Living Like a Rockstar in Salem, Oregon.
Bits and pieces of Saturday night are coming back to me. Little clues like bruises, scrapes, and a muchas flavored burp have clued me in to two things. One, I had fun. Two, I should never drink that much again. I didn't get sick, which is in a way a very positive thing, but I think I was still drunk in the morning... and afternoon.
Okay, backing up...
So, Friday night, Lia, Noelle and I primped and dressed up for Kendra's Soiree de Glam. We spent hours and looked fabulous - I even had cleavage! We pre-funked at Noelle's and headed to Kendra's on foot, all the while wishing someone had invented heels that don't cause blisters. We made it and found lots of glam and a decent and growing crowd of people. We boozed, we mingled, we danced, and all we got in the end were blisters. In theory, the party was wonderful and I had a lot of fun, the problem was, certain goals were set and definitely not met. I still wasn't over a certain someone, who happened to be there, and I was trying to develop feelings or at least lust for someone else at the party so that I could drown my sorrows in sloppy makeouts. No sloppy makeouts. Lia, Noelle, and I went to Muchas. Mostly it is chocolate that cures all ailments for women, but we had to settle for greasy mexican. We liked it. Saw Morteza there and then we eventually walked back to campus. It just lacked something that would have made it an amazing evening, that meant we'd have to try again.
Lia spent the night and we went to brunch at DG in the morning. After brunch we changed and went to Woodburn to do a little outlet shopping. We spent a bunch of time in a few stores, including Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein. When it comes down to it, there were a few notable things:
Lia left Ralph Lauren with 4 bags worth of clothing, mostly gifts for friends.
We were shopping for underwear for Morteza. I know, of course, that women's underwear come in many fits and fabrics, but men's underwear can be at least as complicated to shop for, maybe worse (since I am not a man). There were at least 5 or 6 fits to choose from and several fabrics and colors - we wanted perfection. We spent the first ten minutes debating a size. We decided on medium. Then we searched for boxer briefs. We would find something seemingly perfect, but then there would be a flaw. Like mesh. Prettiest blue ever... but mesh. Ruth will have a mental image of Morteza in mesh until her death. She was properly horrified. Anyway, after at least 15 minutes, we finally found a pair that looked like they'd be perfect. Success.
After Calvin Klein, we were done. We got back to my car and drove back to Salem, ordered pizza from Garlic Jim's, and had some relaxation time. Okay, my disappointment with the Garlic Jim's experience was not that the pizza was not up to my standards, it was that the pizza delivery guy waited in his fucking car and made me get out in the rain to get the motherfucking thing. Aren't they supposed to, uh, deliver it? He could have at least come to the door of the apartment building. I wanted to remove that tip, but that would have been rude... kind of like he was for not bringing me the pizza. Whatev. After dinner, which was quite tasty, Lia and I went in search of a giant birthday card, we found one, and all was well.
Primping. I was having a body image disaster and when Lia showed up I was still in the process of picking out clothing and had no makeup on. I finally decided on something and we grabbed a bottle of the wine and headed up to Emily's. We didn't stay long, it was pretty chill but we had to get to Morteza's party. We ended up walking over there with Markus and Adriana, and when I say with, I mean... 30 feet ahead of. Weird. I didn't really end up talking to him all that night. I think Adriana thinks I'm a walking shitshow and he was probably surprised by me tonight. Okay, I realized at some point that day that it never could have worked with Markus because I was always too worried about appearances. Whenever I was around him I was stiff, mature, subdued, etc. I never wanted to do anything that would ruin some appearance I had. I recall that I would do things occasionally that were edgy, and I would look for his reaction. When I kissed Tim, he was in the room, I knew he saw, and I was both horrified to have done it and hoping that it would generate some jealousy or something. He noticed. At Kendra's I was flirting with Joaquin, and I knew he noticed... I wanted him to feel a twinge of envy again, I wanted him to want to be in Joaquin's place. Anyway, we made it to the party and there weren't that many people there yet, but it picked up quickly. Lia and I drank lots of wine, kind of making up for a certain situation regarding a certain guy being into a certain different girl - Lia was not thrilled - I just kept pace. We had a lot of fun though, when "Sexy Back" came on in the basement, we were there and dancing, a lot of other people danced too and it was fun. Trying to keep up with Lia in the drinking and in the dancing left me with two things eventually, a hangover and some slightly sore legs. In any case, we danced, we drank, we met up with Emily and danced and drank more. I was having a wonderful time talking to people, dancing, being a walking, talking, living, breathing shitshow. I'd go further into this whole thing, but I don't remember the whole night. After a point it is bits and pieces, like a collage, wine, beer, a swig of HRD, faces, conversations, chaos. That brings us back to the top. In a very drunken state I walked to Muchas and back to campus, at some point falling and bruising my left knee. I don't remember any of that, but as I think about the night or talk to people, I start to remember more and more.
