Okay, technically this should be episode two, but since the first solo excursion wasn't actually planned, I'm not going to count it. Also, I'm not entirely sure I would actually advise going out by oneself unless you're fairly certain that you're going to run into friends or people who you kinda sorta get along with.
The main reason for this is that I don't find these solo outings to be all that fun. I can handle going to the movies by myself because I'm there to watch a movie, and hence not really there to meet anyone or socialize. But even in that scenario, I'm usually the only single dumbass in the theater, so yay me. And I'm not writing this for the pity ("Awww...that's sooo sad... You poor lonely f***. Don't you have any friends? A boyfriend? A girlfriend? We won't judge...lol...j/k..."), or to be applauded for my "bravery" ("Brava! I could never do what you do, you brave, brave soul. You must be super confident! You went out and willingly surrounded yourself with hot, skinny chicks and happy couples who just can't keep their hands and lips off of each other. Sooo brave!"). Yeah, I get it. I'm a friggin' role model and saint over here. Real groundbreaking stuff I'm doing. Changing the world by planting my derriere in a different club or bar once every two weeks and downing one cocktail after another. No, this is just mainly a way for me to process these types of experiences, maybe someone else out there can identify with this (and of course, one/some/all of the other entries), and who knows, it might be somewhat entertaining to some of you (even though this really isn't a super funny story...sorry...I was going to go to a sex convention last month, and as entertaining and interesting as that potentially could have been, I just couldn't find the motivation to do it). And if you wind up pitying or admiring me, that's fine (I guess), but that's not really the main goal of this entry.
Anyways, this was actually supposed to be posted last weekend, but then I just didn't get around to it. Or maybe I was just too lazy...I don't really remember anymore. So, what exactly does a lone wolf do on a Friday night? Well, for starters, she goes to a street food event that is being held right outside of a night club. This part was fairly easy because there weren't really any people out there that night. As it turns out, very few enjoy eating street food outside in late November when it's cold and raining. Obviously, I do. Unfortunately, I wasn't too thrilled with the selection available and I had other plans and I wasn't even really hungry, but if you're planning on boozing it up later on, even if you're more voluptuous like I am, you still need something to help delay the absorption of all that alcohol that you're planning on consuming. Sooo, tacos and fried ice cream it was for me. While both were good, the tacos weren't necessarily the wisest choice since they served them with red onions and I could smell those on my fingers for hours and multiple hand washes after the fact. In addition to that, I had my first cocktail of the night, which was good, but clearly not strong enough because I pretty much downed it in five minutes at the most. In fact, I had to pace myself...which is probably one of the reasons why I should always go out with at least one other person. If I have a distraction, I won't drink as quickly, which is somewhat weird because people usually complain that I eat and drink way too slowly. It's true. Ask anyone who has had the pleasure of eating/drinking in my presence. And don't say, "Well, that's a good thing. You'll eat less because your body will realize it's full before you overeat, so you'll gain less weight." Soooo, my slow eating is preventing me from being fat? Oh wait... But the drink was delicious and as tempted as I was to try another one called "69," which just has my name all over it...what?! I'm a Cancer, 69 is the sign of the crab! How believable is that excuse?...I did want to make it to the downtown area in time for ladies' night. Unfortunately, it dawned on me that standing in the dark...by myself...next to the abandoned brothel...while waiting for the bus was both kind of funny and not very smart. Oh well, life is risk, right? hehehe... (I'm kidding...I would not advise for a single female to be standing alone in the dark next to a brothel, abandoned or not. I do it because it's me. And I realize that that's an unsatisfactory explanation.)
As for ladies' night, I was expecting there to be a line standing out the door waiting to be let in at that particular bar/restaurant/club, only to discover that I was one of the few schmucks to show up on time (on time = 10 p.m.). Okay, now what?! Was that a rookie move on my part?! I don't get out much, okay?! Nobody teaches you this shit! *ahem* Where was I? Oh yeah...a singleton at ladies' night. (I'm not sure I can use that word quite like that, but it is still very appropriate...and some of you will get why.) I was a bit surprised and intrigued by this fairly sizeable group of goths in front of me, and was kind of hoping that they were all going to the club to drink and dance too, but they really only wanted to sit down and eat burgers, which was disappointing... It also seemed that not only did people not want to party when the event started, but that the club itself wasn't even ready for potential partiers at 10. Because it's just not cool or sexy to be on time, I guess. Befitting the theme of ladies' night, they had pink lights that threw images of pink kitties (do I really have to explain the choice of cats?) up on the wall and a disco ball and last year's Victoria's Secret Fashion Show playing on a big screen. Of course, seeing a group of the most attractive and svelte women in the universe on repeat several times throughout the night did wonders for my self-esteem... *tugs on sweater* I mean, I do kinda sorta like the show, but I also don't at the same time. I'm a very confused individual, I know. Since I was one of the first women to show up (who are we kidding? I was THE first one there...loser...), I got a free welcome drink...which was so sugary, it actually gave me cramps. Super sexy... Now, I'm guessing that that's because the considerate organizers were doing us chicks a favor by mixing in some type of super artificially sweet diet soda so that we could control the amount of empty calories that we would wind up inhaling over the course of the night. I don't know why because I ordered a vodka and coke before I was even done with that cocktail. As for the music, it was pretty good (at least in the beginning) and it certainly helped that the DJ was fairly easy on the eyes, not that you could really see that much of him. And no, I wasn't interested in him. Knowing my luck he would've wound up being only 21 or something like that, which is adorable, but most people that age still have quite a bit of maturing to do. But it was smart to hire a fairly attractive male DJ for a ladies' night, even though one could also argue the point of hiring a female one as well.
Even though I wasn't on the verge of tears (like I had been during a previous lonesome night out on the town), I was hyperaware of my outsider status. There was one other person who was alone - a middle-aged guy who was drinking a beer - but I think he really just wanted to be by himself and promptly left after more people showed up. Other than that, I was the only person who was stupid enough to be out by herself. There were a lot of women who showed up in pairs of two, some in groups of three and more, there were of course the friends/groupies of the DJ, the couples, and female-male-female threesomes (don't get too excited, the guys in those types of groupings weren't really digging the whole "ladies" part of the ladies' night). The most noteworthy and bizarre group I saw was one that I'll just call the patchwork gang. This was probably the biggest gathering of people, but they were also very random. What makes me say this? Well, because there was no more or less uniform dress code. If you hadn't seen them slowly assemble bit by bit, you wouldn't have been able to tell that they all knew each other. They all seemed to surround this one young woman who was dressed like she just got back from a friggin' movie premiere and wasn't able to change out of her evening gown. Or maybe she simply thought she was attending the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty. And I know that the Oscars aren't until the beginning of next year, I'm just trying to paint a picture, okay? She was there with two other women and one man who appeared to have just returned from an insurance convention since they were all dressed in black office attire. Maybe they were Miss Hayworth's assistants? (I'm kidding...I like Rita Hayworth, but her styling was vaguely reminiscent of that era.) In addition to that, there was a guy who initially looked like he was one of the servers because he was dressed in a simple black sweater and pants, but considering how much time he spent with that group, I wound up thinking that he was a personal bodyguard...until he kissed the chick in the eveningwear. Granted, he could still be the bodyguard or driver or both (or maybe even a gigolo, I don't know), and maybe she was fulfilling a sexual fantasy of being Whitney Houston in The Bodyguard. I'm not judging, I'm just guessing and trying to make sense out of the whole situation. More than likely, he's probably just the boyfriend (/bodyguard/driver/bouncer/etc.). And as if that weren't bizarre enough, they were all later joined by a group of frat boys. I don't know how they all know each other or if they just wound up being stuck to each other on the way to da club like a bunch of magnets, but it was really one of the most bizarre groupings I have ever seen in my life.
Of course, the other people there would probably say the same about me. Yes, that I'm one of the most bizarre groupings (of atoms) they have ever seen in their lives... It does seem that at least in a university town like Heidelberg, you just don't see a woman (or anyone for that matter, unless you're a middle-aged guy heading to the bar after work) going out by themselves. Therefore, I was stared at a lot...and not in an "Oh my gosh...I'm super intrigued, let me get to know you"-way either. It was more in a "Did you get lost?/Dafuq are you doing here?/Didn't we kill all of your kind?"-way. I mean, look people. Not all of us are so lucky that we have friends who are always available, some of them have families of their own, some of them have partners to sleep with, others live too far away. Not all of us are lucky enough to have someone in our lives who's so willing to f*** us that he'll let us schlepp him to friggin' ladies' night. Not all of us have been blessed with hot bods and gorgeous faces that have men falling all over themselves to wife us up before someone else does, but we still want to be able to have a tiny bit of fun and be able to say that for once we didn't get wasted in the privacy of our own homes because that suddenly makes everyone think you're a budding alcoholic. (It's a joke...I can't afford to get wasted all the time, not even in the privacy of my own apartment. It's too expensive and too many calories. I don't need to wake up and walk around with bloated hamster face every single day. Only hamsters look cute with hamster face. Fine...some people look cute with hamster face too.) So, if everyone could do people like me a kindness and not stare and then whisper and giggle about us with your friends or partners/bed buddies, that would be great. You can give me a quick once-over, but unless you're planning on striking up a conversation with me, just don't stare. Not only is it rude and potentially hurtful and threatening, I'm doing my darndest to not make you feel uncomfortable or judge you either, so you could easily extend me the same courtesy, especially since you're actually out with other people and in a far less vulnerable position.
All in all, it wasn't terrible, but it also wasn't fun. For me. Who knows...maybe if I repeatedly expose myself to these types of situations, I'll become more comfortable and actually learn to find them enjoyable, but I'm not sure if and when I'll do something like this again. I'm also not entirely certain that the energy that I have to put into these excursions is actually worth the exhaustion, anxiety and discomfort that I feel before/during/afterward. There are better uses of my time than throwing myself at the mercy of wolves.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Friday, November 06, 2015
The Muse
Another night on the town, another bar packed with strangers... Why this was my friends' idea of fun, or why they would think that I might find it enjoyable, I have no idea. Actually, that's not entirely true, my friends think that they're doing me a favor by dragging me off to some bar or club so I can hook up with some chick who won't be able to remember most of what happened anyway. It's not like I have a problem with the ladies, I'm a decent-looking guy, but I don't really see the point of having sex just to have had sex...especially not with someone who needs at least half a dozen shots of tequila to "loosen up". Besides, most of the women just wind up looking at me like I'm some brainless hunk of meat. Some of them use gender equality as an excuse, as in "Men constantly ogle at women, so why can't we do the same", whereas others just don't care or have their own little reasons for approaching me.
So, here I am...putting on a good show for da boyz. Be it in the name of solidarity, in the name of bromance, whatever...I just go through the motions. Smiling, laughing, pretending to listen to their stupid jokes and anecdotes, pretending to scan the room for a pretty face, drowning in the sea of laughter and idle conversation. "Ayo bro! Are you gonna drink that or what?! Or are you already narrowing down the list of honeys you wanna hunt down later?" "Hey...what about that one cute brunette we saw over by the dancefloor when we walked in?" "Dude no, did you see how big her entourage is? She ain't here to play. At least not with us." "Maybe if we can find a trio, Mark and I can distract two of them while you disappear with the third to a more private location." "Yeah, but let's make sure we find some quality chicks this time, okay?"
Blablablabbitybla... I like my friends...I do, but sometimes...okay, a lot of times...I just have to tune them out. For the sake of my own sanity, of course. Fine...so I'll look at the ladies present tonight...each and every one beautiful in her own right. Dolled up, wearing their prettiest clothes, some here on girls' night out, some here to unwind after a hectic work week, some just here for a bit of youthful fun, some here to hunt and play. And that's when my eyes fall on her...sitting at the bar...possibly the rarest of sights for this kind of place. All alone with only a vodka soda to keep her company, she seems to be scanning the room for something and yet nothing at the same time. Her body posture exudes an extraordinary level of cool and casualness, while giving off the vibe that she is in no mood to play games of any kind or with anyone. Some people stare, especially other women...and why not? She isn't adhering to some unwritten code, she simply doesn't fit. Like an errant puzzle piece, she is upsetting some kind of balance, breaking some imaginary law of nature, but in the most delicious way possible. How dare she not conform? How dare she not play along? She is the lonesome wolf refusing to operate according to the pack mentality. Through her mere presence she seems to be defying all of the superficiality and bullshit. She isn't here for them, she isn't here for me, she is just here.
I can't help it, I feel drawn to her. To her alabaster skin that reflects the blue and pink lights from the dancefloor. To her hair that is just the right amount of disheveled. To her lips that are just plump and pink enough. But especially to her eyes. They seem to be able to cut right through to the center of one's very being. Despite that meticulously-crafted tough and cool exterior, I can still see her pain and sadness, and I can't help but want to take her away. Away from these people, away from this bar, away from whatever might be hurting her. I wan't to be selfish and tell her about my feelings and what I see when I look at her. And so I find myself walking towards her with the greatest of ease. It's almost as if I'm not moving at all and the universe is merely shifting around me. Ignoring the ramblings of my friends, the glances from other people... As I get closer, I can see her eyes turn sideways ever so slightly. Great, she realizes that I'm approaching. Now what? Sure, I could always turn back...and look like a moron...but no, there's no turning back now. Come hell or high water, I will talk to her, I will at least try to get to know her. It's now or never, do or die, deep breaths, don't look like you're about to have a stroke, smile...but gently, you don't want her to call the cops...here goes nothing... "Hi..."
So, here I am...putting on a good show for da boyz. Be it in the name of solidarity, in the name of bromance, whatever...I just go through the motions. Smiling, laughing, pretending to listen to their stupid jokes and anecdotes, pretending to scan the room for a pretty face, drowning in the sea of laughter and idle conversation. "Ayo bro! Are you gonna drink that or what?! Or are you already narrowing down the list of honeys you wanna hunt down later?" "Hey...what about that one cute brunette we saw over by the dancefloor when we walked in?" "Dude no, did you see how big her entourage is? She ain't here to play. At least not with us." "Maybe if we can find a trio, Mark and I can distract two of them while you disappear with the third to a more private location." "Yeah, but let's make sure we find some quality chicks this time, okay?"
Blablablabbitybla... I like my friends...I do, but sometimes...okay, a lot of times...I just have to tune them out. For the sake of my own sanity, of course. Fine...so I'll look at the ladies present tonight...each and every one beautiful in her own right. Dolled up, wearing their prettiest clothes, some here on girls' night out, some here to unwind after a hectic work week, some just here for a bit of youthful fun, some here to hunt and play. And that's when my eyes fall on her...sitting at the bar...possibly the rarest of sights for this kind of place. All alone with only a vodka soda to keep her company, she seems to be scanning the room for something and yet nothing at the same time. Her body posture exudes an extraordinary level of cool and casualness, while giving off the vibe that she is in no mood to play games of any kind or with anyone. Some people stare, especially other women...and why not? She isn't adhering to some unwritten code, she simply doesn't fit. Like an errant puzzle piece, she is upsetting some kind of balance, breaking some imaginary law of nature, but in the most delicious way possible. How dare she not conform? How dare she not play along? She is the lonesome wolf refusing to operate according to the pack mentality. Through her mere presence she seems to be defying all of the superficiality and bullshit. She isn't here for them, she isn't here for me, she is just here.
