Wednesday, April 14, 2010


Even reading the word gives you a bad feeling, doesn't it? Rejection. Rejection from men, which stems from rejection from my father and so on. I'm not in denial. I am well aware of my mental block issues. I am also aware of reality, and reality is that men get more shallow with every passing year. Blame it on TV, movies, magazines, whathaveyou, but it's a truth we cannot avoid anymore than we can avoid those pesky grey hairs. Men want athletic women, younger women with long hair, big firm tits (no one seems to have informed them that having both usually means they were bought), a nice ass, long legs, and can provide the best sex of their lives. Seriously, read any online dating profile. They don't even try to hide it.

Which makes life a bit difficult for women such as myself. I'm 32. My hair is brown, medium length, greys creeping in. I am not athletic. I weigh 175 pounds on a good day, the heaviest I've ever been, and I'm only 5'0". My tits are ok. Used to be quite perky but have given a little weight to time. My ass is flat and cratered. My legs...well, you read how tall I am. And the sad part is that even with all of this, I probably could provide good sex to someone if they were only patient enough to get through the crap. I like to be good at things. I give damn good head. But I have yet to find someone who is attracted to me long enough to teach me, to give it a chance. On an episode of Friends, Phoebe was ashamed because she was 30 (ahem, Lisa Kudrow, I call bullshit) and had never been in a long-term relationship.

I'm 32. My longest was 3 months. And even then, he didn't live here. In the end, he admitted he wasn't attracted to me anymore. That was 2-3 years ago (I'm horrible with dates), and I'm still not over it. In fact, just two nights ago a guy was in my bed. He also told me he's not attracted to me ("you're just not my type").

Those are just two, though. Two in a lifetime of endless rejection. It takes its toll. One person can only be told they aren't worth it so many times before they start to believe it. And I do believe it. Which just circles back and projects itself onto anyone I meet. I expect the rejection ahead of time. So I get it.

Catch 22.

-- Post From My iPhone


I wouldn't call myself the smartest person in the world. Or even the block. Maybe my building, but that's pushing it. Still, I'm smart enough to know when I've held it in for too long. When those thoughts bubble in you to the point of explosion, either in the form of an AK-47 and a rooftop, or a blog. I have chosen the latter. Welcome, reader.

-- Post From My iPhone