And scene.
Sunday morning. I wake up at 9:40, still drunk, dehydrated, and dazed. I get some water and change from the clothing I had worn the night before to pajamas. I got hungry and made some macaroni and cheese. At no point did I turn on the lights. I felt borderline nauseous for a while but once that subsided, I ended up meeting Noelle for some studying in the Bistro. Ran into Clovis there and we exchanged greetings, but it wasn't too warm on either end, so I wasn't sure of what had happened. There was a facebook picture of us together. Noelle and I settled on a couch and got comfortable. That's actually when I noticed the scrapes and bruises, not to mention the dirt, all over my left leg. I grew pretty self conscious and I was ready to just leave. I stopped worrying so much when Joaquin came in and greeted us with pats on the head - at least one person there doesn't hate me. I must not have done anything too stupid. A few minutes later, during a conversation with someone else, he consulted me about a timeline for the night - forcing me to admit that I didn't remember a thing. When I asked, he told me that he didn't recall me doing anything stupid. After reading an article, Noelle and I headed in our separate directions, I went to DG for a while and she went home. I eventually went home too, and I haven't done anything productive today. I have caught another virus and at some random moment my sinuses filled up and I grew lightheaded. I've been in and out of naps all evening. I missed Desperate Housewives AND Glee dance practice.
Back to an earlier tangent: I've always been worried about appearances. It isn't surprising, since our society is so image oriented. I am having an image crisis right now, and it is this: "I look fat." vs. "I am fat." I've been putting on weight since getting back to the states - possibly something to do with the continued drinking and partying and the lesser amount of walking and dancing. Oh, and stress. So, I've been putting on my clothes, the same clothes mostly, and I look in the mirror and I think, "God, I look fat" and suddenly it hit me, it isn't an appearance thing, it is an actual tangible thing, I can feel it, FAT. I was always pretty confident in my appearance, and that is all well and fine, I had never been this heavy before... now that I am outside of my comfort zone for fattiness, I don't have that confidence anymore. I also haven't even kissed someone in ages, which is just the icing on the cake - I feel am fat and undesirable. This is not me asking for everyone to say, "You aren't fat" and "You are beautiful" because I know that any of my friends reading this would say that, this is about me analyzing my body image crisis. It's what I do.
Another tangent: I got over Markus aka CGLA yesterday, not in the sense that I've forgotten him, but in the sense that I realized it was unhealthy. There was the thing about me behaving differently around him and the thing about him having a girlfriend and the thing about being miserable about our interactions. I am decidedly incompatible with German men - it is true... I've never had good luck with them. I do love the language and culture, but there is no denying there are differences in personalities and styles of interactions. I am questioning now if me liking him was about liking him or about wanting to feel like I was compatible with German culture... Obviously, I did/do like him, but I think it may have started not because of something substantial but for his sheer German-ness. I tried to behave like I was German and it didn't suit me. I need to accept that I am in some ways very American and you know what? That is okay. I think that we have some wonderful qualities and I am happy to have them. Anyway, last night, while a complete shitshow, was the first night we were at the same party during which I did not turn off the American. I talked a lot, danced slutty, and acted as though everyone was my best friend. I don't know if he noticed or cared, but for once, it didn't matter. I'm not proud of how drunk I was last night, but I think it was all part of the process.
Final tangent. Friends and just friends. I suck at being friends with guys. Invariably, one person has romantic feelings or lust for the other at some point. Either I would jump on the opportunity to "hit that" (scooping action, please, J-Go) or they would. I've always been this way too, back to the dawn of time, for as long as this has been a primary focus of life, there have been awkward crushes and such. I have gotten so used to it that I can be friends with guys with whom I am secretly in love/lust without detection or problems. The other situation, on the other hand, is harder on me. I don't think it is helped by my flirty nature, especially when alcohol comes into the picture... I felt last night as though some of my friends, whom I'd like to keep as just friends, were inching toward making a move. My response to such things is always distance and fast. The problem with that is that it is awkward, so with that in mind, it ends up being less distance over a longer span of time, or too subtle. I just hope that no feelings were hurt and that no false impressions were given.