I can't help it, I feel drawn to her. To her alabaster skin that reflects the blue and pink lights from the dancefloor. To her hair that is just the right amount of disheveled. To her lips that are just plump and pink enough. But especially to her eyes. They seem to be able to cut right through to the center of one's very being. Despite that meticulously-crafted tough and cool exterior, I can still see her pain and sadness, and I can't help but want to take her away. Away from these people, away from this bar, away from whatever might be hurting her. I wan't to be selfish and tell her about my feelings and what I see when I look at her. And so I find myself walking towards her with the greatest of ease. It's almost as if I'm not moving at all and the universe is merely shifting around me. Ignoring the ramblings of my friends, the glances from other people... As I get closer, I can see her eyes turn sideways ever so slightly. Great, she realizes that I'm approaching. Now what? Sure, I could always turn back...and look like a moron...but no, there's no turning back now. Come hell or high water, I will talk to her, I will at least try to get to know her. It's now or never, do or die, deep breaths, don't look like you're about to have a stroke, smile...but gently, you don't want her to call the cops...here goes nothing... "Hi..."
Thursday, November 05, 2015
Just another one of those days...
Today was just another one of those days... With no real trigger or cause I simply found myself fighting against the building pressure time and time again...and losing time and time again. Looking up to the skies (or apartment ceiling) I just felt the tears fall down my face and neck. I'm not entirely sure why I bothered to look up. Was it to pray to the heavens or universe for some kind of relief? Was I looking to somehow ease the pressure? Maybe I was just trying to prevent myself from looking like a complete mess afterwards by letting the fluid flow downward and out of my face.
I could feel my right hand clutched firmly around my throat. Not enough to choke myself in earnest, but just enough to make me feel the pressure. A pressure that was meant to be oddly calming, to counteract the pressure I was feeling on the inside. This lasted for a few seconds, until I could feel my breathing steady itself. And so I removed the hand, only to feel the next wave of sadness rise up inside of me.
They say that crying is supposed to make one feel better and provide relief, but I think that people who say that have never had to wonder when the crying will stop. I've always felt like the tears and sadness were threatening to tear me apart. As if the pain of a thousand souls were weighing on you and had yet somehow infiltrated your very being at the same time. Impending doom and destruction pulling and tugging and yet pushing and tearing away at you...it's no wonder that I try to avoid crying. The fear that it might all overpower me and finally push me over the edge and cause my whole being to be ripped apart has probably helped me build up such a strong resistance that the tears hurt more than they should.
Of course, there's also the issue of pride and dignity. Who would want to see someone like me cry? Nobody should be subjected to the sight of me period, let alone the sight of me in a vulnerable state like this. So, these were the days when I shut myself in and locked myself away from the world, even though these were the days when I needed people the most.
Getting up, I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The tear-streaked face drained of all color, the soaked eyelashes reflecting the light of the lamp, the bloodshot whites of the eyes turning the irises into brilliant emeralds shimmering in a sea of red. From a more objective point of view, one might almost say that there was an incredible beauty to my misery and despair.
As I get ready for bed, I can't help but feel relief that the end of another one of those days has finally come to an end, for the few hours of sleep will hopefully give me a chance to recover from my inner turmoil. And as a final thought, all I can think is that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow will not be another one of those days...
I could feel my right hand clutched firmly around my throat. Not enough to choke myself in earnest, but just enough to make me feel the pressure. A pressure that was meant to be oddly calming, to counteract the pressure I was feeling on the inside. This lasted for a few seconds, until I could feel my breathing steady itself. And so I removed the hand, only to feel the next wave of sadness rise up inside of me.
They say that crying is supposed to make one feel better and provide relief, but I think that people who say that have never had to wonder when the crying will stop. I've always felt like the tears and sadness were threatening to tear me apart. As if the pain of a thousand souls were weighing on you and had yet somehow infiltrated your very being at the same time. Impending doom and destruction pulling and tugging and yet pushing and tearing away at you...it's no wonder that I try to avoid crying. The fear that it might all overpower me and finally push me over the edge and cause my whole being to be ripped apart has probably helped me build up such a strong resistance that the tears hurt more than they should.
Of course, there's also the issue of pride and dignity. Who would want to see someone like me cry? Nobody should be subjected to the sight of me period, let alone the sight of me in a vulnerable state like this. So, these were the days when I shut myself in and locked myself away from the world, even though these were the days when I needed people the most.
Getting up, I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The tear-streaked face drained of all color, the soaked eyelashes reflecting the light of the lamp, the bloodshot whites of the eyes turning the irises into brilliant emeralds shimmering in a sea of red. From a more objective point of view, one might almost say that there was an incredible beauty to my misery and despair.
As I get ready for bed, I can't help but feel relief that the end of another one of those days has finally come to an end, for the few hours of sleep will hopefully give me a chance to recover from my inner turmoil. And as a final thought, all I can think is that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow will not be another one of those days...
Wednesday, April 01, 2015
People and the irritating things they do/don't do
Because I can't seem to stop ranting, even though I'm feeling better now than I did yesterday. (That might just be because I finally got a certain someone to respond to my text messages though...don't know.) I would just like to say that this isn't directed at anyone in particular...but someone in particular did help to inspire this rant just a bit...and I know that I've been guilty of this as well (or at least a variation thereof) and am trying to correct this habit. Now, I pride myself on saying what I mean...99.9% of the time at least...so it really frustrates me when I realize that there are people out there and in my very own social circle who either can't or won't extend me the same courtesy. One of those is the issue of the infamous phrases "We should get together sometime!/Oh, we live so close to each other! Let's hang out for coffee!/You should come visit me sometime!/I would really love to come visit you!" I know that (some of) these are sometimes said just to be nice and are used to mask a request/favor, in which case, do us both a favor and drop it. If you want something from me, just be direct about it because I will figure out that that's the maneuver you just pulled and it will and does piss me off. Of course, I'm sure that most of you are actually being sincere (or trying to be), but then life steps in and somehow mucks everything up. That I get and can respect. My depression and anxiety sometimes make me not want to see people either. Either that, or my lack of finances prevents me from traveling around. Or the stress from my studies. Sometimes it's any combination or even all of the above. However, please try to not bring up visits or hanging out unless you genuinely want to see and spend time with me, but aren't willing to put in at least some effort into the scheduling of these activities/events. Because I'm willing to work with you to a certain extent, but if you leave the scheduling up to me, only to shoot down any and every suggested place and date and not make your own suggestions, then guess what? At some point, not only will I not want to do anything with you anymore, I will also come to resent you. This pertains to varying degrees to both my platonic and more intimate relationships. I actually find it more infuriating when a potential romantic/intimate partner pulls off shit like this. Because I do really expect those people to say what they mean and mean what they say. More so than what I would from a platonic friend. There is nothing more aggravating to me than to have someone say how much they want to see and be close to me, only to then not fully respond to actually setting up plans for something like that. I mean, that is just beyond cruel and unusual punishment for someone who hasn't been intimate with anyone for the past seven years. That's like luring a hibernating bear out of its slumber with the promise of fresh salmon, only to jerk all of the fish away at the last second. Now, nobody in his/her right mind would do that to a sleeping bear and yet people seem to think it's okay to do that to me. Except that we're talking about sex and not salmon...and I'm not a sleeping bear, but I might be at least as dangerous as one. This also makes me understand what part of the appeal of having multiple partners might be. If you really like someone and they like you, but they can somehow never find time to spend with you, then what? Well, maybe instead of moping around, it's simply easier to bury one's sorrows and frustrations in the affections of another person. It sucks and it's the easy way out and I most certainly wouldn't advise it once in a committed relationship (assuming it's not an open or polyamorous one), not to mention that I really dislike the idea because I like focusing on one person and one person alone (and I think that multiple partners are ultimately more trouble than they're worth...or maybe I'm just jealous because I can't even get laid by one person)...but I get the potential appeal.
Anyways, I would just really really appreciate it if people stopped putting ideas of social and/or intimate activities in my head, only to not follow through with them. It would make my life a whole lot easier and, by extension, everyone else's as well because then I wouldn't wind up having to drive some of you people crazy with my incessant messages of "When can I come see you?/When would you like to come over?/What are your plans this weekend?/etc."
Oh well, that's it from my end for today. Thanks to everyone who read this rant, and thanks to everyone who didn't! Like I said, I'm sure I've managed to aggravate people doing things similar to the ones I just complained about, and I am trying to work on them. Should you ever notice me stepping into my own traps, feel free to let me know. And no, this doesn't mean that I have a person lined up for each day of the week, Miss Bettina don't play like that, but I get why some people might.
Until next time (which will hopefully be sooner rather than later)!
Anyways, I would just really really appreciate it if people stopped putting ideas of social and/or intimate activities in my head, only to not follow through with them. It would make my life a whole lot easier and, by extension, everyone else's as well because then I wouldn't wind up having to drive some of you people crazy with my incessant messages of "When can I come see you?/When would you like to come over?/What are your plans this weekend?/etc."
Oh well, that's it from my end for today. Thanks to everyone who read this rant, and thanks to everyone who didn't! Like I said, I'm sure I've managed to aggravate people doing things similar to the ones I just complained about, and I am trying to work on them. Should you ever notice me stepping into my own traps, feel free to let me know. And no, this doesn't mean that I have a person lined up for each day of the week, Miss Bettina don't play like that, but I get why some people might.
Until next time (which will hopefully be sooner rather than later)!
Tuesday, December 09, 2014
B's Soapbox: Self-love and self-acceptance
So, this is just something that came to me after I read the latest email from one of my friends, but hopefully it might speak to a few more of you guys:
It's always incredibly painful for me to hear friends say that they think they're unattractive or undesirable or unloveable...and yes, I get it that all of this could be applied to me as well. Hearing them say stuff like that is like a dagger to my heart because it's just not true, and ultimately, it's just poison for the soul. Because my dear friends, you're not unattractive or undesirable or unloveable. You're fine and perfect just the way you are and don't let anyone, including yourself, tell you any differently. You have every right to be loved, every right to be desired physically/mentally/emotionally, by both yourself and someone else. And just because you feel worthless and unattractive, either all the time or just when you're having a bad day/week/month/year, don't allow yourself and other people to treat you that way. Nobody should settle for someone who treats them like shit, like they're replaceable (because you are unique and that's the way it should be), like they're just another notch on the bedpost. Even if you feel like you've hit rockbottom and you deserve to be punished by living forever alone, or worse, spending the rest of your days with someone who neither cares about nor respects you, it's not true.
Trust me, I've been there. I have been in abusive friendships just because I thought that no one else would want to be my friend otherwise. I have done certain things that I knew were wrong and that made me hate myself just because I wanted to belong. I mean, I still catch myself saying incredibly horrible and hurtful things about myself from time to time. Granted, I'm working on not doing that anymore, or nearly as much, but it's still difficult. Loving, or even just liking and respecting, yourself isn't easy. Well, maybe for some of you it is. In that case, I salute you and you are obviously a better, more well-adjusted person than I am. As for the rest of you, most worthwhile and important things don't necessarily come easily. It sucks, I know, but just try to make the effort.
Because you are perfect just the way you are. With all your quirks and supposed flaws. With your perfect or not-so-perfect physiques. Each and every single one of you. So what if they don't invite you to their party because you're too quiet. They're missing out on your awesomeness and wicked sense of humor. So what if she laughs in your face when you tell her you like her because she thinks you're a complete loser for playing games like D&D. It's her loss because she'll never know what a good listener you are, that you'll take care of her when she's sick, that you'll hold her when she cries, or that you'll take care of all her physical and emotional needs. So what if he criticizes your body the first time he sees you naked. He's neither worth your time nor does he deserve to look upon your glorious body. You just do you, be the best you you can be, and know that there is at least one person who accepts you for who you are.
Thanks for reading and I'm going to get off of my soapbox now...well, at least until I find something else that I feel needs to be talked about.
It's always incredibly painful for me to hear friends say that they think they're unattractive or undesirable or unloveable...and yes, I get it that all of this could be applied to me as well. Hearing them say stuff like that is like a dagger to my heart because it's just not true, and ultimately, it's just poison for the soul. Because my dear friends, you're not unattractive or undesirable or unloveable. You're fine and perfect just the way you are and don't let anyone, including yourself, tell you any differently. You have every right to be loved, every right to be desired physically/mentally/emotionally, by both yourself and someone else. And just because you feel worthless and unattractive, either all the time or just when you're having a bad day/week/month/year, don't allow yourself and other people to treat you that way. Nobody should settle for someone who treats them like shit, like they're replaceable (because you are unique and that's the way it should be), like they're just another notch on the bedpost. Even if you feel like you've hit rockbottom and you deserve to be punished by living forever alone, or worse, spending the rest of your days with someone who neither cares about nor respects you, it's not true.
Trust me, I've been there. I have been in abusive friendships just because I thought that no one else would want to be my friend otherwise. I have done certain things that I knew were wrong and that made me hate myself just because I wanted to belong. I mean, I still catch myself saying incredibly horrible and hurtful things about myself from time to time. Granted, I'm working on not doing that anymore, or nearly as much, but it's still difficult. Loving, or even just liking and respecting, yourself isn't easy. Well, maybe for some of you it is. In that case, I salute you and you are obviously a better, more well-adjusted person than I am. As for the rest of you, most worthwhile and important things don't necessarily come easily. It sucks, I know, but just try to make the effort.
Because you are perfect just the way you are. With all your quirks and supposed flaws. With your perfect or not-so-perfect physiques. Each and every single one of you. So what if they don't invite you to their party because you're too quiet. They're missing out on your awesomeness and wicked sense of humor. So what if she laughs in your face when you tell her you like her because she thinks you're a complete loser for playing games like D&D. It's her loss because she'll never know what a good listener you are, that you'll take care of her when she's sick, that you'll hold her when she cries, or that you'll take care of all her physical and emotional needs. So what if he criticizes your body the first time he sees you naked. He's neither worth your time nor does he deserve to look upon your glorious body. You just do you, be the best you you can be, and know that there is at least one person who accepts you for who you are.
Thanks for reading and I'm going to get off of my soapbox now...well, at least until I find something else that I feel needs to be talked about.
Wednesday, July 09, 2014
Stuff I've read: Abortion and the Culture of Shame
I've decided to start a new segment (is segment the right word for this? Maybe series? Doesn't really matter, it's my blog after all.) and it's going to be about various articles I've read. Assuming that I have a lot to say about them. Otherwise, I might wind up overloading the newsfeeds of my friends on FB. I know, I know...you all want to know about my online dating adventures, but I'm just not really in the mood to talk about them right now.
For the first entry of this segment/series I will dive right into the deep side of the pool. Why? Because I'm obviously not the most sane person and seemingly enjoy making people feel uncomfortable. Not really...but sometimes it can be fun and sometimes it is necessary. The topic of abortion belongs to the latter of the two. I read this article on how Texas has created a "culture of shame" when it comes to the topic of abortion, and honestly, it makes me upset. It saddens and angers me. Not just as a woman, but also as a human being. So, is everyone ready for a rant? Oh, and rules about comments (not that I've ever had a problem with them before, but just to be safe...): Let's not get ugly or hateful here, okay? I have to sift through them anyways before they get published, and I would hate to have to delete them. Anyways...let the ranting commence! *cue the trumpets and horns*
*ahem* It's one thing to believe something and have an opinion, but it's a completely different issue to be judgmental and try to force your beliefs on the rest of humanity. For all I care, you can believe in the Great Jewel-Encrusted Bunny in the Sky, but unless I'm interested in converting, don't tell me that it wants me to live my life a certain way. While I do believe that some Christians mean well with being against abortion, I think that most just jumped on the bandwagon and are hiding behind their beliefs to justify their behavior and to exert control over a group of people. Now, I'm not saying that all Christians are like this. I'm also not saying that any of you guys are like this, but a great number of people are. In addition to that, you can still be against abortion, but it's none of your business whether or not a woman chooses to end her pregnancy. Personally, I think abortion should be a last resort and should only happen after the woman has undergone proper counseling to ensure that she has thought this through extensively. And I know what some of you are going to say: There's always adoption! Yes, this is true, but with so many children already going hungry (even in the States) and being neglected by the system and mainstream society (and don't even look at me like that...because it's true), they really aren't that much better off. Oh, and what about that issue of practicing safe sex? Well, let's see...with so much abstinence-only sex ed and the ability to refuse that one's hormonally-addled child receive a well-balanced sex ed or to provide them with one oneself, I can see how one would be confused. Because naturally all children are born with the knowledge of what condoms and pregnancy are... One can't have it both ways! But that's right, religion generally doesn't permit for safe sex or abortions, does it? Do I really have to tell everyone about how religious books like the Bible were written by men, as in mortal men...made out of flesh and blood (and I don't care that God is listed as the author of the King James Bible!)? Even if deities took the time to either personally contribute to or indirectly inspire the authors to write those books, they aren't necessarily the most up-to-date with modern society. Ways of thinking that worked hundreds/thousands of years ago don't or can't be applied to today's society. Just like our current ways of thinking won't necessarily be relevant in the next 50-100 years.
