A Lot of Nothing
September-
Three episodes in, I still feel like I have not depicted Robert in the appropriate light. Probably because I mentioned he sucked in bed, but that was factual and not his fault entirely. Learning how to read people takes experience.
I feel like the fact that I'm still hung-up on expressing this non-relationship and trying to determine why Bastien pulled away indicates I'm not too different from him and his obsession with his month long girl.
I'm suddenly very sleepy. This is not unexpected. I probably slept an hour and a half. A lot of things are fractured lately. Specifically by half.
October-
Today I am sitting contemplating what is sure to be a terrible meeting with what is sure to be a terrible person. Group projects are a nightmare. And, having worked in several offices, I feel uniquely a nightmare. There's people to intervene in an office. There's people to delegate. Not everyone is meant to be a leader, and not everyone knows how- it's bizarre that it's so highly valued here. You're not all going to be 16-year-old girls who have well researched talking points on climate change, some of you are destined to be the Fox News pundits denying that shit exists.
I am serving fish-legged, runner, school marm, by which I mean OOTD is my favorite mermaid leggings, a t-shirt I got from the half-marathon I was too sick to run, and my glasses. I spent last weekend without them and it was torture. I feel I should be able to actually see my accuser when they're in front of me- not just a blurry approximation. That way I know who to avoid in the halls, if I make it any further...
Most annoyingly, I had to put on make-up. This is a rare occasion, mostly because I'm lazy. It's reserved almost exclusively for interviews and dates, which are very much like interviews. I have to spend time pretending I know what the guy is interested in and that I want to be on the "team", instead of asking about all the articles about his illegal dumping of waste is about...
But men do not like women who are not attractive. They don't particularly want to hear from them. So I'm definitely going to be accused of being bitchy and unprofessional. Even though I use a lot of "I feel" and say "I want to find a way to effectively communicate with you," you can't really win with some guys. This is one of those guys. And if I'm not even wearing make-up he's definitely going to latch onto that in his shitty little brain that hasn't been able to bother to understand the prompt, but so desperately needs to lead he's inclined to shut down my concerns.
I guess I'm lucky I'm not pretty enough to not be taken seriously.
I'm so over men.
As a whole.
I was watching the new Nikki Glaser Netflix special last night, and that was the only thing that I didn't really like. It was pretty subversive...but she also did that thing where she was like "ugh, I never wanted to be like those girls" and I know it's probably part of the point. But dudes are straight miserable creatures and I don't mind when female comedians bitch. Or when queer comedians bitch. Or when male comedians bitch. They know what they are. They know how garbage their kind can be. It would be incredible if men were not aware. We even saw with the #MeToo movement that most of the dudes in the circles of influence fucking know. They know. So, it's cathartic to get to laugh about a completely solvable problem.
What I'm getting at is that I recently had a threesome with two dudes.
It went ok.
Not fantastic. One of the guys was just, upsettingly vocal. Like, I get it, you watch porn! You all watch porn, we all know- but dear gawd read the room. If no one else is being as loud as you are, maybe chill? This is a hard thing to communicate in the middle of a bunch of dicks though.
I never know how to take the fact that I live a fairly mundanely interesting life. Like- oh? You had a threesome? How quaint. I coded for a paper studying mice looking at things.
I'm currently seeing a neurograd. I'm obsessed. I'm incredibly fascinated. He's very funny. Although, sometimes there are misses, but not every joke lands for anyone.
I did realize last night, though, as I was shirking my own responsibilities to education, that I am just as impressed by people who are able to make really fancy latte art as I am by a neuroscientist. I'm going to bring this up on my date. See how it lands.
Factually, I am too busy to be dating, so I have been a lot chiller about this than the others. The frantic desire for distraction is no longer sustainable because I don't know what I'm going to do to myself if I am unable to graduate this summer. I literally don't know.
I know.
It's not likely to be good.
I mean, maybe I could just get a job without a degree and then live a regular life for a year or two, pay down some shit and move and forget about ever having this accomplishment? It's actually a lot less common than it's made to seem. Only about 40% of people my age have one. And the completion rate is actually not great, either. So- it wouldn't necessarily be a shame. I could perhaps try to really focus on writing. Live the dream that I explained to Bastien I felt was not within reach. Sometimes people just grind to it, you know?
And I definitely have the credits for several associates degrees...but I want these degrees. I'm so close to two bachelors degrees. I love research and writing. I am sure I would be fine in law school. Statistics isn't even that terribly uninteresting...and the guy I am seeing likes explaining things.
I'm not sure I want him to know exactly how little I truly understand, though.
He seems genuinely nice. And I would like to chill with genuinely nice for a while. Even if that genuinely nice is also poor.
After all, I fucked mean and poor for 8 years.
Anyway- none of this is good or usable. I'm just trying to avoid statistics and this fucking meeting. And weighing my life choices. So, it's a fairly normal day. I'm a fairly average girl.
One of my friends recently joked that she was just relieved that after being hit in the face by a dolly at work she was crying from a physical injury and not stress. That's so familiar. It's like a shared wish that every poor millennial sends into the universe when they wake up. The panic attacks, the suicidal idealization, the self-loathing. It's like a graduation gift, but you don't really have to complete anything to get it. If there's any reason I want to produce television it's so we can get fewer TV shows about entitled millennials. Dear gawd. Just make it stop. All of it. This day.