Quote of the day: If you cut me, I would bleed merlot.
Ende.
Okay, backing up...
So, Friday night, Lia, Noelle and I primped and dressed up for Kendra's Soiree de Glam. We spent hours and looked fabulous - I even had cleavage! We pre-funked at Noelle's and headed to Kendra's on foot, all the while wishing someone had invented heels that don't cause blisters. We made it and found lots of glam and a decent and growing crowd of people. We boozed, we mingled, we danced, and all we got in the end were blisters. In theory, the party was wonderful and I had a lot of fun, the problem was, certain goals were set and definitely not met. I still wasn't over a certain someone, who happened to be there, and I was trying to develop feelings or at least lust for someone else at the party so that I could drown my sorrows in sloppy makeouts. No sloppy makeouts. Lia, Noelle, and I went to Muchas. Mostly it is chocolate that cures all ailments for women, but we had to settle for greasy mexican. We liked it. Saw Morteza there and then we eventually walked back to campus. It just lacked something that would have made it an amazing evening, that meant we'd have to try again.
Lia spent the night and we went to brunch at DG in the morning. After brunch we changed and went to Woodburn to do a little outlet shopping. We spent a bunch of time in a few stores, including Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein. When it comes down to it, there were a few notable things:
Lia left Ralph Lauren with 4 bags worth of clothing, mostly gifts for friends.
We were shopping for underwear for Morteza. I know, of course, that women's underwear come in many fits and fabrics, but men's underwear can be at least as complicated to shop for, maybe worse (since I am not a man). There were at least 5 or 6 fits to choose from and several fabrics and colors - we wanted perfection. We spent the first ten minutes debating a size. We decided on medium. Then we searched for boxer briefs. We would find something seemingly perfect, but then there would be a flaw. Like mesh. Prettiest blue ever... but mesh. Ruth will have a mental image of Morteza in mesh until her death. She was properly horrified. Anyway, after at least 15 minutes, we finally found a pair that looked like they'd be perfect. Success.
After Calvin Klein, we were done. We got back to my car and drove back to Salem, ordered pizza from Garlic Jim's, and had some relaxation time. Okay, my disappointment with the Garlic Jim's experience was not that the pizza was not up to my standards, it was that the pizza delivery guy waited in his fucking car and made me get out in the rain to get the motherfucking thing. Aren't they supposed to, uh, deliver it? He could have at least come to the door of the apartment building. I wanted to remove that tip, but that would have been rude... kind of like he was for not bringing me the pizza. Whatev. After dinner, which was quite tasty, Lia and I went in search of a giant birthday card, we found one, and all was well.
Primping. I was having a body image disaster and when Lia showed up I was still in the process of picking out clothing and had no makeup on. I finally decided on something and we grabbed a bottle of the wine and headed up to Emily's. We didn't stay long, it was pretty chill but we had to get to Morteza's party. We ended up walking over there with Markus and Adriana, and when I say with, I mean... 30 feet ahead of. Weird. I didn't really end up talking to him all that night. I think Adriana thinks I'm a walking shitshow and he was probably surprised by me tonight. Okay, I realized at some point that day that it never could have worked with Markus because I was always too worried about appearances. Whenever I was around him I was stiff, mature, subdued, etc. I never wanted to do anything that would ruin some appearance I had. I recall that I would do things occasionally that were edgy, and I would look for his reaction. When I kissed Tim, he was in the room, I knew he saw, and I was both horrified to have done it and hoping that it would generate some jealousy or something. He noticed. At Kendra's I was flirting with Joaquin, and I knew he noticed... I wanted him to feel a twinge of envy again, I wanted him to want to be in Joaquin's place. Anyway, we made it to the party and there weren't that many people there yet, but it picked up quickly. Lia and I drank lots of wine, kind of making up for a certain situation regarding a certain guy being into a certain different girl - Lia was not thrilled - I just kept pace. We had a lot of fun though, when "Sexy Back" came on in the basement, we were there and dancing, a lot of other people danced too and it was fun. Trying to keep up with Lia in the drinking and in the dancing left me with two things eventually, a hangover and some slightly sore legs. In any case, we danced, we drank, we met up with Emily and danced and drank more. I was having a wonderful time talking to people, dancing, being a walking, talking, living, breathing shitshow. I'd go further into this whole thing, but I don't remember the whole night. After a point it is bits and pieces, like a collage, wine, beer, a swig of HRD, faces, conversations, chaos. That brings us back to the top. In a very drunken state I walked to Muchas and back to campus, at some point falling and bruising my left knee. I don't remember any of that, but as I think about the night or talk to people, I start to remember more and more.