As for the "culture of shame"? The main reason why these women feel regret or wind up becoming traumatized is because of the way mainstream society condemns them for making such a tough decision. Maybe people should ask them why they made the decision they made before they jump to any conclusions, but people tend to be lazy when it comes to things like that. Everything has to be black and white, one extreme or another, otherwise people have to utilize their brains more and thinking's oh-so-hard. (And yes, I'm mad.) Here's a newsflash: Reality consists of millions of shades of grey...or just plain 50. (I know! Focus! Serious topic...)
I just have a bit of advice for everyone, and if you decide to disregard everything else I just wrote, please, please keep this in mind: Try to focus more on being a decent human being and a little bit less on being a good follower of whatever religion you belong to. You are a human first and foremost and everything else should come in second/third/fourth/etc. We all deserve to be loved and treated with respect and kindness. If you do that, I'm sure that your deities will still thank and reward you, even if you didn't follow their teachings as strictly as you "should" have.
There, I'm done. Now get outta here before we all hug and kiss and braid each other's hair.
Until next time...assuming I haven't thoroughly scared everyone off...
For the first entry of this segment/series I will dive right into the deep side of the pool. Why? Because I'm obviously not the most sane person and seemingly enjoy making people feel uncomfortable. Not really...but sometimes it can be fun and sometimes it is necessary. The topic of abortion belongs to the latter of the two. I read this article on how Texas has created a "culture of shame" when it comes to the topic of abortion, and honestly, it makes me upset. It saddens and angers me. Not just as a woman, but also as a human being. So, is everyone ready for a rant? Oh, and rules about comments (not that I've ever had a problem with them before, but just to be safe...): Let's not get ugly or hateful here, okay? I have to sift through them anyways before they get published, and I would hate to have to delete them. Anyways...let the ranting commence! *cue the trumpets and horns*
*ahem* It's one thing to believe something and have an opinion, but it's a completely different issue to be judgmental and try to force your beliefs on the rest of humanity. For all I care, you can believe in the Great Jewel-Encrusted Bunny in the Sky, but unless I'm interested in converting, don't tell me that it wants me to live my life a certain way. While I do believe that some Christians mean well with being against abortion, I think that most just jumped on the bandwagon and are hiding behind their beliefs to justify their behavior and to exert control over a group of people. Now, I'm not saying that all Christians are like this. I'm also not saying that any of you guys are like this, but a great number of people are. In addition to that, you can still be against abortion, but it's none of your business whether or not a woman chooses to end her pregnancy. Personally, I think abortion should be a last resort and should only happen after the woman has undergone proper counseling to ensure that she has thought this through extensively. And I know what some of you are going to say: There's always adoption! Yes, this is true, but with so many children already going hungry (even in the States) and being neglected by the system and mainstream society (and don't even look at me like that...because it's true), they really aren't that much better off. Oh, and what about that issue of practicing safe sex? Well, let's see...with so much abstinence-only sex ed and the ability to refuse that one's hormonally-addled child receive a well-balanced sex ed or to provide them with one oneself, I can see how one would be confused. Because naturally all children are born with the knowledge of what condoms and pregnancy are... One can't have it both ways! But that's right, religion generally doesn't permit for safe sex or abortions, does it? Do I really have to tell everyone about how religious books like the Bible were written by men, as in mortal men...made out of flesh and blood (and I don't care that God is listed as the author of the King James Bible!)? Even if deities took the time to either personally contribute to or indirectly inspire the authors to write those books, they aren't necessarily the most up-to-date with modern society. Ways of thinking that worked hundreds/thousands of years ago don't or can't be applied to today's society. Just like our current ways of thinking won't necessarily be relevant in the next 50-100 years.
As for the "culture of shame"? The main reason why these women feel regret or wind up becoming traumatized is because of the way mainstream society condemns them for making such a tough decision. Maybe people should ask them why they made the decision they made before they jump to any conclusions, but people tend to be lazy when it comes to things like that. Everything has to be black and white, one extreme or another, otherwise people have to utilize their brains more and thinking's oh-so-hard. (And yes, I'm mad.) Here's a newsflash: Reality consists of millions of shades of grey...or just plain 50. (I know! Focus! Serious topic...)
I just have a bit of advice for everyone, and if you decide to disregard everything else I just wrote, please, please keep this in mind: Try to focus more on being a decent human being and a little bit less on being a good follower of whatever religion you belong to. You are a human first and foremost and everything else should come in second/third/fourth/etc. We all deserve to be loved and treated with respect and kindness. If you do that, I'm sure that your deities will still thank and reward you, even if you didn't follow their teachings as strictly as you "should" have.
There, I'm done. Now get outta here before we all hug and kiss and braid each other's hair.
Until next time...assuming I haven't thoroughly scared everyone off...
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Online Dating (Episode Two): Observations and Tips
Yes, I am still alive and you can all rejoice because, for once, this won't be a depressing post! Yaaaay!!! Anyways...the last time I wrote about online dating I mentioned the disaster of a phone call I had with a potential date. Needless to say, that was the first and only time we talked to each other, especially since I received a message from him about one or two weeks later saying that he had fallen in love. Obviously, he managed to find someone who was better versed in the ways of conversation. So, I wish the two of them lots of happiness and plenty of not awkward talks.
Today I would like to write about the things I have noticed about myself and the men on certain dating sites.
First off, am I the only one who feels that online dating is more of a full-time job? To me it just seems that if you do online dating the way these sites advise you to, you almost have to invest a good two to three hours every day, and since I'm guessing that some people (and by some, I mean me) are signed up with more than one site, that adds up. Besides, I should be using that time to do something more productive, like study.
And yes, I have accounts on several dating sites...four to be exact. However, I'm only really active on one of them. The first one (let's call it O) I actually signed up with because they had cool personality quizzes. In fact, I signed up with them so long ago that I am still listed as being in a relationship, which is obviously a lie. It wasn't back then, but it certainly is now. I keep on forgetting that I have an account on that site until it sends me a happy birthday message. Then I decided to try the second one (Z) because I thought I was really desperate (and I liked the commercials...it happens, even to me), but then I took a look at the men using it and quickly realized that I didn't want someone that badly. Maybe that was more of a regional issue though... Site number three (E) was the first German account I set up, but I don't even really use that one anymore because I can't use all of the functions without signing up for a premium membership. As for the last one (P), I again started off with limited access, but I actually purchased the premium membership for this site since it was cheaper without giving too much up quality-wise. This last website is the one that I actually use.
So, before I continue, it's important to note that the things I'm writing about are based off of my personal experiences and opinions, and they certainly aren't representative of the population at large. If you agree with me, great, and if you don't, that's fine too. We can all agree to disagree, as long as we aren't being unreasonably aggressive and immature about it. Most of us should already be aware of this, but since you never know who might stumble across this blog, I feel that such things need to be pointed out repeatedly.
Alright, on to the main show...
I have come to realize something shocking about myself when it comes to online dating, and that is that I can be quite superficial. What I mean is that I am more lenient/tolerant/accepting towards/of guys I meet in person. For example, someone doesn't strike me as overly attractive or I'm just not feeling it, but maybe this person is extremely funny or sweet. Offline, I'll gladly date someone who is incredibly funny over someone who is extremely attractive. Or at least I'll give it a shot, whereas online dating (unfortunately) allows for me to kick the poor guy to the curb without wasting a second thought on him. (Sorry.) There seems to be a whole lot of characteristics/requirements that automatically eliminate most potential partners for me. Should I list them? So we can all witness what a bitch I really am? Now, for the record, these are things that I look for in a potential partner online since it seems that I am very discriminatory if I haven't actually met the person. Sounds weird, but it's true. You can all hate me later.
1) Non-smokers - These are very, very hard to come by in Germany. It seems that the majority of men (online) smoke, be it regularly or occasionally or just whenever they're out with friends drinking. This is actually one of the things that is (almost) non-negotiable for me, regardless of online or offline. I have too many family members who smoke, and I would prefer to not become romantically/sexually-involved with someone who smells and/or tastes like smoke. I will gladly be the bestest of buddies with you, but if you smoke, there is a 99% chance of you staying in the friend zone. Of course, should I ever meet someone who fulfilled all of my other basic desires and/or needs, but smoked, I might make an exception. However, I wouldn't count on it.
2) No children and no previous marriages - This is one of my bitchier requirements (or maybe even the bitchiest one?), but hear me out. I have witnessed and heard about too much baby mama and papa drama, so unless I've met your previous life partner and have been able to judge her (or his, you never know) character for myself, I'm going with the worst-case scenario and staying away from you. As for the children, as much as I love them and would love to be a mom at some point (maybe), I know I wouldn't just be taking on the kids. I would also be taking on the parent, assuming he/she is still alive, and again that is potentially just way too much drama for my liking. This is one of the areas that I would be quite a bit more lenient on in an offline setting. Depending on the person, I wouldn't say no to a previously married father. However, I would require meeting the former spouse and having a conversation with the children (assuming the guy still plays an active part in their lives), once the time is right, to explain the situation and answer any questions. Of course I realize that at my advanced/advancing age that finding someone who hasn't been married (at least once) and who is childless becomes increasingly impossible. So, I'm not entirely delusional, and like I said, I am quite a bit more flexible about this issue when I meet someone in person.
3) No religious affiliations (or open proclamations of political views) - I usually would never think of asking someone about their beliefs (or political views), so why would an online admission about these things deter me all of a sudden? Unless I know you fairly well, I might associate certain personality traits to you if I know ahead of time which church or political party you belong to. So, it's simply a matter of avoiding more potential drama. However, in real life, I don't really care what you believe in unless you are actively harming or using your beliefs to discriminate against other living beings.
4) No major height or age discrepancies, not too far away - I know, really superficial of me. Again, things that are very negotiable...actually ultimately everything is...except for the smoking, I'm fairly flexible about these in person. However, if I can only see the raw data, I will rule out as many people as possible. This is gonna sound cold, but narrowing down the number of men I contact helps me to prioritize, and expend my time and energy more wisely. Again, sorry. Nothing against men, especially the ones online, but I don't know you, so I'm going to have to go off of the information provided.
Since I can't think of anything else to write that will make me look like a superficial beeyotch, let's move on to a few gripes I have with some men on these dating sites and my suggestions for improvement. Needless to say, you don't have to give a crap, in which case, I am curious as to why you're reading this blog to begin with.
Anyways, on to the next list:
a) Pick a decent username - Sites like E and P will actually provide you with a number, so potential suitors can't pass judgment on you just based off of your username. Hey, not everyone wants to hook up with randydude69. (I don't know if anyone actually has that name...and no, it's not mine. My apologies if you do! It's just an example. Don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.) On sites that do allow for usernames, like Z, I would advise picking something neutral. However, if you want to show that you're not looking for anything serious, then by all means, let your username do the talking for you.
b) Include a picture! - Even if it's pixelated because you haven't given me permission to see it (some of these sites, like E and P, don't allow you to see the profile picture clearly without the user giving you consent), just go through the effort of uploading at least one decent photograph. Related to this: Upload one with a clear shot of your face. Please! I think it's great that you have pictures of you having fun on the beach, but I generally don't wind up becoming attracted to someone's silhouette. Oh, and on sites like Z that are a bit more informal: Look, I get it. Sites like this aren't exactly known for creating everlasting love. However, there are still a few basic rules I think one should follow when uploading photos: No impersonations of Ben Stiller's "Blue Steel". It's cute, but best saved for your modeling portfolio and friends. Try to lay off of the topless pics. Thanks for showing the goods, I appreciate it, really, but that's not quite what I'm looking for. No group pictures. Even if you tried to crop the photo, your profile pic should not include fractions of your amigos and/or ex. Just take a friggin' selfie! (Unlike what some other sites might say, I would prefer a decent selfie over a poorly cropped group picture anyday.)
c) Fill out your profile - Come on guys, I went through the effort to fill mine out as honestly as possible, and then I stumble across profiles that haven't even been completed halfway. It's like a slap in the face. So, just do your part because I sure as hell ain't gonna bother writing you if you haven't given me anything to write to you about.
d) Winking/smiling/etc. alone won't cut it - I think it's great that you sent me that smile, but then didn't bother to write. What do you want me to do? Oh hey, that guy poked me. That must mean he likes me! (Maybe I shouldn't have gone with poked as an example...oh well.) So, unless you're smoking hot and I really like your profile, I won't react. If you can't be bothered to at least send me a "I think your profile is interesting.", then I have nothing to say to you either.
e) Try to avoid cheesy lines - If it's embedded in an otherwise sincerely written message, I don't care. However, if that's your opening line and that's all you've got to say, then I get the feeling you just copied/pasted that to a hundred other profiles. I know that people contact more than one person in the online dating world, but you don't have to insult the other person by making it so glaringly obvious that you're just playing the numbers game. You might as well go ahead and admit "Hey girl, I just want to get laid." or "I don't actually want a relationship." Thanks to site Z, I've come to strongly dislike many of my messages. That's probably because many of them are along the lines of "Are you looking for adventure?" (Umm, with you? No.) Also, I don't like being buttered up unnecessarily. I have a mirror, I know what I look like. If you were to ask anyone in my social circle to describe me, words like beautiful and sexy would not be the first words to jump to their minds. More like quiet and awkward. Maybe smart. Maybe. So, I don't need you to feed me lines about how I stunned you with my laser eyes or how I am the epitome of beauty. It reeks of lies, even if you're being genuine. If you still think you need to compliment me on my irresistible appearance, please don't open with it. Wait until we've actually met and have had a few actual conversations.
Now that I've torn into any and all potential dates, which I am sorry about, it's time for me to turn the mirror on myself. I probably shouldn't be so discriminating, even in an online setting. I'm dealing with other human beings (hopefully), so I shouldn't assume that they're all the same. I'm sure that many, if not most, of them are decent people who deserve a chance to be loved. I will readily admit, that I can be sometimes surprisingly superficial when it comes to online dating, and I should try to loosen some of my strict requirements. My goal is to write back to anyone who has gone through the effort of writing me. That is the least that I can do. I should try to upload more pictures, preferably not selfies (even though I don't know how or even if I'll accomplish that). I still have a lot to work on, so just be patient with me. And please remember, this is just based off of my observations and very limited experiences, so what bothers me, might not bother you. This doesn't mean that I hate these guys online or that I now suddenly hate some of you because you smoke or you have been married before or you happen to be 10 cm shorter than me. These are preferences I have in a potential partner, but I'm not expecting to have someone meet all of these, but at least one would be nice.
That's all from my end for now, and hopefully, I'll have more to write about some other time.
Take care everyone! Plenty of love and hugs!
Today I would like to write about the things I have noticed about myself and the men on certain dating sites.
