sometimes, i wish i could swear off men for real
Went out with the college friends yesterday and before anything else, I'd like to give a shout out to my friend Justin for waiting for me to get picked up by my dad at midnight on godforsaken West Avenue even though he could have just ridden the bus and left me on my own. Reminds me of this post and how I'm so grateful I have guy friends who don't think twice about staying up with a girl just to know she's safe.
He could have left me there you know, and I'd have understood, but he didn't and though doing the opposite wouldn't have made him a bastard, the fact that he stayed makes him a Real Good Guy in my book.
Aww Bils, I'd hug you if I could right now.
And speaking of men, there is this guy (he will only be identified in this post with the pointedly ambiguous italics) who put both his hands on my waist to move me from the path of a busy waitress at the birthday party we went to yesterday. Now, I'm not saying there's anything explicitly wrong with that, but it's that kind of thing that makes me straighten like a cold metal ruler got shoved down my shirt, because that is my waist and there could have been 10 different ways he could have called my attention to the fact that I was in a sort of precarious situation, and what he did doesn't qualify. It was like that one time Lester was hiking his hand up my thigh, and I didn't tell him off because he was gay and I can't tell people off for shit.
My point is though, that one day if anybody tries to pull another stunt like that, somebody's balls are going to get yanked off, friend or no friend. As a general rule (for me), I feel like maybe you should only touch your female friends' in places you'd touch on your guy friends, and vice versa. I mean, would you move your guy friend out of the way of danger by his waist? I don't think so, champ. It's weird, distantly creepy, and ohmygod I have the perfect word, inappropriate. I think that the only time this kind of thing is okay is if we had some sort of special friendship that allows for this sort of thing, and we don't. Bloody hell, I barely speak to this guy anymore, much less allow physical contact.
And oh my lord, I have another obnoxiously long spiel about another guy that we happened to pass by that night.
So there we were, at Bed Room at around 10pm, and in the table next to us is a guy straight out of a fucking Jpop album. And you know how I have this weird obsession with the she-men of Japan on my bad days? Well, last night I found out that I they give me the burning rage/raging boner feeling in real life.
Because there he was, this little stick of a man with his dyed hair and pale complexion (which was bad can I just say, because he was covering up his pimples, I could tell with my blatant non-staring) with his pretty girlfriend (who looked like they were made from the same mold, all done up and thin, with dyed curls and dark eyeshadow) and I absolutely could not decide whether I wanted to jump the next table and molest him or smash his face into said table.
This event is giving me a mid-life crisis, no joke swear to God. Now, I don't know whether I hate pretty men or pretty women or the sheer gender confusion they all inspire in me. Maybe I hate that he was pretty and straight? Because I have no problem with the pretty and flaming. I know where I stand with that part of the demographic.
You know what. I'll get back to you guys when I've restructured my slowly crumbling world order.
I need some chocolate.
+
Finally, some random thoughts that I just want to spew out at the general consciousness:
001. I am not moving away from LJ for Tumblr, that much I'm sure of. The mere concepts of tumblarity and reblogging scrape at the bones of my soul like a rusted chainsaw and that really shiny layout doesn't help a bit. But the main reason is really because there is no content there that I'd like to follow, and I feel like my immature, self-important, verbose whining is better suited on the domain known as Livejournal (how bloody awful is that name, seriously. It's not even witty or cool to read or listen to) than on Tumblr.
002. Have any of you bitches tried Dove's Go Fresh deodorant? I started using it last week because it's the only deodorant available at my aunt's house and it smells viciously delicious. So vicious that whenever I smell myself, I want to bite my armpits off if I could reach them. I kid you not.
He could have left me there you know, and I'd have understood, but he didn't and though doing the opposite wouldn't have made him a bastard, the fact that he stayed makes him a Real Good Guy in my book.
Aww Bils, I'd hug you if I could right now.
And speaking of men, there is this guy (he will only be identified in this post with the pointedly ambiguous italics) who put both his hands on my waist to move me from the path of a busy waitress at the birthday party we went to yesterday. Now, I'm not saying there's anything explicitly wrong with that, but it's that kind of thing that makes me straighten like a cold metal ruler got shoved down my shirt, because that is my waist and there could have been 10 different ways he could have called my attention to the fact that I was in a sort of precarious situation, and what he did doesn't qualify. It was like that one time Lester was hiking his hand up my thigh, and I didn't tell him off because he was gay and I can't tell people off for shit.
My point is though, that one day if anybody tries to pull another stunt like that, somebody's balls are going to get yanked off, friend or no friend. As a general rule (for me), I feel like maybe you should only touch your female friends' in places you'd touch on your guy friends, and vice versa. I mean, would you move your guy friend out of the way of danger by his waist? I don't think so, champ. It's weird, distantly creepy, and ohmygod I have the perfect word, inappropriate. I think that the only time this kind of thing is okay is if we had some sort of special friendship that allows for this sort of thing, and we don't. Bloody hell, I barely speak to this guy anymore, much less allow physical contact.
And oh my lord, I have another obnoxiously long spiel about another guy that we happened to pass by that night.
So there we were, at Bed Room at around 10pm, and in the table next to us is a guy straight out of a fucking Jpop album. And you know how I have this weird obsession with the she-men of Japan on my bad days? Well, last night I found out that I they give me the burning rage/raging boner feeling in real life.
Because there he was, this little stick of a man with his dyed hair and pale complexion (which was bad can I just say, because he was covering up his pimples, I could tell with my blatant non-staring) with his pretty girlfriend (who looked like they were made from the same mold, all done up and thin, with dyed curls and dark eyeshadow) and I absolutely could not decide whether I wanted to jump the next table and molest him or smash his face into said table.
This event is giving me a mid-life crisis, no joke swear to God. Now, I don't know whether I hate pretty men or pretty women or the sheer gender confusion they all inspire in me. Maybe I hate that he was pretty and straight? Because I have no problem with the pretty and flaming. I know where I stand with that part of the demographic.
You know what. I'll get back to you guys when I've restructured my slowly crumbling world order.
I need some chocolate.
+
Finally, some random thoughts that I just want to spew out at the general consciousness:
001. I am not moving away from LJ for Tumblr, that much I'm sure of. The mere concepts of tumblarity and reblogging scrape at the bones of my soul like a rusted chainsaw and that really shiny layout doesn't help a bit. But the main reason is really because there is no content there that I'd like to follow, and I feel like my immature, self-important, verbose whining is better suited on the domain known as Livejournal (how bloody awful is that name, seriously. It's not even witty or cool to read or listen to) than on Tumblr.
002. Have any of you bitches tried Dove's Go Fresh deodorant? I started using it last week because it's the only deodorant available at my aunt's house and it smells viciously delicious. So vicious that whenever I smell myself, I want to bite my armpits off if I could reach them. I kid you not.