The brother who wanted to marry his sister

An old woman and an old man had two daughters and two sons.
One daughter was ugly, and the other was beautiful.
The younger brother decided to marry the beautiful one.
But she did not want to.
She cried and did not want to.
She washed her silk cloths and went to the water and rinsed them.
She rinsed and cried. It was cold.
Her hands and feet were freezing.
She came home and knocked on the door, but it was locked.
She knocked on her mother’s window, and her mother answered:
I’ll let you in if you will call me mother-in-law.
She knocked on her father’s window, and he answered:
I’ll let you in if you will call me father-in-law.
She knocked on her older brother’s window, and he answered:
I’ll let you in if you will call me brother-in-law.
She knocked on her sister’s window, and she answered:
I’ll let you in if you will call me sister-in-law.
She knocked on her younger brother’s window, and he let her in.
He hugged her and kissed her, and she said:
Let the earth open up and swallow me!
And the earth opened up and she escaped.

Entering boyfriendland without a visa

So, it’s not just people I know who have jumped ship. It’s people that I meet too i.e. I meet a girl who I think is pretty cool, we hang out, go for coffee and then… I wait for the boyfriend bomb.
“Oh, totally, my boyfriend said that too and…”
“Sorry, my boyfriend is calling. Just a sec.”
“Nope, I’m good. My boyfriend is picking me up.”
It feels kind of surreal. That these girls are all in a relationship. They have this one person in their life who they can envision a future with. It’s odd.
Well, maybe not to you but to me, yes. Remember, I’m the girl who avoids all contact with men interested in me? The one who technically isn’t allowed to date? The one who uses that and her old high school crush as excuses to deceive herself into thinking she doesn’t need a man? The one who keeps ignoring the fact that she hasn’t been on a date… well… ever actually. Now the pressure is becoming extremely noticable and this is why:
1. Once I turned 20, most of my friends gave up the single life
2. My two ex-best friends who were even more unlikely to be in relationships than me (one had high standards and the other one was just awkward) found boyfriends
3. My high school crush gave up the bachelor life for an evil skinny whore… and I realized that I needed to stop saving myself for him
4. Everyone I meet has a boyfriend
5. It would be easier to have a boyfriend
The last one is the biggest one and that’s sad because I always preach to my friends that they don’t need men to feel complete. They think I’m brave but it’s actually because I can’t find a guy. I am such a hypocrite.
It’s not that I want them to be perpetually lonely. It’s just that I’m sick of feeling like I’m not invited to a club that everyone is the president of. Hell, even if they were single, it wouldn’t matter. My single friends are always in man-mode too. When we’re hanging out, they’re texting some guy they met at a club and I’m texting my mom.
I want that, dammit. I want to be texted. I want to be able to name someone when my friends ask me about my love life. I want to be able to look up something someone said in He’s Just Not That Into You.
I just can’t understand why I don’t have it.
The thing is, I’m not a monster. I get attention from the opposite sex but it doesn’t come from the right guys and it’s not the right type of attention.
I am overweight but I’m not ugly. I’m pretty funny, nice, generous, happy (is it bad that I can say that about myself?) so where is the missing link? What comes in between me and men? My own insecurities, a lack of single men, my weight, our shallow society? What is it?
What worries me more is this… what if I just want a boyfriend to fit in and maybe a cuddle from time to time?
It sucks because this is probably true.

Changes

I liked you better when you were a skinny kid
trying to prove that you were nonchalant
instead of a perma-tanned juiced-up jacked-up asshole
who wouldn’t give me the time of day