First off, am I the only one who feels that online dating is more of a full-time job? To me it just seems that if you do online dating the way these sites advise you to, you almost have to invest a good two to three hours every day, and since I'm guessing that some people (and by some, I mean me) are signed up with more than one site, that adds up. Besides, I should be using that time to do something more productive, like study.
And yes, I have accounts on several dating sites...four to be exact. However, I'm only really active on one of them. The first one (let's call it O) I actually signed up with because they had cool personality quizzes. In fact, I signed up with them so long ago that I am still listed as being in a relationship, which is obviously a lie. It wasn't back then, but it certainly is now. I keep on forgetting that I have an account on that site until it sends me a happy birthday message. Then I decided to try the second one (Z) because I thought I was really desperate (and I liked the commercials...it happens, even to me), but then I took a look at the men using it and quickly realized that I didn't want someone that badly. Maybe that was more of a regional issue though... Site number three (E) was the first German account I set up, but I don't even really use that one anymore because I can't use all of the functions without signing up for a premium membership. As for the last one (P), I again started off with limited access, but I actually purchased the premium membership for this site since it was cheaper without giving too much up quality-wise. This last website is the one that I actually use.
So, before I continue, it's important to note that the things I'm writing about are based off of my personal experiences and opinions, and they certainly aren't representative of the population at large. If you agree with me, great, and if you don't, that's fine too. We can all agree to disagree, as long as we aren't being unreasonably aggressive and immature about it. Most of us should already be aware of this, but since you never know who might stumble across this blog, I feel that such things need to be pointed out repeatedly.
Alright, on to the main show...
I have come to realize something shocking about myself when it comes to online dating, and that is that I can be quite superficial. What I mean is that I am more lenient/tolerant/accepting towards/of guys I meet in person. For example, someone doesn't strike me as overly attractive or I'm just not feeling it, but maybe this person is extremely funny or sweet. Offline, I'll gladly date someone who is incredibly funny over someone who is extremely attractive. Or at least I'll give it a shot, whereas online dating (unfortunately) allows for me to kick the poor guy to the curb without wasting a second thought on him. (Sorry.) There seems to be a whole lot of characteristics/requirements that automatically eliminate most potential partners for me. Should I list them? So we can all witness what a bitch I really am? Now, for the record, these are things that I look for in a potential partner online since it seems that I am very discriminatory if I haven't actually met the person. Sounds weird, but it's true. You can all hate me later.
1) Non-smokers - These are very, very hard to come by in Germany. It seems that the majority of men (online) smoke, be it regularly or occasionally or just whenever they're out with friends drinking. This is actually one of the things that is (almost) non-negotiable for me, regardless of online or offline. I have too many family members who smoke, and I would prefer to not become romantically/sexually-involved with someone who smells and/or tastes like smoke. I will gladly be the bestest of buddies with you, but if you smoke, there is a 99% chance of you staying in the friend zone. Of course, should I ever meet someone who fulfilled all of my other basic desires and/or needs, but smoked, I might make an exception. However, I wouldn't count on it.
2) No children and no previous marriages - This is one of my bitchier requirements (or maybe even the bitchiest one?), but hear me out. I have witnessed and heard about too much baby mama and papa drama, so unless I've met your previous life partner and have been able to judge her (or his, you never know) character for myself, I'm going with the worst-case scenario and staying away from you. As for the children, as much as I love them and would love to be a mom at some point (maybe), I know I wouldn't just be taking on the kids. I would also be taking on the parent, assuming he/she is still alive, and again that is potentially just way too much drama for my liking. This is one of the areas that I would be quite a bit more lenient on in an offline setting. Depending on the person, I wouldn't say no to a previously married father. However, I would require meeting the former spouse and having a conversation with the children (assuming the guy still plays an active part in their lives), once the time is right, to explain the situation and answer any questions. Of course I realize that at my advanced/advancing age that finding someone who hasn't been married (at least once) and who is childless becomes increasingly impossible. So, I'm not entirely delusional, and like I said, I am quite a bit more flexible about this issue when I meet someone in person.
3) No religious affiliations (or open proclamations of political views) - I usually would never think of asking someone about their beliefs (or political views), so why would an online admission about these things deter me all of a sudden? Unless I know you fairly well, I might associate certain personality traits to you if I know ahead of time which church or political party you belong to. So, it's simply a matter of avoiding more potential drama. However, in real life, I don't really care what you believe in unless you are actively harming or using your beliefs to discriminate against other living beings.
4) No major height or age discrepancies, not too far away - I know, really superficial of me. Again, things that are very negotiable...actually ultimately everything is...except for the smoking, I'm fairly flexible about these in person. However, if I can only see the raw data, I will rule out as many people as possible. This is gonna sound cold, but narrowing down the number of men I contact helps me to prioritize, and expend my time and energy more wisely. Again, sorry. Nothing against men, especially the ones online, but I don't know you, so I'm going to have to go off of the information provided.
Since I can't think of anything else to write that will make me look like a superficial beeyotch, let's move on to a few gripes I have with some men on these dating sites and my suggestions for improvement. Needless to say, you don't have to give a crap, in which case, I am curious as to why you're reading this blog to begin with.
Anyways, on to the next list:
a) Pick a decent username - Sites like E and P will actually provide you with a number, so potential suitors can't pass judgment on you just based off of your username. Hey, not everyone wants to hook up with randydude69. (I don't know if anyone actually has that name...and no, it's not mine. My apologies if you do! It's just an example. Don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.) On sites that do allow for usernames, like Z, I would advise picking something neutral. However, if you want to show that you're not looking for anything serious, then by all means, let your username do the talking for you.
b) Include a picture! - Even if it's pixelated because you haven't given me permission to see it (some of these sites, like E and P, don't allow you to see the profile picture clearly without the user giving you consent), just go through the effort of uploading at least one decent photograph. Related to this: Upload one with a clear shot of your face. Please! I think it's great that you have pictures of you having fun on the beach, but I generally don't wind up becoming attracted to someone's silhouette. Oh, and on sites like Z that are a bit more informal: Look, I get it. Sites like this aren't exactly known for creating everlasting love. However, there are still a few basic rules I think one should follow when uploading photos: No impersonations of Ben Stiller's "Blue Steel". It's cute, but best saved for your modeling portfolio and friends. Try to lay off of the topless pics. Thanks for showing the goods, I appreciate it, really, but that's not quite what I'm looking for. No group pictures. Even if you tried to crop the photo, your profile pic should not include fractions of your amigos and/or ex. Just take a friggin' selfie! (Unlike what some other sites might say, I would prefer a decent selfie over a poorly cropped group picture anyday.)
c) Fill out your profile - Come on guys, I went through the effort to fill mine out as honestly as possible, and then I stumble across profiles that haven't even been completed halfway. It's like a slap in the face. So, just do your part because I sure as hell ain't gonna bother writing you if you haven't given me anything to write to you about.
d) Winking/smiling/etc. alone won't cut it - I think it's great that you sent me that smile, but then didn't bother to write. What do you want me to do? Oh hey, that guy poked me. That must mean he likes me! (Maybe I shouldn't have gone with poked as an example...oh well.) So, unless you're smoking hot and I really like your profile, I won't react. If you can't be bothered to at least send me a "I think your profile is interesting.", then I have nothing to say to you either.
e) Try to avoid cheesy lines - If it's embedded in an otherwise sincerely written message, I don't care. However, if that's your opening line and that's all you've got to say, then I get the feeling you just copied/pasted that to a hundred other profiles. I know that people contact more than one person in the online dating world, but you don't have to insult the other person by making it so glaringly obvious that you're just playing the numbers game. You might as well go ahead and admit "Hey girl, I just want to get laid." or "I don't actually want a relationship." Thanks to site Z, I've come to strongly dislike many of my messages. That's probably because many of them are along the lines of "Are you looking for adventure?" (Umm, with you? No.) Also, I don't like being buttered up unnecessarily. I have a mirror, I know what I look like. If you were to ask anyone in my social circle to describe me, words like beautiful and sexy would not be the first words to jump to their minds. More like quiet and awkward. Maybe smart. Maybe. So, I don't need you to feed me lines about how I stunned you with my laser eyes or how I am the epitome of beauty. It reeks of lies, even if you're being genuine. If you still think you need to compliment me on my irresistible appearance, please don't open with it. Wait until we've actually met and have had a few actual conversations.
Now that I've torn into any and all potential dates, which I am sorry about, it's time for me to turn the mirror on myself. I probably shouldn't be so discriminating, even in an online setting. I'm dealing with other human beings (hopefully), so I shouldn't assume that they're all the same. I'm sure that many, if not most, of them are decent people who deserve a chance to be loved. I will readily admit, that I can be sometimes surprisingly superficial when it comes to online dating, and I should try to loosen some of my strict requirements. My goal is to write back to anyone who has gone through the effort of writing me. That is the least that I can do. I should try to upload more pictures, preferably not selfies (even though I don't know how or even if I'll accomplish that). I still have a lot to work on, so just be patient with me. And please remember, this is just based off of my observations and very limited experiences, so what bothers me, might not bother you. This doesn't mean that I hate these guys online or that I now suddenly hate some of you because you smoke or you have been married before or you happen to be 10 cm shorter than me. These are preferences I have in a potential partner, but I'm not expecting to have someone meet all of these, but at least one would be nice.
That's all from my end for now, and hopefully, I'll have more to write about some other time.
Take care everyone! Plenty of love and hugs!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
From Sad to Zen and Back Again
First off, something positive: To those of you who celebrate it, happy Easter! To those who don't (or aren't), happy Sunday or Monday or whatever day of the week it happens to be for you.
Now on to the actual entry...
For those of you playing the home game, you are already familiar with the ginormous breakdown I had or had been suffering from for the past two weeks. Well, the good news is that everything actually managed to stabilize and I became very calm and, dare I say, borderline content. This state of mind lasted for three days straight (three days!)...and then I went to visit one of my relatives today. (I won't say who exactly, but it's not like it's that hard to figure out.)
Out of necessity, I've had to learn how to censor what I say around this particular individual, mainly because she always manages to find a chink in my armor and inevitably says things that wind up pissing me off. Unfortunately, since I can't really tell her off or punch her, this anger just gets bottled up and I eventually start to become depressed (and yes, in some cases even cry). And so, even though this visit started out very innocently, I almost started yelling at her by the end of it (hormones may be partially to blame for this, but only partially...I would've still been aggravated otherwise).
These are some of the things I had to listen to: I'm too close to my parents (never mind that I didn't live with them for about four years and that several thousands of miles are currently separating us); I should just stop visiting them (that would also include any and all of my American friends and my cat), and instead just find people to do stuff with (we don't have to be actual friends, just people who can get along with each other...because those are so easy to find! Hey, let me put out an ad on Craigslist: Lonely and desperate female looking for people to do stuff with her...or to her...I don't care! Not really looking for anything long-term. Heck, you don't even have to like me, just so long as you hang out with me!); the United States isn't good for me (while this may be somewhat/mostly true, Germany hasn't been that good for me either, but hey, I'm completely to blame for that one); I'm 28 and could be married and have kids by now (thank you for rubbing salt in the wound that I am a failure not only on the academic, but also on a personal, level); yadayadayada. So yeah, tons of fun for everyone...
Of course, the fun can't stop there because I wind up calling my parents (you know, the ones I have an almost Bates-esque relationship with), and the shit hits the proverbial fan for the second time in one day. Usually, I talk to both my mom and my dad, but this time, I only get to talk to my mom. Hmmm, this is strange. I wonder what happened to Dad? Well, he either wasn't home or he just didn't want to talk to me. As it turns out, the blog entry about the sad panda got him pretty upset...and by "pretty upset" I mean he's one mouse click away from booking my return flight home. His main worry is that I'll slit my wrists, hang myself, throw myself from one of the bridges in the area, overdose on drugs, die from alcohol poisoning, blow my brains out, get killed by one of the many random strangers I will inevitably be having unprotected sex with (I should be so lucky), or any combination thereof. Considering that he's seen firsthand how out of control depression can get, I kinda get why he would be worried...BUT it's a little too late to be worrying about lil ol' me. I have been suffering from depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. Nobody paid attention then, nobody needs to now. Besides, if I wasn't able to end everything back when I was younger, guess what, ain't nuthin' gonna happen now. What?! It's true! We all know that I'm just playing the waiting game at this point. Aren't you glad that you are reading this depressing crap? You're probably as happy as I am writing it...
Anyways...right now it just feels like I've taken two steps forward and one step back. And no, nobody needs to alert the police, nobody needs to have me institutionalized. Seriously, if you do, sad panda will become angry panda, and then nobody will be happy. Capiche?
Please join me next time for more chaos and drama...or don't.
Now on to the actual entry...
For those of you playing the home game, you are already familiar with the ginormous breakdown I had or had been suffering from for the past two weeks. Well, the good news is that everything actually managed to stabilize and I became very calm and, dare I say, borderline content. This state of mind lasted for three days straight (three days!)...and then I went to visit one of my relatives today. (I won't say who exactly, but it's not like it's that hard to figure out.)
Out of necessity, I've had to learn how to censor what I say around this particular individual, mainly because she always manages to find a chink in my armor and inevitably says things that wind up pissing me off. Unfortunately, since I can't really tell her off or punch her, this anger just gets bottled up and I eventually start to become depressed (and yes, in some cases even cry). And so, even though this visit started out very innocently, I almost started yelling at her by the end of it (hormones may be partially to blame for this, but only partially...I would've still been aggravated otherwise).
These are some of the things I had to listen to: I'm too close to my parents (never mind that I didn't live with them for about four years and that several thousands of miles are currently separating us); I should just stop visiting them (that would also include any and all of my American friends and my cat), and instead just find people to do stuff with (we don't have to be actual friends, just people who can get along with each other...because those are so easy to find! Hey, let me put out an ad on Craigslist: Lonely and desperate female looking for people to do stuff with her...or to her...I don't care! Not really looking for anything long-term. Heck, you don't even have to like me, just so long as you hang out with me!); the United States isn't good for me (while this may be somewhat/mostly true, Germany hasn't been that good for me either, but hey, I'm completely to blame for that one); I'm 28 and could be married and have kids by now (thank you for rubbing salt in the wound that I am a failure not only on the academic, but also on a personal, level); yadayadayada. So yeah, tons of fun for everyone...
Of course, the fun can't stop there because I wind up calling my parents (you know, the ones I have an almost Bates-esque relationship with), and the shit hits the proverbial fan for the second time in one day. Usually, I talk to both my mom and my dad, but this time, I only get to talk to my mom. Hmmm, this is strange. I wonder what happened to Dad? Well, he either wasn't home or he just didn't want to talk to me. As it turns out, the blog entry about the sad panda got him pretty upset...and by "pretty upset" I mean he's one mouse click away from booking my return flight home. His main worry is that I'll slit my wrists, hang myself, throw myself from one of the bridges in the area, overdose on drugs, die from alcohol poisoning, blow my brains out, get killed by one of the many random strangers I will inevitably be having unprotected sex with (I should be so lucky), or any combination thereof. Considering that he's seen firsthand how out of control depression can get, I kinda get why he would be worried...BUT it's a little too late to be worrying about lil ol' me. I have been suffering from depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. Nobody paid attention then, nobody needs to now. Besides, if I wasn't able to end everything back when I was younger, guess what, ain't nuthin' gonna happen now. What?! It's true! We all know that I'm just playing the waiting game at this point. Aren't you glad that you are reading this depressing crap? You're probably as happy as I am writing it...
Anyways...right now it just feels like I've taken two steps forward and one step back. And no, nobody needs to alert the police, nobody needs to have me institutionalized. Seriously, if you do, sad panda will become angry panda, and then nobody will be happy. Capiche?