And scene.
Sunday morning. I wake up at 9:40, still drunk, dehydrated, and dazed. I get some water and change from the clothing I had worn the night before to pajamas. I got hungry and made some macaroni and cheese. At no point did I turn on the lights. I felt borderline nauseous for a while but once that subsided, I ended up meeting Noelle for some studying in the Bistro. Ran into Clovis there and we exchanged greetings, but it wasn't too warm on either end, so I wasn't sure of what had happened. There was a facebook picture of us together. Noelle and I settled on a couch and got comfortable. That's actually when I noticed the scrapes and bruises, not to mention the dirt, all over my left leg. I grew pretty self conscious and I was ready to just leave. I stopped worrying so much when Joaquin came in and greeted us with pats on the head - at least one person there doesn't hate me. I must not have done anything too stupid. A few minutes later, during a conversation with someone else, he consulted me about a timeline for the night - forcing me to admit that I didn't remember a thing. When I asked, he told me that he didn't recall me doing anything stupid. After reading an article, Noelle and I headed in our separate directions, I went to DG for a while and she went home. I eventually went home too, and I haven't done anything productive today. I have caught another virus and at some random moment my sinuses filled up and I grew lightheaded. I've been in and out of naps all evening. I missed Desperate Housewives AND Glee dance practice.
Back to an earlier tangent: I've always been worried about appearances. It isn't surprising, since our society is so image oriented. I am having an image crisis right now, and it is this: "I look fat." vs. "I am fat." I've been putting on weight since getting back to the states - possibly something to do with the continued drinking and partying and the lesser amount of walking and dancing. Oh, and stress. So, I've been putting on my clothes, the same clothes mostly, and I look in the mirror and I think, "God, I look fat" and suddenly it hit me, it isn't an appearance thing, it is an actual tangible thing, I can feel it, FAT. I was always pretty confident in my appearance, and that is all well and fine, I had never been this heavy before... now that I am outside of my comfort zone for fattiness, I don't have that confidence anymore. I also haven't even kissed someone in ages, which is just the icing on the cake - I feel am fat and undesirable. This is not me asking for everyone to say, "You aren't fat" and "You are beautiful" because I know that any of my friends reading this would say that, this is about me analyzing my body image crisis. It's what I do.
Another tangent: I got over Markus aka CGLA yesterday, not in the sense that I've forgotten him, but in the sense that I realized it was unhealthy. There was the thing about me behaving differently around him and the thing about him having a girlfriend and the thing about being miserable about our interactions. I am decidedly incompatible with German men - it is true... I've never had good luck with them. I do love the language and culture, but there is no denying there are differences in personalities and styles of interactions. I am questioning now if me liking him was about liking him or about wanting to feel like I was compatible with German culture... Obviously, I did/do like him, but I think it may have started not because of something substantial but for his sheer German-ness. I tried to behave like I was German and it didn't suit me. I need to accept that I am in some ways very American and you know what? That is okay. I think that we have some wonderful qualities and I am happy to have them. Anyway, last night, while a complete shitshow, was the first night we were at the same party during which I did not turn off the American. I talked a lot, danced slutty, and acted as though everyone was my best friend. I don't know if he noticed or cared, but for once, it didn't matter. I'm not proud of how drunk I was last night, but I think it was all part of the process.
Final tangent. Friends and just friends. I suck at being friends with guys. Invariably, one person has romantic feelings or lust for the other at some point. Either I would jump on the opportunity to "hit that" (scooping action, please, J-Go) or they would. I've always been this way too, back to the dawn of time, for as long as this has been a primary focus of life, there have been awkward crushes and such. I have gotten so used to it that I can be friends with guys with whom I am secretly in love/lust without detection or problems. The other situation, on the other hand, is harder on me. I don't think it is helped by my flirty nature, especially when alcohol comes into the picture... I felt last night as though some of my friends, whom I'd like to keep as just friends, were inching toward making a move. My response to such things is always distance and fast. The problem with that is that it is awkward, so with that in mind, it ends up being less distance over a longer span of time, or too subtle. I just hope that no feelings were hurt and that no false impressions were given.
Quote of the day: If you cut me, I would bleed merlot.
Ende.