I should’ve expected this week to be a comedown. I felt so behind with school. I had spent literally my whole weekend doing nothing, but maybe reading 10 pages of Great Expectations instead of the 200 or so I needed to. November was closing in: I have assignments due in November!
But I caught up. I caught up rapidly I caught up by Tuesday. I already felt myself cycling, cycling out of what was (potentially?) a manic period. People kept disappointing me with their inefficiency (every time I’m in a class where people haven’t done the readings, every time people say they can’t do things because of homework, everyone’s fucking face, full of apathy and boredom, and ugly, ugly humanity, I felt myself morphing into Hitler, where I felt so psychopathic, I could’ve killed the whole school for the sake of eugenics). I was bored, bored, bored, life had slowed down, everyone had slowed down. What do I do when everything slows down?
Start braiding men’s fates with my hair, obviously.
Two main things: that thing where I eyefuck men for attention. I eyefucked a guy in the library, J___, and we exchanged numbers. He was clearly too old for me, but, I had no exciting plans for Halloween, so he would do perfectly fine. But, then I started canvassing Craigslist.
I cancelled my plans with J___ but he still bought me coffee and gave me a ride home, and then later I met up with these two late-twenties not-super-attractive guys at a Holiday Inn. The one who I was *meant* for ended up backing down for the stout, hirsute one in a banana costume, who thought it was witty to open conversations, multiple times, with, “Do you want a banana shake?” (he did not know how his friend had found me, and rumor has it that he’s wealthy — “if you married this guy, you’d be set for life,” his friend said — not that that even mattered. I would’ve done anything with almost anyone who was willing to foot my bill for the night alone).
I don’t remember the night well. We went to a club, and there was a lot of dancing, and me pleading other girls to join us (“do you want a ton of free shots?”). Which, did not work out too well, so, me, and the banana went back, and like most drunken sexual encounters, it was super unsuccessful. He couldn’t perform, for quite a while, we tried to order pizza quite drunkenly. Admittedly, and this is my point of dignity, my main concern was pleasing myself. You can go down on me, but, no, I don’t really want to return the favour. I will totally please myself, if you can’t, etc etc. I am a super feminist whore, I promise.
Eventually the other guy came back with a girl (who was… *cringe* Well, not cringe but cringe for my eugenic-influenced mind, which is really, disgustingly snobby). She was cool because she totally wasn’t having any of this sexual shit, even with my attempts to seduce.
Oh, and at some point, between texting H______ and R_____ about how I’m “the patron saint of bad decisions”, I also decided it was a good idea to do that thing I do, that really fucking embarrassing thing. That is to say I texted A___, multiple times, and even called him (god bless, it went straight to voicemail). I don’t even want to look at what I texted him. I think I texted him one thing I don’t remember, and then “I miss you” and also “wake up wake up wake up.” Because, maybe, on a subconscious level, I put myself in bad situations because I want a boy to save me, like just around 11 months ago, when I did that with T__ (I was rereading my e-mails from last year — my god).
I told him this morning they weren’t for him (hahahaha, as if that’s believable, I fucking called him, why am I so dumb?).
Anyway, I was planning on seeing him this weekend, and telling him to chill the fuck out, and eat candy in sweats with me, while we listen to Frank Ocean and Tame Impala, and just slow down and maybe question him and have sweet cuddle time, like those two times. I mostly see A___ for those times. And for the amazing advice and free tea (how dumb is it that nearly every morning I’ve been bringing a cup of that tea he gave me to school in a travel mug???). But, goddamn, he’s going to think I’m nuts, and I think I’d go seven million shades of scarlet to see him in person. And, the funny thing is, I can tell you exactly what he’s going to do. He is going to do what I say. He’s going to ignore the texts, not even reply to me and say, “ok,” he’s not going to text me at all. And I don’t know if I care. I know I don’t like A___, I like the idea of him. I would like him if he was the guy who would read my palm and give me back massages, and ask me to stay the night, but instead he’s just the guy who talks about how he used to be able to read palms, and who asks me if I want a back massage (but won’t give it if I don’t get lotion), he’s the guy that will ask me why I’m leaving early but he won’t ask me to spend the night, I just don’t know, it’s confusing. I just want to spend a solid weekend and get super fucking tired of him and move on with my life, because I need to soon. He’s gone soon, and I can’t be hung up on an idea forever, so I need to shatter it.
But, I’m not even concerned with that. I’m concerned with me, waking up at 7, and having a shower, and walking out of the Holiday Inn, with all my shit in tact (even these $1 skull earrings I had been wearing), even checking one of the guys’ wallets for extra cash (how low. I don’t know if I would’ve taken it if it was there, but I am happy about the extra $20 I scored for cab money), standing in elevators with some Chinese tourists/businessmen at 8 am, getting on LTC, and looking normal. Completely unchanged. No one could tell what I was doing last night. There is no proof (unless I have some yet-to-be-discovered slag tags). Here I am, A______ E______, student council member, 90+ average, girl who leads class discussions ranting about feminism, sweet and avid volunteer, good friend who spends her Friday nights studying at school with her Chinese exchange friend, girl who gives up her bus seat for people with children, and happily talks with anyone and everyone in her classes, even overweight obese people, even people with disabilities, even people who are too short for my world of perfection, too unattractive, and this never mattered, and I don’t know why it does now. I don’t know why this sickness is slipping into my brain. They’re all false dichotomies.
And I stand in line at Timmie’s and look at all these tired, worn out faces, these boring ugly faces, and I feel so bored. I feel like shooting myself. I feel like shooting everyone. To paraphrase JSF, I feel like I live my life with the volume turned all the way up (eugh, that’s such an ugly double entendre, you know, now that being “turned up” is synonymous with wasted). I feel like everyone lives their lives with the volume turned all the way down, and they’re more than satisfied, they’re exhausted that’s too much, and just enough, going to college, studying to be a nurse, a mortician, a pharmacist, and policeperson, a whatever, and settling for that average life, meeting some other average person and having an average family and being average average average, and I’d rather kick ass at school, and join the elitist of the elite, even if it’s going to mean dumb boys throwing money at me and putting their body in me and doing lines off my body, because it’s different. It’s different. But, when will it be enough?
All the same it’s mind numbing. I’m sitting on the bus to school, and thinking, “I should be crying.” I think like S_____, I think, I should make myself cry, I just did all this really abnormal, almost dehumanizing shit, I just pretty much raped myself, didn’t it? And I almost do start crying, just because I feel like I have to. But I don’t want to. I might this afternoon in my councilor’s office — but that’s different, that’s a performance, it’s for someone. But, at the end of the day, I’m going to forget about this. I’m not Suddenly Scarred, and isn’t that sad? Is something wrong with me?
I wanted to tie all this up with some Great Expectations allusion, and appearances vs reality, and how i’m already a perfect politician but I can’t really be bothered.
grow up, don’t grow down. grow out.