Please join me next time for more chaos and drama...or don't.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Feeling bad about feeling bad
So, it seems that pretty much everything I write, that pertains to me and my life at least, is incredibly depressing. And for that, I would like to apologize, especially since I know that my parents also read my blog. Not to mention that sad more easily begets sad than happy begets happy. If that makes sense. I can only imagine how tough it must be for my parents to be reading the things I write because, hey, what feels better than knowing that your child is seriously messed up and there is nothing you can do about it? I do want to thank them for being supportive, and I am honestly not trying to hurt/anger/sadden/disappoint them, or anyone for that matter.
At this point, I'm just trying to weigh my options, and as much as I don't want to give up and take the easy way out, I just might have to step back. Maybe this just isn't my fight to fight.
Studying is difficult enough as is, so I don't know why I decided to make it even harder on myself. I guess I ultimately thought I was doing everyone a favor by making the decision I made a couple of years ago. Maybe I thought things would be different. It's hard to say at this point because everything has sort of become this huge muddled mess.
All I know now is that I have some important decisions to make. In order to do that, I'm going to give myself a maximum of four weeks to think everything over. I just want to rule out any hormonal imbalances or the complications of readjusting to a regular class schedule as being potential culprits behind these thoughts. Unfortunately, at this point, it doesn't matter which decision I wind up making, I will more than likely hate myself for it. I just need to make sure that I make the one that I will hate myself for the least.
Anyways, thank you for reading, and hopefully, I'll have happier news to report next time.
At this point, I'm just trying to weigh my options, and as much as I don't want to give up and take the easy way out, I just might have to step back. Maybe this just isn't my fight to fight.
Studying is difficult enough as is, so I don't know why I decided to make it even harder on myself. I guess I ultimately thought I was doing everyone a favor by making the decision I made a couple of years ago. Maybe I thought things would be different. It's hard to say at this point because everything has sort of become this huge muddled mess.
All I know now is that I have some important decisions to make. In order to do that, I'm going to give myself a maximum of four weeks to think everything over. I just want to rule out any hormonal imbalances or the complications of readjusting to a regular class schedule as being potential culprits behind these thoughts. Unfortunately, at this point, it doesn't matter which decision I wind up making, I will more than likely hate myself for it. I just need to make sure that I make the one that I will hate myself for the least.
Anyways, thank you for reading, and hopefully, I'll have happier news to report next time.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Adventures of the sad panda (or What the f*** did I get myself into?!)
I know, it's been a while and I'm sorry about that. There has simply been a lot going on, in my head at least, since we all know I have virtually no social life.
Big surprise, I am a little less than happy right now. In fact, I would say that I am outright depressed. Actually, and I'm writing this knowing perfectly that most of you will view me as weak/sad/pathetic, I have been crying for at least once a day (with the occasional dry days in between) for a good two weeks. So, my crying has been gradually increasing for almost a year. Since I would like to celebrate such a depressing twist, let's take a look back to how the mighty have fallen...
As some of you may be aware, I am currently working on my MA in Germany. Why? Because I can and because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Back in September 2012 all I wanted to do was make more use of my education and not waste away at work (I won't name my employer here because a) I don't want a lawsuit on my hands and b) I might get stuck having to work there again), so I saved up money, took the GRE, applied for grad school in Germany and got accepted, and left. I was so happy and hopeful, until I showed up at the school and found out that I wasn't fully enrolled yet. And so, with about two weeks until classes were supposed to start, both my parents and I started to freak out, and too much money was spent on getting all of the necessary paperwork sent and turned in. Let's just say, if I had known then, what I know now, I would have scheduled a return flight home right then (yes, to my parents and the kitties, don't judge!) and sent out applications to various grad schools in the US. But noooo, no tuition fees and better/cheaper health insurance and weight loss and family yadayadayada... It was gonna be greeeeaaaat!!!! Eventually it all got worked out and I was excited to be back at school and doing something productive/beneficial for myself and my future.
However, this feeling of joy quickly became disrupted once I realized that outside of the dying breed of Magister students, who need more time to acquire their degrees and typically are in their late 20s/early 30s, I was easily the oldest out of the bunch. This wouldn't have really mattered, if it hadn't been pointed out to me that my Japanese sucked monkey balls. (Okay, nobody actually said that verbatim, but it had been brought to my attention that my Japanese skills just weren't that great. They still aren't.)
Despite these devastating realizations, I continued to work hard and was rewarded with...mediocre grades (because one professor took sympathy on me) and my first German research paper being so terribly written that that particular professor couldn't even grade it (I was offered to rewrite it in English, but have since given up because I keep on running into this huge mental wall with FAILURE sprayed all over it in neon paint). So, the first semester was a complete failure academically-speaking, but it was still fun overall (I met a few really great people, I actually had some semblance of a social life, I was starting to lose weight, and I even managed to wean myself off of my anti-depressants) and I learned my lesson, which resulted in me overcompensating during the second semester with an overfull class schedule (one that included two Japanese language courses back-to-back because I'm obviously a masochist).
The first half of the second semester was still great, and then something happened during the course of the second half that started to cause a bit of a disconnect. I still felt fine most of the time, but I started to care less about my classes. At the time, I thought it was simply the sight of seeing other people being openly happen during late spring/early summer, combined with me not being able to sleep properly due to the warm weather (you don't want to know what I had to do in order to be able to fall asleep), that was causing me to feel sad and frustrated. So, I looked forward to visiting my parents in the summer/fall.
While this first visit had its ups and downs, and I wound up eating too much fast food, I was glad to be around my cat (and of course the other feline family members) and I felt my sense of normalcy slowly being restored. Unfortunately, this feeling was also accompanied by the anxiety caused by me trying (and failing miserably) to research for and type up three separate research papers. No, I wasn't able to finish any of them, so don't even ask. As much as I secretly didn't want to return to Germany, I tried to tell myself that I was practically halfway done, so I should just keep on fighting and everything would be alright.
The third semester started off okay. Except that I had yet again taken on too many courses and quickly found myself running on empty and working off of an extremely messed-up sleep cycle (some nights I skipped sleep altogether in favor of studying). I hardly engaged in any kind of social activity, when I was available nobody else was, and when the others actually wanted to do something, I just wasn't in the mood (or didn't have the funds). This past semester also saw the return of a particularly bad habit of mine: skipping classes. I think I missed a total of three, maybe four, weeks worth of classes. Why? Because I started to care even less than I did during the spring/summer. Besides, my crying also started to pick up and I didn't necessarily want to have everyone and their mother see me sob for no apparent reason.
As if classes and my own personal issues weren't already enough to contend with, I stupidly decided/agreed to apply for various exchange programs. The month, and the week in particular, leading up to my second US visit I was running myself beyond ragged. Between getting everything ready for my trip, filling out paperwork for one of those exchange programs, and spending hours in one of the university's libraries working on take home assignments and exams, I oftentimes didn't know what I was doing or what I had already taken care of or what still needed to be done. I managed to not jump off a building by writing down what had to be done each day. If you needed me to plan anything past that day, I couldn't because I was never sure how much I would be able to accomplish within the next 24 hours. I kid you not, if my inner me actually had a voice, she would've been screaming at me non-stop.
My second visit was again spent with the kitties and the parents, but it was also mostly spent contemplating the near future. During this downtime, I came to realize that I was actually dreading the beginning of the next semester. This time around, I really didn't want to go back. However, I didn't want to say anything at the time because I felt like that was a selfish thing to think. (How dare I not want to go back? What about the friends I met over there? What about the professors? Your parents are going to be so disappointed. That would be quitting and you don't quit. You're so ungrateful and selfish, not everyone gets this kind of an opportunity.) The problem is: It's stopped being fun, it's stopped being interesting, it's stopped being motivating. This is what my life looks like: I go to classes. I go back to the apartment. At least once a week I have to buy groceries. I have to ask my parents for money at least twice a month. Even though I do try to look for it on a regular basis, work isn't really an option because if I'm not in class, I'm doing homework and studying, which actually takes up more time than one would think. Today's the first day of classes and I'm dreading going. I just don't want to go. Practically everyone I know will be done studying by the end of this semester. When I return to/am in my apartment, I am alone. No cats, no room mates, just me and my thoughts. On my days off, I usually sleep until 10, sometimes even until 1 because there is no motivation to get up (compare this to my US wake-up times of 8-10). In addition to that, I am now stuck in this mess of preparing for this exchange to Japan, which I have been regretting since February. Sure, I was excited at first, but let's be honest: It's a lot of stress for something expensive that won't count for squat on my transcript, but maybe, just maybe, will look decent on my resume. Besides, I know me, I probably won't do anything over there anyways. It just seems more and more like it's just going to be a semester of me sitting around, in a different setting mind you, possibly improving my Japanese skills and delaying my graduation by another semester because, from the sounds of things, a semester won't be long enough to take classes that can be counted towards my degree. So yeah, worth it, but not really worth it. I'm still thinking about whether or not I want to go through with this, and as of right now, I'm thisclose to calling it off and just going to Japan on my own schedule (while I'm not feeling pressured to finish school in a timely fashion).
Of course, these feelings don't mean that I'm going to break off my MA studies. Regardless of how depressed I've been feeling, this isn't even an option. I have been looking at my options though, such as switching to a university stateside. Unfortunately, it seems that I am out of luck in that department. One of the schools I looked at doesn't admit students in the spring, and the director went ahead to inform me that, even if I did by some miracle get accepted into their program, only a maximum of three of my courses would get transferred. As for the other school I looked at, despite a promising start, since they do actually accept spring admissions, they aren't accepting anymore applicants for the Japanese part of their program and I am lacking the language skills for the other tracks they offer. So, I either risk waiting and losing a huge chunk of my course work, or I am stuck here.
Since it seems very likely that I will have to stay here, I have been rethinking the promise I made to myself last year about never taking anti-depressants again (not unless absolutely necessary). Unfortunately, it seems like it might be necessary after all. My only problem is that Germany still hasn't completely opened itself up to the notion of depression yet. Not everyone here is anti (even though here you won't really hear talks about depression, here it's more about burn-outs), but there is still a bit of a stigma attached to it, so I'm not sure if I really feel like fighting with my doctor or any therapists about something like this.
Anyways, that's it for me. Sorry for being such a downer... I would like to say that the next post will be something uplifting, but I'm just not feeling it.
Talk to you guys later.
Big surprise, I am a little less than happy right now. In fact, I would say that I am outright depressed. Actually, and I'm writing this knowing perfectly that most of you will view me as weak/sad/pathetic, I have been crying for at least once a day (with the occasional dry days in between) for a good two weeks. So, my crying has been gradually increasing for almost a year. Since I would like to celebrate such a depressing twist, let's take a look back to how the mighty have fallen...
As some of you may be aware, I am currently working on my MA in Germany. Why? Because I can and because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Back in September 2012 all I wanted to do was make more use of my education and not waste away at work (I won't name my employer here because a) I don't want a lawsuit on my hands and b) I might get stuck having to work there again), so I saved up money, took the GRE, applied for grad school in Germany and got accepted, and left. I was so happy and hopeful, until I showed up at the school and found out that I wasn't fully enrolled yet. And so, with about two weeks until classes were supposed to start, both my parents and I started to freak out, and too much money was spent on getting all of the necessary paperwork sent and turned in. Let's just say, if I had known then, what I know now, I would have scheduled a return flight home right then (yes, to my parents and the kitties, don't judge!) and sent out applications to various grad schools in the US. But noooo, no tuition fees and better/cheaper health insurance and weight loss and family yadayadayada... It was gonna be greeeeaaaat!!!! Eventually it all got worked out and I was excited to be back at school and doing something productive/beneficial for myself and my future.
However, this feeling of joy quickly became disrupted once I realized that outside of the dying breed of Magister students, who need more time to acquire their degrees and typically are in their late 20s/early 30s, I was easily the oldest out of the bunch. This wouldn't have really mattered, if it hadn't been pointed out to me that my Japanese sucked monkey balls. (Okay, nobody actually said that verbatim, but it had been brought to my attention that my Japanese skills just weren't that great. They still aren't.)
Despite these devastating realizations, I continued to work hard and was rewarded with...mediocre grades (because one professor took sympathy on me) and my first German research paper being so terribly written that that particular professor couldn't even grade it (I was offered to rewrite it in English, but have since given up because I keep on running into this huge mental wall with FAILURE sprayed all over it in neon paint). So, the first semester was a complete failure academically-speaking, but it was still fun overall (I met a few really great people, I actually had some semblance of a social life, I was starting to lose weight, and I even managed to wean myself off of my anti-depressants) and I learned my lesson, which resulted in me overcompensating during the second semester with an overfull class schedule (one that included two Japanese language courses back-to-back because I'm obviously a masochist).
The first half of the second semester was still great, and then something happened during the course of the second half that started to cause a bit of a disconnect. I still felt fine most of the time, but I started to care less about my classes. At the time, I thought it was simply the sight of seeing other people being openly happen during late spring/early summer, combined with me not being able to sleep properly due to the warm weather (you don't want to know what I had to do in order to be able to fall asleep), that was causing me to feel sad and frustrated. So, I looked forward to visiting my parents in the summer/fall.
While this first visit had its ups and downs, and I wound up eating too much fast food, I was glad to be around my cat (and of course the other feline family members) and I felt my sense of normalcy slowly being restored. Unfortunately, this feeling was also accompanied by the anxiety caused by me trying (and failing miserably) to research for and type up three separate research papers. No, I wasn't able to finish any of them, so don't even ask. As much as I secretly didn't want to return to Germany, I tried to tell myself that I was practically halfway done, so I should just keep on fighting and everything would be alright.
The third semester started off okay. Except that I had yet again taken on too many courses and quickly found myself running on empty and working off of an extremely messed-up sleep cycle (some nights I skipped sleep altogether in favor of studying). I hardly engaged in any kind of social activity, when I was available nobody else was, and when the others actually wanted to do something, I just wasn't in the mood (or didn't have the funds). This past semester also saw the return of a particularly bad habit of mine: skipping classes. I think I missed a total of three, maybe four, weeks worth of classes. Why? Because I started to care even less than I did during the spring/summer. Besides, my crying also started to pick up and I didn't necessarily want to have everyone and their mother see me sob for no apparent reason.
As if classes and my own personal issues weren't already enough to contend with, I stupidly decided/agreed to apply for various exchange programs. The month, and the week in particular, leading up to my second US visit I was running myself beyond ragged. Between getting everything ready for my trip, filling out paperwork for one of those exchange programs, and spending hours in one of the university's libraries working on take home assignments and exams, I oftentimes didn't know what I was doing or what I had already taken care of or what still needed to be done. I managed to not jump off a building by writing down what had to be done each day. If you needed me to plan anything past that day, I couldn't because I was never sure how much I would be able to accomplish within the next 24 hours. I kid you not, if my inner me actually had a voice, she would've been screaming at me non-stop.
