in the woody area of the college's grounds. Soon the walks seem to not include my roommate and on one night in December, close to the final exam period, A and I hooked up. We didn’t have sex, but we made out and whatnot for about a week, until the winter break. I was smitten. I was convinced that he was into me and I was into him. I chose to ignore the fact that he had just broken up with his girlfriend of three years and chose to ignore the fact that I could possibly be just a rebound girl. Needless to say, come time to move back into the dorms in January, he did not feel the same. I went on a ridiculous drama, angst depression, which I’m sure scared the shit out of him. It was not his fault, I blame it on twenty years of rejection, ridicule, and self-loathing. I have to say, it was not a fun year.

Boy #3: T
While in my Master's program last year, I met T. We’d been chatting in class and on the bus and was getting to feel like he might be flirting with me. So one day I grew balls and asked him to meet me after work for drinks. Shockingly, he said yes. Drinks were good, conversation was good, and we ended up getting dinner. When we said bye, he said “see ya in class?” and I asked him what he was doing that weekend. So we made tentative plans to hang out and soon were emailing constantly that week, flirting all the while. He came down to my neck of the woods and we went to dinner and then out to a bar for drinks. I got a little tipsy, shocker, and we ended up making out on my couch. Well, I couldn’t get comfortable, so we moved into the bedroom where we continued to hook up. After a while, he stopped me and said that he wanted to let me know that he didn’t want to get involved in anything serious because he just got out of a long relationship. I was so pissed. I don’t know why he agreed to go out with me in the first place. What the fuck? I know it was probably my own fault for being so easy, but I just couldn't help it. It had been what? 5 YEARS since I was interested in a guy, and I'm sorry, but I have some needs too ya know!

So that's it, my pathetic history with men. Well, not all of it. There is one thing I haven't confessed. I'm not a virgin, at least not as of one year ago today. I'm not proud of it. at. all. This is what I do remember. It all happened the day of a beer festival that I went to with A, her sister, and her sister's boyfriend. Mind you, this was about a week or two after T totally rejected me. First, we thought it would be a good idea to smoke pot beforehand...bad idea. So by the time we arrived at the festival, we were already toasted. Four quick beers later, I was ridiculously trashed. I remember getting beers, going to the porto-potties, hanging out with my friends. Then on one trip to the bathrooms, I met Andrew (I don't mind using his name because, well, you'll see). I have no idea how I started talking to him or what made him want to keep talking to me, but for the rest of the time, we were attached at the hip. He was a financial adviser from Philadelphia up on business. He went to Villanova. He was Polish, with a Polish last name, which I cannot remember. At some point we started kissing while we were at the festival. This is where it gets foggy. I proceeded to black out multiple times. I have no recollection of leaving the festival without telling my friends, getting a cab with him, and coming back to my apt. I also don’t remember leaving my purse in the cab, which had my keys and cell phone in it. No worries, I broke into my apartment, apparently my door is easy to push open. Then, the next thing I remember is having sex with him in my bed. It hurt. A lot. I bled everywhere. We used lube, but not a condom. I can’t figure that one out since I had just bought a pack of condoms just in case I was ever in this predicament. I don’t remember if I asked him to stop or if he even finished. The whole thing is so fast in my mind. The next thing I remember after that is him dressed sitting on my living room chair calling for a cab. I wish I could remember more, but maybe it’s better that I don’t. I took a morning after pill, just in case, and got tested for everything under the sun. Luckily, I'm ok. I don’t know what I was doing, I don't know if it was a reaction to being rejected, if it was just dumb drunkenness, I'm not sure. I'm not proud of it. I wish I could forget it all. I mean, I don't remember a lot of it, and what I do remember doesn't even seem like reality. It's almost like it didn't happen. Almost.

I haven't kissed, dated, or even really engaged in conversation with a guy since then. I really don't see the point. I think I've resigned myself to spinsterhood. I think it'll just be easier.

I might delete this post.