Three episodes in, I still feel like I have not depicted Robert in the appropriate light. Probably because I mentioned he sucked in bed, but that was factual and not his fault entirely. Learning how to read people takes experience.
I feel like the fact that I'm still hung-up on expressing this non-relationship and trying to determine why Bastien pulled away indicates I'm not too different from him and his obsession with his month long girl.
I'm suddenly very sleepy. This is not unexpected. I probably slept an hour and a half. A lot of things are fractured lately. Specifically by half.
October-
Today I am sitting contemplating what is sure to be a terrible meeting with what is sure to be a terrible person. Group projects are a nightmare. And, having worked in several offices, I feel uniquely a nightmare. There's people to intervene in an office. There's people to delegate. Not everyone is meant to be a leader, and not everyone knows how- it's bizarre that it's so highly valued here. You're not all going to be 16-year-old girls who have well researched talking points on climate change, some of you are destined to be the Fox News pundits denying that shit exists.
I am serving fish-legged, runner, school marm, by which I mean OOTD is my favorite mermaid leggings, a t-shirt I got from the half-marathon I was too sick to run, and my glasses. I spent last weekend without them and it was torture. I feel I should be able to actually see my accuser when they're in front of me- not just a blurry approximation. That way I know who to avoid in the halls, if I make it any further...
Most annoyingly, I had to put on make-up. This is a rare occasion, mostly because I'm lazy. It's reserved almost exclusively for interviews and dates, which are very much like interviews. I have to spend time pretending I know what the guy is interested in and that I want to be on the "team", instead of asking about all the articles about his illegal dumping of waste is about...
But men do not like women who are not attractive. They don't particularly want to hear from them. So I'm definitely going to be accused of being bitchy and unprofessional. Even though I use a lot of "I feel" and say "I want to find a way to effectively communicate with you," you can't really win with some guys. This is one of those guys. And if I'm not even wearing make-up he's definitely going to latch onto that in his shitty little brain that hasn't been able to bother to understand the prompt, but so desperately needs to lead he's inclined to shut down my concerns.
I guess I'm lucky I'm not pretty enough to not be taken seriously.
I'm so over men.
As a whole.
I was watching the new Nikki Glaser Netflix special last night, and that was the only thing that I didn't really like. It was pretty subversive...but she also did that thing where she was like "ugh, I never wanted to be like those girls" and I know it's probably part of the point. But dudes are straight miserable creatures and I don't mind when female comedians bitch. Or when queer comedians bitch. Or when male comedians bitch. They know what they are. They know how garbage their kind can be. It would be incredible if men were not aware. We even saw with the #MeToo movement that most of the dudes in the circles of influence fucking know. They know. So, it's cathartic to get to laugh about a completely solvable problem.
What I'm getting at is that I recently had a threesome with two dudes.
It went ok.
Not fantastic. One of the guys was just, upsettingly vocal. Like, I get it, you watch porn! You all watch porn, we all know- but dear gawd read the room. If no one else is being as loud as you are, maybe chill? This is a hard thing to communicate in the middle of a bunch of dicks though.
I never know how to take the fact that I live a fairly mundanely interesting life. Like- oh? You had a threesome? How quaint. I coded for a paper studying mice looking at things.
I'm currently seeing a neurograd. I'm obsessed. I'm incredibly fascinated. He's very funny. Although, sometimes there are misses, but not every joke lands for anyone.
I did realize last night, though, as I was shirking my own responsibilities to education, that I am just as impressed by people who are able to make really fancy latte art as I am by a neuroscientist. I'm going to bring this up on my date. See how it lands.
Factually, I am too busy to be dating, so I have been a lot chiller about this than the others. The frantic desire for distraction is no longer sustainable because I don't know what I'm going to do to myself if I am unable to graduate this summer. I literally don't know.
I know.
It's not likely to be good.
I mean, maybe I could just get a job without a degree and then live a regular life for a year or two, pay down some shit and move and forget about ever having this accomplishment? It's actually a lot less common than it's made to seem. Only about 40% of people my age have one. And the completion rate is actually not great, either. So- it wouldn't necessarily be a shame. I could perhaps try to really focus on writing. Live the dream that I explained to Bastien I felt was not within reach. Sometimes people just grind to it, you know?
And I definitely have the credits for several associates degrees...but I want these degrees. I'm so close to two bachelors degrees. I love research and writing. I am sure I would be fine in law school. Statistics isn't even that terribly uninteresting...and the guy I am seeing likes explaining things.
I'm not sure I want him to know exactly how little I truly understand, though.
He seems genuinely nice. And I would like to chill with genuinely nice for a while. Even if that genuinely nice is also poor.
After all, I fucked mean and poor for 8 years.
Anyway- none of this is good or usable. I'm just trying to avoid statistics and this fucking meeting. And weighing my life choices. So, it's a fairly normal day. I'm a fairly average girl.
One of my friends recently joked that she was just relieved that after being hit in the face by a dolly at work she was crying from a physical injury and not stress. That's so familiar. It's like a shared wish that every poor millennial sends into the universe when they wake up. The panic attacks, the suicidal idealization, the self-loathing. It's like a graduation gift, but you don't really have to complete anything to get it. If there's any reason I want to produce television it's so we can get fewer TV shows about entitled millennials. Dear gawd. Just make it stop. All of it. This day.
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