What makes me sad are the conversations that we’ll never have

The school dilemma… and how my screwed up personality fits into it

Life is short.
That’s what I keep being reminded of these days. It’s gone on ever since I ditched one of my best friends when I realized that my mental picture of her wasn’t what I wanted it to be and I couldn’t keep making excuses for why she is such a bad friend.
Whenever I go through a change like that, I cling to my family. And every few hours or so, I tell myself to be good to them because they’re going to die soon and I’ll never see them again (note: atheistic agnostic here). These moments we share are only going to go on for so long until they expire. Until they expire or until this state we are in expires.
For the past ten years, it has just been my parents, my sister and me living in a house together. With my impending (but not yet confirmed) move to university, this time seems short. I only have sixty days left here. Then I’ll go east for about two months. When I come back, I’ll have to move out because the campus is three hours away. May not seem like much but it would be a six hour commute.
The ultimate decision is between that school and one that is only a half hour away. I could live at home if I chose to go there. The university that is further is a little more prestigious but not by much. And it would cost more… a truckload more.
My mother had told me that the decision is up to me. But now as we come closer to crackdown time, she’s subtly urging me to go with the closer school. She even once told me that she didn’t want me to move away. Truth is, I’m not sure if I want to move away.
Ok, here’s some more honesty… I wanted to go to the further school because they had a Greek life and the closer one didn’t. But after visiting the campus, I realized that I love it anyway. The air of independance and a strong campus life makes it irresistable. Let’s add in your own residence and the fact that the school is absolutely gorgeous… well, it makes a good fresh start for me. And I think it’s what I’ve been looking for.
I’m sick of the status quo. I’m sick of waiting for my friends to realize my worth. I’m sick of feeling like I’m always being judged. I’m sick of searching for some guy to understand what I’m all about. I’m sick of being this tailored, superficial idiot that I turned myself into to make my high school crush like me. I’m sick of trying to fool myself into thinking I’m happy.
I need to be a new me. Someone who I want to be. Someone who listens to Billie Holiday and is cool with it. Someone who can dance without constantly adjusting her clothes. Someone who can introduce herself and not feel like she’s burdening people by telling them her name. Someone isn’t bothered if she isn’t constantly useful or helpful. Someone who likes herself. Someone who believes in herself.
I used to be her and I don’t understand when I stopped being her.
I don’t know if a new scene will help me be her again. After spending twenty grand extra, I might even just stay exactly the same as I am now. Maybe moving away is admitting defeat. What if it’s just because I don’t have the guts to reinvent myself right here. What if I’m totally weak and nothing can help me.
I don’t know, all I know is… I can’t stay like this anymore. I’m fucking killing myself.

To the people who can’t have fun without popping E or snorting coke

Fuck you

I got laid

Yep, I successfully devirginized myself. How, you ask? Well, I lost 80 pounds, dyed my hair blonde, started frequenting the local seedy bar and now I’m doing to dirty every day of the week and twice on Tuesday. If you haven’t figured out this a lie, you need to leave my blog immediately and find yourself a bottle of tylenols and some brandy. I’m still a virgin.
Wipe that sad look off your face. I know the only reason you read this thing because you’re waiting for the day.
Truth is, I have nothing going on in my life other than being a workaholic and visiting the fortune-telling gypies that wandered into town (okay, they’re not technically gypsies but they should be- “psychics” doesn’t do it for me, at least give me some excitement for my 30 bucks). Especially since I don’t believe in fortune-tellers. Or gypsies (don’t contradict me).
I’m looking over my last few posts and they all seem angry. I don’t know why.
I read this bumper sticker that said “my greatest fear is that it isn’t PMS but that this is my personality”
I laughed. And then thought about it.
You know it’s bad when you have to think about it.

Fucking My Comments Page

It only shows me like half a dozen of my last comments.
If you know me, you know that I’m a comment dumpster- I dump out comments like a mother.
So right, I read a few comments, scroll down and then… there’s nothing. Now what am I supposed to do? Actually click every blog I’ve ever commented on and check to see if anyone has replied? Fuck that shit. I’d rather get wasted.
If I’ve left you a comment and you think up of an amazingly witty reply to stick on there. I’m sorry.
I know you check it daily and wonder why the fuck I’m not dazzled by your brilliant wit.
Well, I probably would be if I ever read it. But I haven’t. Because Dashboard is an asshole.

The dead blog

You know what I’m talking about…

The authors have deleted this blog.
The content is no longer available.

Like wtf. Come back. Or at least come back and tell me where the hell it all went wrong!
The dead count on my links is 2. And these two are blogs that I liked… a lot.
Why does life suck so much? I feel like I should hold a vigil or something.