My second visit was again spent with the kitties and the parents, but it was also mostly spent contemplating the near future. During this downtime, I came to realize that I was actually dreading the beginning of the next semester. This time around, I really didn't want to go back. However, I didn't want to say anything at the time because I felt like that was a selfish thing to think. (How dare I not want to go back? What about the friends I met over there? What about the professors? Your parents are going to be so disappointed. That would be quitting and you don't quit. You're so ungrateful and selfish, not everyone gets this kind of an opportunity.) The problem is: It's stopped being fun, it's stopped being interesting, it's stopped being motivating. This is what my life looks like: I go to classes. I go back to the apartment. At least once a week I have to buy groceries. I have to ask my parents for money at least twice a month. Even though I do try to look for it on a regular basis, work isn't really an option because if I'm not in class, I'm doing homework and studying, which actually takes up more time than one would think. Today's the first day of classes and I'm dreading going. I just don't want to go. Practically everyone I know will be done studying by the end of this semester. When I return to/am in my apartment, I am alone. No cats, no room mates, just me and my thoughts. On my days off, I usually sleep until 10, sometimes even until 1 because there is no motivation to get up (compare this to my US wake-up times of 8-10). In addition to that, I am now stuck in this mess of preparing for this exchange to Japan, which I have been regretting since February. Sure, I was excited at first, but let's be honest: It's a lot of stress for something expensive that won't count for squat on my transcript, but maybe, just maybe, will look decent on my resume. Besides, I know me, I probably won't do anything over there anyways. It just seems more and more like it's just going to be a semester of me sitting around, in a different setting mind you, possibly improving my Japanese skills and delaying my graduation by another semester because, from the sounds of things, a semester won't be long enough to take classes that can be counted towards my degree. So yeah, worth it, but not really worth it. I'm still thinking about whether or not I want to go through with this, and as of right now, I'm thisclose to calling it off and just going to Japan on my own schedule (while I'm not feeling pressured to finish school in a timely fashion).
Of course, these feelings don't mean that I'm going to break off my MA studies. Regardless of how depressed I've been feeling, this isn't even an option. I have been looking at my options though, such as switching to a university stateside. Unfortunately, it seems that I am out of luck in that department. One of the schools I looked at doesn't admit students in the spring, and the director went ahead to inform me that, even if I did by some miracle get accepted into their program, only a maximum of three of my courses would get transferred. As for the other school I looked at, despite a promising start, since they do actually accept spring admissions, they aren't accepting anymore applicants for the Japanese part of their program and I am lacking the language skills for the other tracks they offer. So, I either risk waiting and losing a huge chunk of my course work, or I am stuck here.
Since it seems very likely that I will have to stay here, I have been rethinking the promise I made to myself last year about never taking anti-depressants again (not unless absolutely necessary). Unfortunately, it seems like it might be necessary after all. My only problem is that Germany still hasn't completely opened itself up to the notion of depression yet. Not everyone here is anti (even though here you won't really hear talks about depression, here it's more about burn-outs), but there is still a bit of a stigma attached to it, so I'm not sure if I really feel like fighting with my doctor or any therapists about something like this.
Anyways, that's it for me. Sorry for being such a downer... I would like to say that the next post will be something uplifting, but I'm just not feeling it.
Talk to you guys later.
Sunday, February 02, 2014
Online dating (Episode One): Holy phone-y awkwardness!
Yeah, I know, not my best title. But hey, it's my blog, so I can come up with crappy titles. Anywho, for those of you who don't know (and somehow magically care), I set up accounts on two different online dating sites a little over a month ago. Why? Because I'm a lonely person, my last relationship ended in 2008 (lolz...last relationship...as if I have such an extensive dating history...nuns get more action than I do...oops, sorry?...), and I obviously fail at life. I won't regale you with the details now. Maybe I'll type that story up as a prequel at some point in the future, but on to the present...
So, like I mentioned, I am now a part of the online dating community and, oddly enough, do get the occasional message. A couple of weeks ago I started messaging two guys on a semi-regular basis: one of them more desirable due to proximity, one of them more desirable based off of the number of "MPs" (i.e.: matching points - the higher the number of MPs, the more compatible the two people supposedly are), one of them a bit more...for lack of a better word at this point...opinionated, one of them almost annoyingly upbeat, neither one of them seemingly able to provide a decent picture of their face (very superficial of me, I know, but I like to look at eyes and lips...not only at full-body pics...oh well, better than the guys who don't provide any pictures at all, I guess...and yes, I put up a picture of myself...and yes, it's actually of me and not someone like Megan Fox/Charlize Theron/Stana Katic/my sister/etc...not that I would ever think about doing that).
After exchanging a few messages, one of the guys asked me about my stance on phone calls, so I tried to be honest without being a complete buzzkill. Some of you are probably already aware of this, but conversing via the phone is not my strong suit, not unless the person on the other end is Miss Chatty Cathy. I'm a good listener, I like to listen, and if you ask me questions, I will answer (most of the time). However, actively talking to a faceless voice? Not really my cup of tea. I prefer e-mail and face-to-face conversations (text messaging and Skype don't count). I did provide him with my cellphone number because I figured "What the hell! He's probably not gonna call anyways." Lo and behold, I didn't hear anything from him for almost a week...and then my phone rang earlier today (or yesterday evening, depending on when I get around to publishing this entry). Yes, it was him. He has a pleasant voice, which is good, and the beginning of our conversation went over well...until it was my turn to ask him something. So what did I do? Essentially it was "Tell me something about yourself. About your background." Why the f*** would I say something stupid like that?! It initially made sense to me because we had been talking a bit about my background, so why not ask him about his. Besides, I wasn't actually counting on him calling anymore, so you're going to have to forgive me for being caught off guard (at least a little bit). But yes, it was a bit of a rookie mistake (I guess?), and I was chastised for it. Supposedly, you can't just sit down next to someone and say something like that. I guess in the world of dating and relationships that's a big no-no...maybe even in general. Considering that we're still getting to know each other and that this was our first phone call, I wasn't really expecting to receive a lesson on etiquette. Well, not really etiquette in that sense, but kinda. As a result, I felt mildly aggravated and humiliated and a part of me just wanted to pull the emergency brake and get off the train at that point. In retrospect (since it's already been like seven hours), the feeling reminded me a bit of when I was younger and had to listen to my father lecture me on something that most people probably wouldn't have even noticed (or if they had, they would've made their slight disapproval known in a slightly less grand manner...my father isn't actually a bad guy...no seriously, he's not). Of course, now I'm thinking "Great! You make me feel stupid, just like my father and grandmother did/do occasionally... Let's get married!" We talked for a bit afterwards (I'll spare you the details), and as we encountered another incredibly awkward moment of silence, I decided to use it to end the conversation. I told him that I needed to make dinner (which I did), and asked him if we should set up a time for another phone call (supposedly, I can call him whenever...which kinda irks me...just a bit...it's kinda a lackadaisical attitude). Right now, I just get the feeling that he might belong to the group of people who have a tendency to talk down to me, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt because we haven't actually met in person. Who knows, maybe things will get better once I've gotten used to talking to him... I'm just not overly optimistic (I mean, optimistic according to my standards) about this right now.
Oh well, it's not like I know how this dating stuff works. I had to actively pursue my last boyfriend, and the only other relationships I had were during elementary school, so a looooooong time ago (Those were so much easier: "Hey! I like the way you run. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" *sigh* I'm so old...).
So yeah, that was my super depressing update about my "love" life. I still feel like someone punched me in the stomach (but I think I already felt like that prior to the phone call...), so hopefully that will pass. I dunno, maybe I'm overthinking things (I do tend to do that...)...
Alright, it's bedtime for me, probably not for you, but good night anyways!
I'll try to come up with more stuff to talk about for next week (hopefully). Then again, I have to take four exams next week, so I might have suffered a nervous breakdown by that point.
Regardless, take care!
So, like I mentioned, I am now a part of the online dating community and, oddly enough, do get the occasional message. A couple of weeks ago I started messaging two guys on a semi-regular basis: one of them more desirable due to proximity, one of them more desirable based off of the number of "MPs" (i.e.: matching points - the higher the number of MPs, the more compatible the two people supposedly are), one of them a bit more...for lack of a better word at this point...opinionated, one of them almost annoyingly upbeat, neither one of them seemingly able to provide a decent picture of their face (very superficial of me, I know, but I like to look at eyes and lips...not only at full-body pics...oh well, better than the guys who don't provide any pictures at all, I guess...and yes, I put up a picture of myself...and yes, it's actually of me and not someone like Megan Fox/Charlize Theron/Stana Katic/my sister/etc...not that I would ever think about doing that).
After exchanging a few messages, one of the guys asked me about my stance on phone calls, so I tried to be honest without being a complete buzzkill. Some of you are probably already aware of this, but conversing via the phone is not my strong suit, not unless the person on the other end is Miss Chatty Cathy. I'm a good listener, I like to listen, and if you ask me questions, I will answer (most of the time). However, actively talking to a faceless voice? Not really my cup of tea. I prefer e-mail and face-to-face conversations (text messaging and Skype don't count). I did provide him with my cellphone number because I figured "What the hell! He's probably not gonna call anyways." Lo and behold, I didn't hear anything from him for almost a week...and then my phone rang earlier today (or yesterday evening, depending on when I get around to publishing this entry). Yes, it was him. He has a pleasant voice, which is good, and the beginning of our conversation went over well...until it was my turn to ask him something. So what did I do? Essentially it was "Tell me something about yourself. About your background." Why the f*** would I say something stupid like that?! It initially made sense to me because we had been talking a bit about my background, so why not ask him about his. Besides, I wasn't actually counting on him calling anymore, so you're going to have to forgive me for being caught off guard (at least a little bit). But yes, it was a bit of a rookie mistake (I guess?), and I was chastised for it. Supposedly, you can't just sit down next to someone and say something like that. I guess in the world of dating and relationships that's a big no-no...maybe even in general. Considering that we're still getting to know each other and that this was our first phone call, I wasn't really expecting to receive a lesson on etiquette. Well, not really etiquette in that sense, but kinda. As a result, I felt mildly aggravated and humiliated and a part of me just wanted to pull the emergency brake and get off the train at that point. In retrospect (since it's already been like seven hours), the feeling reminded me a bit of when I was younger and had to listen to my father lecture me on something that most people probably wouldn't have even noticed (or if they had, they would've made their slight disapproval known in a slightly less grand manner...my father isn't actually a bad guy...no seriously, he's not). Of course, now I'm thinking "Great! You make me feel stupid, just like my father and grandmother did/do occasionally... Let's get married!" We talked for a bit afterwards (I'll spare you the details), and as we encountered another incredibly awkward moment of silence, I decided to use it to end the conversation. I told him that I needed to make dinner (which I did), and asked him if we should set up a time for another phone call (supposedly, I can call him whenever...which kinda irks me...just a bit...it's kinda a lackadaisical attitude). Right now, I just get the feeling that he might belong to the group of people who have a tendency to talk down to me, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt because we haven't actually met in person. Who knows, maybe things will get better once I've gotten used to talking to him... I'm just not overly optimistic (I mean, optimistic according to my standards) about this right now.
Oh well, it's not like I know how this dating stuff works. I had to actively pursue my last boyfriend, and the only other relationships I had were during elementary school, so a looooooong time ago (Those were so much easier: "Hey! I like the way you run. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" *sigh* I'm so old...).
So yeah, that was my super depressing update about my "love" life. I still feel like someone punched me in the stomach (but I think I already felt like that prior to the phone call...), so hopefully that will pass. I dunno, maybe I'm overthinking things (I do tend to do that...)...
Alright, it's bedtime for me, probably not for you, but good night anyways!
I'll try to come up with more stuff to talk about for next week (hopefully). Then again, I have to take four exams next week, so I might have suffered a nervous breakdown by that point.
Regardless, take care!
Sunday, January 26, 2014
To withdraw or not to withdraw...
As some of you might have noticed (by some I mean everyone who is friends with me on Facebook...which equates to one, maybe two of you), I have stopped typing up elaborate comments on various articles. Not that any of you really care (or have even noticed).
I've been trying to keep my mouth shut and fingers from the keyboard as much as possible. Sure, sometimes I'll still like a(n) comment/article, maybe I'll type a short sentence, or write something if it's someone's birthday. It's not like I want to come off as a complete douche (not that anyone would really notice that either).
So, why would I go from typing up comments and trying to entertain my friends to not wanting to type up anything at all (on Facebook at least...I hardly use Twitter, and special rules apply to this blog...you're all here at your own risk)?
To put it simply: I've become disgusted with myself. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of you are thinking. "How is this different from how you usually feel about yourself? Is this supposed to be news?" Well, no, this wasn't meant to be some kind of revelation. It's a bit weird to explain, but my self-loathing just managed to reach a new depth, that's all. I guess I just got beyond disgusted by my own comments that were becoming increasingly depressing...to me. And if I, as someone who is always already mildly depressed, manage to make myself even more depressed, then how are the people on my friends list going to feel? Granted, I've been known to say that I would rather have everyone hate me, but if you don't already hate me, then, I'm sorry to say, I don't have the energy to go out of my way to make you hate me. I need that energy to keep myself from curling up in the fetal position and sobbing hysterically every five seconds. Just kidding...maybe...not really. (Okay, it's not that bad...today at least.)
Anyways, I just didn't like what I was typing up anymore. Besides, hardly anyone was reading them (I don't know this for sure, but let's just say it's an educated guess), and even if someone was, what is he/she gonna say? "OMG, you need to talk to a professional about this" or "You should end your life ASAP"? Even if someone wanted to help, he/she couldn't.
And no, none of you needs to be concerned about me. If nothing has happened to me in the past 28 years, nothing will happen now either. I still have to finish working on my MA and then pay off my student loans... Oh, and there's always my precious ball of fluff (no, not that "fluff")...that is currently living with my parents and the rest of the Fluff Brigade. *sad*
I guess things could be worse: It could still be Monday. For some reason (depression, obviously), I could not stop myself from crying. Writing about my feelings *sob*, talking to one of the Japanese teachers *sob*, watching American Dad *sob* (that last one isn't true, but I did cry a looooot). Actually, Sunday and Tuesday weren't that pleasant either, but Monday was bad.
Maybe reading all of those articles and processing them in my comments wasn't the wisest choice... Especially since many of them just made me feel like a complete failure, which I am, but I shouldn't necessarily be subjecting myself to constant confirmations of said fact from outside sources. I'm also guessing that another contributing factor was the last phone call with my parents (which took place on Sunday...last Sunday). Even though I'm usually slightly less depressed, if not neutral, after talking to my parents, somehow this last conversation just completely irked me. I don't need rainbows blown up my ass every single time I talk to them, or anyone else for that matter, but something was...off. More than likely, I was already so depressed at that point that everything my parents said just sounded more negative and critical. I guess I'll find out when I talk to them later (it's already Sunday for me).
Of course, I'm still not completely out of the woods yet. There are several other factors contributing to my current blue mood, so it probably won't go away for a while. I won't mention all of them because that would probably be enough to fill a whole series of books (or provide enough material for ten Woody Allen films). Maybe I'll talk about what else is on my mind in future posts, but for now this incoherent, sad little update will have to do.
Will I return to typing up lengthy comments on Facebook? I don't know. I probably shouldn't. Most of my friends seem to be too busy enjoying life (or Candy Crush) to be bothered with my rants, so I might be better off saving my thoughts for here.
Oh well...since it's way past my bedtime and I still haven't been able to organize my thoughts properly, I should stop here and try and get some sleep. By the way, if you see me, just please refrain from asking me how I'm doing. At least for the time being. Just assume that I'm doing okay because that's all I'm going to tell you anyways. It's the one thing I'll lie about. Don't want to, but I also don't want to risk talking about how depressed I actually am. At least in person. The blog is different. That way I can cry without having anyone look at me. So, it would be really great if you could just keep the conversation light for now.
Oh, and thanks for listening (well, reading)! Maybe next time I can write about something funny and lighthearted, like sex. What can I say? I have a weird sense of humor...
I've been trying to keep my mouth shut and fingers from the keyboard as much as possible. Sure, sometimes I'll still like a(n) comment/article, maybe I'll type a short sentence, or write something if it's someone's birthday. It's not like I want to come off as a complete douche (not that anyone would really notice that either).
So, why would I go from typing up comments and trying to entertain my friends to not wanting to type up anything at all (on Facebook at least...I hardly use Twitter, and special rules apply to this blog...you're all here at your own risk)?
To put it simply: I've become disgusted with myself. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of you are thinking. "How is this different from how you usually feel about yourself? Is this supposed to be news?" Well, no, this wasn't meant to be some kind of revelation. It's a bit weird to explain, but my self-loathing just managed to reach a new depth, that's all. I guess I just got beyond disgusted by my own comments that were becoming increasingly depressing...to me. And if I, as someone who is always already mildly depressed, manage to make myself even more depressed, then how are the people on my friends list going to feel? Granted, I've been known to say that I would rather have everyone hate me, but if you don't already hate me, then, I'm sorry to say, I don't have the energy to go out of my way to make you hate me. I need that energy to keep myself from curling up in the fetal position and sobbing hysterically every five seconds. Just kidding...maybe...not really. (Okay, it's not that bad...today at least.)
Anyways, I just didn't like what I was typing up anymore. Besides, hardly anyone was reading them (I don't know this for sure, but let's just say it's an educated guess), and even if someone was, what is he/she gonna say? "OMG, you need to talk to a professional about this" or "You should end your life ASAP"? Even if someone wanted to help, he/she couldn't.
And no, none of you needs to be concerned about me. If nothing has happened to me in the past 28 years, nothing will happen now either. I still have to finish working on my MA and then pay off my student loans... Oh, and there's always my precious ball of fluff (no, not that "fluff")...that is currently living with my parents and the rest of the Fluff Brigade. *sad*
I guess things could be worse: It could still be Monday. For some reason (depression, obviously), I could not stop myself from crying. Writing about my feelings *sob*, talking to one of the Japanese teachers *sob*, watching American Dad *sob* (that last one isn't true, but I did cry a looooot). Actually, Sunday and Tuesday weren't that pleasant either, but Monday was bad.
Maybe reading all of those articles and processing them in my comments wasn't the wisest choice... Especially since many of them just made me feel like a complete failure, which I am, but I shouldn't necessarily be subjecting myself to constant confirmations of said fact from outside sources. I'm also guessing that another contributing factor was the last phone call with my parents (which took place on Sunday...last Sunday). Even though I'm usually slightly less depressed, if not neutral, after talking to my parents, somehow this last conversation just completely irked me. I don't need rainbows blown up my ass every single time I talk to them, or anyone else for that matter, but something was...off. More than likely, I was already so depressed at that point that everything my parents said just sounded more negative and critical. I guess I'll find out when I talk to them later (it's already Sunday for me).
Of course, I'm still not completely out of the woods yet. There are several other factors contributing to my current blue mood, so it probably won't go away for a while. I won't mention all of them because that would probably be enough to fill a whole series of books (or provide enough material for ten Woody Allen films). Maybe I'll talk about what else is on my mind in future posts, but for now this incoherent, sad little update will have to do.
Will I return to typing up lengthy comments on Facebook? I don't know. I probably shouldn't. Most of my friends seem to be too busy enjoying life (or Candy Crush) to be bothered with my rants, so I might be better off saving my thoughts for here.
Oh well...since it's way past my bedtime and I still haven't been able to organize my thoughts properly, I should stop here and try and get some sleep. By the way, if you see me, just please refrain from asking me how I'm doing. At least for the time being. Just assume that I'm doing okay because that's all I'm going to tell you anyways. It's the one thing I'll lie about. Don't want to, but I also don't want to risk talking about how depressed I actually am. At least in person. The blog is different. That way I can cry without having anyone look at me. So, it would be really great if you could just keep the conversation light for now.
Oh, and thanks for listening (well, reading)! Maybe next time I can write about something funny and lighthearted, like sex. What can I say? I have a weird sense of humor...
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Struggling with feminism...
Today I've decided to share my thoughts on this particular blog entry that deals with the issue of feminism. I was going to write something short and potentially funny, yet slightly profound, on my Facebook wall, but then I couldn't get myself to shut up, so I figured: Why not publish it on my blog?
So what can I say about this before I pass out? Personally, I don't like the term "feminist". This is probably due to the fact that this and any related terms hold a negative connotation for me. Many times when I hear someone call themselves a "feminist", they either do so while engaging in the "oh-so-fun" male-bashing or they happen to be someone like Miley Cyrus. Now, despite the fact that I have been known to crush a few male egos (it really is a gift...j/k), I love men. I mean, I loooooove men! Was that too much?
In addition to that, I can't really identify with most feminists, so I would never think of calling myself one. I hold doors open for men and women alike; if I am financially able to, I am more than willing to pay for others (unless it happens ALL the time, and I don't get ANYTHING in return...); I tend to naturally get along with men more than with women (because let's face it, women can be bitches...then again, so can men...); etc. I just don't buy into the whole "men have to do/be this, women have to do/be that".
As for the engagement ring, here's a news flash: You don't need one to be engaged. They're 1) too expensive (I mean, seriously, do you know how much a 1-carat stone costs? Go ahead, google it, I'll wait...), and it is too impractical/potentially dangerous for a klutz like me (Come one, when will I wear it? When I'm out and about, hanging out with my friends? Pfffft... Besides, it would probably lead to my death anyways, just like new socks...and errant razor blades...).
Unfortunately, it is still true that many men are raised to be fearless, which oddly enough does result in a fear of fear and vulnerability. That being said, I have the same issue, but this probably has more to do with a combination of me wanting to make my father, the Army of One in persona, proud (tut mir leid Mama...hdl), and me not ever wanting to be hurt by anyone ever again (that is its own little story that doesn't need to be elaborated on at this time).
However, while I do believe in equality between the sexes (if someone is better qualified for a job, they a) deserve to be hired for that job, and b) deserve to receive an adequate pay, regardless of whether their reproductive organs are laid out according to feng shui or not...you might not want to quote me on that one), I will openly confess that I do worry from time to time that men find me too intimidating... I mean, do they? I honestly dunno...it would explain the lack of a boyfriend... Maybe one of you guys could tell me? Or maybe one of the guys could tell me? I actually am kinda curious about that...
Anyways...all in all, I guess I can be considered to be a feminist in some ways, but I wouldn't restrict myself to that label. It really boils down to: Are you a decent human being? Yes? Then we'll get along and I can respect you. If you want to act like an asshole, fine, just don't expect me to respect or interact with you. That applies to everyone equally...well, except for family, you're kinda stuck with those people...
So, what do you guys think of feminism? Should everyone be one? Would you consider yourselves to be feminists? Let me know.
So what can I say about this before I pass out? Personally, I don't like the term "feminist". This is probably due to the fact that this and any related terms hold a negative connotation for me. Many times when I hear someone call themselves a "feminist", they either do so while engaging in the "oh-so-fun" male-bashing or they happen to be someone like Miley Cyrus. Now, despite the fact that I have been known to crush a few male egos (it really is a gift...j/k), I love men. I mean, I loooooove men! Was that too much?
In addition to that, I can't really identify with most feminists, so I would never think of calling myself one. I hold doors open for men and women alike; if I am financially able to, I am more than willing to pay for others (unless it happens ALL the time, and I don't get ANYTHING in return...); I tend to naturally get along with men more than with women (because let's face it, women can be bitches...then again, so can men...); etc. I just don't buy into the whole "men have to do/be this, women have to do/be that".
As for the engagement ring, here's a news flash: You don't need one to be engaged. They're 1) too expensive (I mean, seriously, do you know how much a 1-carat stone costs? Go ahead, google it, I'll wait...), and it is too impractical/potentially dangerous for a klutz like me (Come one, when will I wear it? When I'm out and about, hanging out with my friends? Pfffft... Besides, it would probably lead to my death anyways, just like new socks...and errant razor blades...).
Unfortunately, it is still true that many men are raised to be fearless, which oddly enough does result in a fear of fear and vulnerability. That being said, I have the same issue, but this probably has more to do with a combination of me wanting to make my father, the Army of One in persona, proud (tut mir leid Mama...hdl), and me not ever wanting to be hurt by anyone ever again (that is its own little story that doesn't need to be elaborated on at this time).
However, while I do believe in equality between the sexes (if someone is better qualified for a job, they a) deserve to be hired for that job, and b) deserve to receive an adequate pay, regardless of whether their reproductive organs are laid out according to feng shui or not...you might not want to quote me on that one), I will openly confess that I do worry from time to time that men find me too intimidating... I mean, do they? I honestly dunno...it would explain the lack of a boyfriend... Maybe one of you guys could tell me? Or maybe one of the guys could tell me? I actually am kinda curious about that...
Anyways...all in all, I guess I can be considered to be a feminist in some ways, but I wouldn't restrict myself to that label. It really boils down to: Are you a decent human being? Yes? Then we'll get along and I can respect you. If you want to act like an asshole, fine, just don't expect me to respect or interact with you. That applies to everyone equally...well, except for family, you're kinda stuck with those people...
So, what do you guys think of feminism? Should everyone be one? Would you consider yourselves to be feminists? Let me know.
Thursday, December 05, 2013
A bit of self-hatred
Here you lie before me, yet again. Looking at me with those wide eyes. Do you expect any mercy from me? Whenever I look at you, my hate towards you increases. As much as I want to kill you, I know that a simple and quick death will never do. I want to hurt you, I want to see you suffer, I want to hear you scream. Just give up, accept the inevitable, let me take over. Give me your soul so that I can tear it to shreds. I don't want any part of you to survive. Are you crying? That's so cute..and pointless. Everyone has a breaking point, even you, so just give in. Fighting me won't save you. So what should I use on you first: the baseball bat, the knives...how about some of sulfuric acid? What did I say? Fighting won't help. Oh, you still think that someone will come and save you from me? Assuming that there is someone interested in saving you, how will they stop me? We're inseparable, aren't we? But all joking aside, nobody will come to save you. Because nobody really likes you. No, nobody ever has. They all hate you. Everyone has been lying to you. They always have. I'll be doing them a favor by killing you. That's right, nobody will miss you. Oh ssshhh, it's alright... Now, where to start? Do I break your kneecaps? Dislocate your shoulders? Or should I just go ahead and cut off that ugly face of yours? Do you know how many people have been traumatized after looking at that...whatever it's supposed to be? I would be doing everyone a great favor by removing it. Don't worry, this will actually be an improvement to the way you looked before. Oh, and don't cry over missing out on love, sex, and happiness. Nobody wants you anyways. Let's face it, someone would have to be really fucked up to be interested in you. That's it, can't you feel the calm descending on you? Give in to the inevitable. Let me save you from yourself and this pathetic existence of yours.
Sunday, December 01, 2013
Death of Selflessness
Before I start with the actual entry, I would like to apologize, yet again, for not updating my blog more often. I promise to do my best, and hopefully, I will be able to provide you guys (whoever you may be) with more frequent and entertaining rants/stories/etc. on a more regular basis.
Alright, on to the main event: The following is a short story I wrote in November 2008 for one of my classes. I don't want to go into too much detail, but there were a couple of things that happened to me in that year which may have influenced the storyline just a wee bit. When I started out, all I knew was how I wanted the story to end, and so I basically worked my way backwards. It isn't the best story in the world, I discovered a few things that I wanted to change as I was retyping it for this blog, but I got a good grade for it, the instructor liked it, so (with a few tiny exceptions) I left it the way it was. Feel free to comment or not comment, either way I hope you all enjoy it!
“Wait! You forgot your lunch!” “Ah, you are too good to me,” Jacob replied as he gave Rebecca a kiss on the lips. “Yeah, yeah...just leave or you'll be late for work.” Laughing, Jacob drove off, and as his taillights disappeared in the distance, Rebecca let out a long sigh, placed her hands on her hips and returned to the house. The house always seemed so dark when Jacob was gone, even with all the curtains and windows open. “So depressing...,” was all Rebecca managed to mutter as she let herself plop onto the living room couch. After turning on the television and realizing that, as always, nothing interesting was on at eight in the morning, she turned the television back off and stared blankly at the wall.
Rebecca and Jacob had lived in their six-bedroom house for three years now. She personally felt that living in such a huge house was overkill, but since she knew that it would please her husband, she had decided to give in. Yes, Jacob and Rebecca were married, even though the road to the wedding had been littered with its own share of bumps and potholes. They had separated five times before finally settling down. Each break-up had its own reason: Jacob cheated on Rebecca, Rebecca cheated on Jacob, he thought Rebecca had cheated on him, Rebecca went to Europe to advance her career, and the cause of the final break-up was Rebecca's pregnancy. This last separation had been especially devastating and surprisingly unifying at the same time. Jacob had run out on her, and Rebecca had gotten into a horrible accident. It had been so damaging that she ended up losing the child. When Jacob had come crawling back with an increased amount of affection for her after the miscarriage, all she had wanted to do was shove a few fuck yous up his ass, but she eventually took him back anyway, mainly because she saw how miserable he was without her. Funny, Jacob never struck anyone as the miserable type. He was, after all, a CEO at a Fortune 500 company...
Still staring at the wall as if in a hypnotic state, Rebecca couldn't help but think that having a child would keep her preoccupied...and of course, how different her life would be if she hadn't miscarried. However, she couldn't possibly have a child now...well, SHE could. Her body had managed to recover from that experience. Unfortunately, Jacob was still very adamant about not having kids, which is odd considering that he was hardly ever home to begin with. Being the good wife that she was, Rebecca had given in...and secretly hated herself for it. That was just the way it seemed to be lately...or maybe it hadn't been that way just lately. She had always catered to everyone else's needs and wants, and during the times she had to herself, Rebecca just didn't know what to do. “No wonder I'm so bored whenever Jacob's at work. I have nobody to look after but myself,” Rebecca said to nobody in particular, “Am I really that pathetic?”
Twelve hours later and nobody to talk to but herself, Rebecca was fuming. Her husband should have been back three hours ago, and he didn't even have the courtesy to call her and let her know that he would be late. Sure, Rebecca could have spent hours on end chatting and hanging out with her friends, but most of them lived overseas. She could have spent time with her mother, but she lived faraway, and talking to her was also out of the question because she had to learn to live on her own and not constantly rely on her mother. Rebecca hated shopping or partying or any type of socializing, and so had no other choice than to stay at home...and think. Most days, she didn't mind being alone, but today was an entirely different story. She had built up a rage to end all of modern civilization if packaged in a nuclear weapon, and that upset her even more because she couldn't explain this extreme onslaught of hostility. And yet, here she was, stewing in it, with Jacob set up as the most convenient target. Somehow, after spending most of her life living for others, all of a sudden, she was sick of it. Something had to be done, and before this black hole of self-neglect swallowed her whole... There he was...that selfish prick of a husband. “Hey sweetheart! I missed you soooo much! There was so much work to do...,” Jacob exclaimed while swooping down and showering Rebecca with tender kisses. Usually, this gesture would have been enough to placate Rebecca; instead it just added fuel to the fire. To keep herself from blowing up at him, she tried to say as little as possible, and therefore could only reply with a dry “Aha...” Of course, she was thinking about slapping that stupid grin off his face, but she figured that physical violence was still uncalled for. “Just let him push me a little bit further,” was all she could think while grinding her teeth. Everything would have gone well, and Rebecca would have calmed down if Jacob hadn't said this: “Sooo, what's for dinner, lover?” “First off, save yourself the sweet talk, and how does a fist down your throat sound for dinner?!” “Umm, not good? What's wrong, hon...” “What did I say about the sweet talk? Zip it. If you want something to eat, you can make it your damned self. I'm sick and tired of catering to your lazy ass! Yeah, you might earn most of the money, but at least you get to leave this depressing hole for eight to ten hours every day. I've done whatever you have wanted me to: I took you back after you cheated on me; I groveled before you, begging you to take me back after I cheated on you; I accepted your apology and took you back again after you falsely accused me of cheating on you; I refused a prestigious position at one of the leading international publishing companies so I could be with you; and then, I took you back again after you left me when I was pregnant and then miscarried!!! Why? Because you were so pathetic, I thought you were going to slit your wrists! And still...that's not enough, is it?! I'm a good housewife! I stay in shape for you! I do things in the bedroom that I could never, NEVER, mention to a living soul! And most importantly...I desperately want children, but because you're still so “traumatized,” I can never have children! I mean what's the point of this damn six-bedroom house, if we aren't going to fill it with children...or other people anyways! And why do I settle for not having any children? Because I am TOO FUCKING GOOD TO YOU!!!!” Storming out of the house, she heard Jacob yell something, but she couldn't have cared less about him at that moment. Rebecca was feeling energized and free as she drove off in her car. She didn't know where she was going or what she was going to do once she got to this unknown destination, but she felt lighter than she had felt since...well, ever. It hit her about fifteen minutes later: hunger...and something else, something rather sneaky... She hadn't meant to blow up at him like that. What would happen once she got back home? Will Jacob have changed the locks? Put her things on the street? File for divorce? This guilt and anxiety started to eat away at her in much the same way as she wanted to eat away at burritos, hamburgers, and huge bowls of spaghetti drowned in tomato sauce and shredded cheese. Chewing on her lower lip until it bled, she fought with herself about whether she had been in the right or the wrong. “Yes, a conversation was necessary, but that wasn't a conversation...that was me tearing him a new asshole... It's my fault because I could have just stopped catering to him all the time, and haven't I always been that way towards everyone? He should be more sensitive towards my needs and wants though too...” This mental and emotional war of worlds went on until Rebecca could have passed for one of the wax figures at Madame Tussaud's. Old habits die hard, and before Rebecca could smother the last bit of life out of her self-destructive selflessness, it came back with a vengeance. She decided to not only get herself something to eat, but also decided to get Jacob his favorite fast food. While waiting for the food, she thought to herself, “We'll get through this somehow. We just need to have a calm, more thorough conversation about this. We can work it out.” A new spring in her step, smile on her face, and food in her hands, she was ready for a new start. For a new Rebecca, who could be selfless and take care of herself as well. She couldn't wait. However, she would have to wait forever for she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She was confused. Confused as to why she was losing control over her body. Confused as to why her shirt was getting wetter and wetter and darker and darker. Confused as to why the ground was getting closer and closer to her face. Confused as to why the world around her was getting darker and darker. Somehow she now knew what was happening as she started crying. “No...I can't...not now...” was all she could say before everything went completely dark.
The next morning the police reported that a young woman named Rebecca Marie James had died from a gunshot wound to the abdominal region at the age of 28. On an even sadder note, her unborn child had also died. To this day, nobody knows who shot her or why. Many people who knew her intimately, not that there were many people who knew her to begin with, also asked themselves what her last thought could have been. If they had truly known her, it would have become clear that the last thought would not have been of what she would lose. Even though it seems silly, she could only think of getting her husband his food.
Alright, on to the main event: The following is a short story I wrote in November 2008 for one of my classes. I don't want to go into too much detail, but there were a couple of things that happened to me in that year which may have influenced the storyline just a wee bit. When I started out, all I knew was how I wanted the story to end, and so I basically worked my way backwards. It isn't the best story in the world, I discovered a few things that I wanted to change as I was retyping it for this blog, but I got a good grade for it, the instructor liked it, so (with a few tiny exceptions) I left it the way it was. Feel free to comment or not comment, either way I hope you all enjoy it!
Death of Selflessness
Twelve hours later and nobody to talk to but herself, Rebecca was fuming. Her husband should have been back three hours ago, and he didn't even have the courtesy to call her and let her know that he would be late. Sure, Rebecca could have spent hours on end chatting and hanging out with her friends, but most of them lived overseas. She could have spent time with her mother, but she lived faraway, and talking to her was also out of the question because she had to learn to live on her own and not constantly rely on her mother. Rebecca hated shopping or partying or any type of socializing, and so had no other choice than to stay at home...and think. Most days, she didn't mind being alone, but today was an entirely different story. She had built up a rage to end all of modern civilization if packaged in a nuclear weapon, and that upset her even more because she couldn't explain this extreme onslaught of hostility. And yet, here she was, stewing in it, with Jacob set up as the most convenient target. Somehow, after spending most of her life living for others, all of a sudden, she was sick of it. Something had to be done, and before this black hole of self-neglect swallowed her whole... There he was...that selfish prick of a husband. “Hey sweetheart! I missed you soooo much! There was so much work to do...,” Jacob exclaimed while swooping down and showering Rebecca with tender kisses. Usually, this gesture would have been enough to placate Rebecca; instead it just added fuel to the fire. To keep herself from blowing up at him, she tried to say as little as possible, and therefore could only reply with a dry “Aha...” Of course, she was thinking about slapping that stupid grin off his face, but she figured that physical violence was still uncalled for. “Just let him push me a little bit further,” was all she could think while grinding her teeth. Everything would have gone well, and Rebecca would have calmed down if Jacob hadn't said this: “Sooo, what's for dinner, lover?” “First off, save yourself the sweet talk, and how does a fist down your throat sound for dinner?!” “Umm, not good? What's wrong, hon...” “What did I say about the sweet talk? Zip it. If you want something to eat, you can make it your damned self. I'm sick and tired of catering to your lazy ass! Yeah, you might earn most of the money, but at least you get to leave this depressing hole for eight to ten hours every day. I've done whatever you have wanted me to: I took you back after you cheated on me; I groveled before you, begging you to take me back after I cheated on you; I accepted your apology and took you back again after you falsely accused me of cheating on you; I refused a prestigious position at one of the leading international publishing companies so I could be with you; and then, I took you back again after you left me when I was pregnant and then miscarried!!! Why? Because you were so pathetic, I thought you were going to slit your wrists! And still...that's not enough, is it?! I'm a good housewife! I stay in shape for you! I do things in the bedroom that I could never, NEVER, mention to a living soul! And most importantly...I desperately want children, but because you're still so “traumatized,” I can never have children! I mean what's the point of this damn six-bedroom house, if we aren't going to fill it with children...or other people anyways! And why do I settle for not having any children? Because I am TOO FUCKING GOOD TO YOU!!!!” Storming out of the house, she heard Jacob yell something, but she couldn't have cared less about him at that moment. Rebecca was feeling energized and free as she drove off in her car. She didn't know where she was going or what she was going to do once she got to this unknown destination, but she felt lighter than she had felt since...well, ever. It hit her about fifteen minutes later: hunger...and something else, something rather sneaky... She hadn't meant to blow up at him like that. What would happen once she got back home? Will Jacob have changed the locks? Put her things on the street? File for divorce? This guilt and anxiety started to eat away at her in much the same way as she wanted to eat away at burritos, hamburgers, and huge bowls of spaghetti drowned in tomato sauce and shredded cheese. Chewing on her lower lip until it bled, she fought with herself about whether she had been in the right or the wrong. “Yes, a conversation was necessary, but that wasn't a conversation...that was me tearing him a new asshole... It's my fault because I could have just stopped catering to him all the time, and haven't I always been that way towards everyone? He should be more sensitive towards my needs and wants though too...” This mental and emotional war of worlds went on until Rebecca could have passed for one of the wax figures at Madame Tussaud's. Old habits die hard, and before Rebecca could smother the last bit of life out of her self-destructive selflessness, it came back with a vengeance. She decided to not only get herself something to eat, but also decided to get Jacob his favorite fast food. While waiting for the food, she thought to herself, “We'll get through this somehow. We just need to have a calm, more thorough conversation about this. We can work it out.” A new spring in her step, smile on her face, and food in her hands, she was ready for a new start. For a new Rebecca, who could be selfless and take care of herself as well. She couldn't wait. However, she would have to wait forever for she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She was confused. Confused as to why she was losing control over her body. Confused as to why her shirt was getting wetter and wetter and darker and darker. Confused as to why the ground was getting closer and closer to her face. Confused as to why the world around her was getting darker and darker. Somehow she now knew what was happening as she started crying. “No...I can't...not now...” was all she could say before everything went completely dark.
The next morning the police reported that a young woman named Rebecca Marie James had died from a gunshot wound to the abdominal region at the age of 28. On an even sadder note, her unborn child had also died. To this day, nobody knows who shot her or why. Many people who knew her intimately, not that there were many people who knew her to begin with, also asked themselves what her last thought could have been. If they had truly known her, it would have become clear that the last thought would not have been of what she would lose. Even though it seems silly, she could only think of getting her husband his food.
Tuesday, July 02, 2013
Letters (Part One)
Dear everyone who crosses my path,
Why the frack are you staring at me? Is there something wrong with my appearance? Are my shoelaces untied? Is my fly undone? Am I bleeding profusely? Do I have all of Kpop-dom sitting on my head? What is up with the staring? Is this possibly the first time you've ever seen a human being?
When you guys (and girls) stare at me like that and it's not just an isolated incident, there are a few things that happen: 1) I worry, 2) I get paranoid, and 3) I get pissed off. Luckily for you, my parents raised me to not randomly punch people in the face, which is good for you, but not necessarily so healthy for an angry Bettina. If you're staring at me because I'm tall and fat, I know. If it's because of the big boobs, I know. If it's because I have fish eyes, this too I know.
As much as you people are staring, I might as well move to Asia or Africa because at least then I could understand the staring. The bizarre thing is, about 99.99% of the people staring at me are fellow Europeans and Americans. Congratulations! You've all been deemed impolite d-bags, who should know better and should be ashamed of yourselves. Thank you for helping me reaffirm my choice in future continent of residence.
Sincerely,
Borderline Ticked-Off
Monday, March 04, 2013
Much-needed Update
Hey everybody,
I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I know you've gone with longer periods of radio silence, but still. I haven't posted in so long because I wanted to prep some countdown posts for my blog, but I can't seem to focus or get my internet to cooperate with me long enough to get much of anything accomplished. In addition to that, school has taken over most of my daily life (as it should).
So what's been going on with me? A cold, mostly. Oh, and research for my two papers that are due by the end of this month. Of course, there's always K-Pop to listen to...oh, but wait...you guys don't even know about that development, do you? Well, that is unless you've been paying attention to my Facebook or have actually been around me these last few months.
Anyways, the plan for the next few posts will be a series of countdowns. They should be very video-heavy, and hopefully, quite enjoyable. Also in the works, videos of yours truly. Yes, I want to try and post videos of myself. Why? Because I'm that self-absorbed. I don't know.
Look forward to all the fun!
Take care,
Bettina
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Things I am grateful for
Since today is Thanksgiving, I have decided to compile a list of things/people I am grateful for. Hence the title "Things I am grateful for"... I know, how very original. Just read...or don't.
1) Being back in school: Let's face it, there's nothing more sobering than returning to school and realizing how stupid you are compared to all dem youngsters out there. If I had at least had a job that utilized my educational skills then I could overlook this nagging feeling of inadequacy, but that just wasn't the case. However, I do love being back in school. It provides me with certain challenges that can be quite painful sometimes, but I would much rather take this kind of stress than having to witness the slow and excruciatingly painful decay of my brain.
2) A lack of hand sanitizers: Thank you Germany for not being obsessed with sterilization! Sure I've seen antiseptic sprays, but I can count off on one hand how often I've seen them. You just don't see people here whip out their hand sanitizers everytime they've thought about touching something. If you want clean hands you simply wash your hands with water and soap. What a novel concept, right? Plus, this also means that you won't hear "Oh, I can skip washing my hands. I'll just use the hand sanitizer." after someone uses the restroom. *shudder*
3) Public transportation: I don't have to worry about gas. I don't have to worry about parking. I don't have to worry about traffic. Sure, I have to share a space with other people and sometimes I have to stand in the bus or street car, but I'll gladly do that than be worried about all of these car-related issues. Oh, and you're not necessarily faster if you do decide to drive. So that's out the window too. Here's another bonus for you party people: You don't have to worry about drinking and driving. You can go out and have a few drinks and then just stumble into the bus or street car.
4) Eye candy: Sorry people, I have needs too. The number of attractive people is quite a bit higher here than at my last place of residence. I know: "How dare you be so superficial? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Uhh, yeah, I have. I know what I look like. I'm not saying that I want to date a skinny or overly pretty guy or anything like that (a wicked sense of humor, intellect, and amazing voice do trump muscle mass), but I can still appreciate physically attractive people. To me it's more like going to a museum and appreciating the various works of art. "Oh, how can you objectify people like that?" It's simple: Until I become acquainted with you on a personal level, you're another living creature sharing this space. It's not like I'm going out of my way to ignore people, but if you don't give me the slightest of clues that you want to interact with me then I'm not gonna bother you. 'Nuf said.
5) The expected: My parents: I would like to express my gratitude for having tolerant and accepting parents. Yes, we have our issues, but when I look at the way some of my friends are treated by their parents and families, I am fully aware that my parents are genuinely good people. They don't care if you're gay/straight/bi/trans/black/blue/Hispanic/Asian/etc., but you can't be an asshole or complete douche. My parents never mentioned how they felt about other groups, so I grew up blissfully unaware of this unnecessary hate and discrimination that so many people seem to have. My parents might have made a few mistakes in their time, but raising a bunch of blindly prejudiced fools was not one of them.
6) My siblings: I have to mention them because otherwise war might break out (j/k...kinda). Both of them still have quite a bit of growing up to do, and they really need to learn how to become more self-aware, but both have their hearts in the right place. So, you two, continue to work on yourselves and everything should be fine.
7) My nephew: Yes, he deserves his own spot on this list. He's such a cutie. I can already tell that he's gonna be a complete heartthrob, and he's going to be one of the coolest people ever because anyone who can enjoy RuPaul, "Gangnam Style," and Family Guy is a shining beacon of hope for humanity. Then again, I am his aunt, so he has no choice but to be cool, right? (I'm not conceited at all...) Who knows, maybe I'm just really grateful to have a disciple to corrupt. *mwahhahaha*
8) The kitties(!!!): Of course, the kitties deserve a place here. They're kinda like my children. My moody, fluffy, children with claws. Without them life would honestly be terrible. Sure they can be irritating, but there is this unconditional love, and in a world filled with people who, at times, fake feelings of love and compassion in order to gain some kind of benefit or advantage, I can come home to my cats and know that they at least don't hate me.
9) The people who accept me for who I am: Some of you know that I have said that life would be easier if everyone just hated me, and it's still true. If everyone hates you then you don't have to care about what you say or do. In fact, I still don't know why you guys like me (or merely tolerate me) or miss me. However, it's you, who make life more tolerable, naughty and fun.
10) Booze: Yeah, I needed one more point so that people wouldn't be confused by a list that only includes nine points. Alcohol definitely is my drug of choice. Seriously, can't you hear my liver screaming. Just kidding, if it were to actually start screaming, it certainly wouldn't be because of the friggin' booze.
Anyway, that's it. If you've made it this far without bleeding profusely from your eyes and ears, congratulations! Yeah, that's all you're gonna get. I mean, what do you want? A cookie? Some kind of medal? Get outta here! Get off da friggin' internets and spend some time with your family unit of choice, okay? Happy Thanksgiving to everyone and bonne chance with surviving Black Friday...ugh, I know, I feel so bad for you. All those people going psycho over stuff that they're only buying because it's marked down...I mean, the volume is insane, and try talking to customers with all that noise and suffering from a sore throat...it's like you're at some kind of night club, except the music sucks (well, mainly because there is no music) and there is no booze (wouldn't it be more fun for the employees to be completely liquored up?)...oh wait! Something else to be grateful for: NO BLACK FRIDAY!!! Because it doesn't exist in Germany! Thank you! Yes, winning! Winning! Oh, I mean, oooohhhh...
Until next time!!!
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