6 posts tagged “random rants”
About ten months ago, my mother decided that I should try internet dating. It made sense: I'm an introverted nerd, the internet is full of introverted nerds, and maybe an e-romance website would help me find an introverted nerd of my very own. This is fast becoming a new entry in my running list of advice my mother gave me that I never should have taken, because damn, people are seriously crazy.
You see, I'm not just introverted and nerdy. I'm also fairly attractive. This is a problem, because other introverted nerds see the conjunction of relative nerdiness, intelligence, and hotness and start acting creepy, which freaks my introverted self the ever-loving fuck out (in addition to making my inner radical feminist throw temper tantrums). You would not believe some of the weird-ass things people have actually said to me:
1. "Have my children." Not only has this actually happened, it's happened multiple times. Ew. Gross. While you can argue that dating is ultimately a quest to find a suitable person to combine DNA with (unless you're childfree, I guess), it's definitely not one of those things you mention on the first date, much less on an internet dating site. Seriously. What on earth would possess me to mix my awesometastic DNA with that of a freaky pervert who happens to be older than both of my parents (42 and 45)?
2. "Be my sub [or insert any other variety of recipient of freaky sexual preference]." Thanks to the internet, I have reaffirmed the fact that I am a freak magnet. I'm really not sure how or why that's happened, but I really wish it would stop. I'm not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but seriously, folks, discussions of weird sex practices shouldn't happen until at least the fifth or sixth date (or whenever you determine that there is a realistic possibility that sex will actually occur). Hardcore BDSM is not an appropriate springboard for a conversation, unless you are on a special forum for that kind of thing. Asking random strangers on the internet to dress in head-to-toe latex so your fiberglass ropes won't chafe them is not cool, daring, edgy, or sexually arousing (even if I were into that). It's creepy.
3. "Have a three-way/poly fling with me and my girlfriend/wife." This really bothers me for a couple of reasons. I think a lot of this is the direct result of me making the grievous error of honestly stating my sexual orientation (which is really unfortunate when you think about it). Once again, unsolicited sexual propositions (outside of appropriate forums) are sketchy. That said, people really need to get it through their thick heads that being queer is NOT the same thing as being polyamorous or into three-ways or other forms of group sex. To assume something like that is really obnoxious (and kind of offensive).
4. "Hi, I'm (at least) fifteen years older than you, think your profile is 'deep,' and want to date you!" I can't think of any not-sketchy motivation that someone that much older than me would have to want to date me. I'm fairly mature for my age, but I'm still twenty-two, not finished with undergrad, and think I know everything. I'm pretty sure I'd drive anyone from that age group up a tree, and yet they still insist on hitting on me. Ick. Bonus creep-out points when they're older than my parents (which isn't difficult, since my parents had me at fairly young ages).
5. "Hi, I am a hard-core Christian Republican who hates everything you stand for. Will you have sex with me?" I really love it when people with blatantly misogynist opinions hit on me. Really really. It's like, "Oh, you hate my ideology but you'll grace me with your sex because I'm hot enough to meet your dubious standards-- but only until you find a Nice Christian Woman to take home to your parents and eventually marry?" And they always seem to think that I'll be more than happy to hop in the sack with them and get completely offended when I inform them that I don't have relationships of any kind with sexist cretins who don't respect me. I've kicked guys out of my room for being anti-choice before, and I'll do it again. It's not negotiable. The entitled attitude that they have makes me ill.
6. "I just got in from Iraq and I'm a WAR HERO. It's your patriotic duty to nail me!" See above. Once again, I'm not sure what would possess a DECORATED WAR HERO to hit on me, an ultra-liberal pacifist who has opposed the war in Iraq since well before it even started-- except for the prospect of hot sex with an easy liberal chick. Sorry, Bubba, it doesn't work that way. I hear they sell confederate flag bikinis down near the Country Music Hall of Fame. You can find you a nice woman there.
This is just the short version.
I'm still keeping my account. The LOLZ it's provided me with have been
invaluable in times of stress, and I've made several really cool
friends from it as well. I'm not really interested in romance at this
stage, anyway. And when I get interested again, I'll hit the bars,
because they're way less weird than the internet.
I can't believe I'm writing this.
Seriously, people, in what alternate universe is calling sexual assault, which is not only an act of extreme brutality, it's absolutely horrifying and soul-shattering to experience, "surprise sex" acceptable? I'd kind of like to know so that I can send you there, never to return.
I'm not a big fan of the whole "OMG I RAPED THAT FINAL" or, conversely, "Boo hoo, that final raped me and left me in a metaphorical dumpster with my underwear torn and duct tape around my wrists! *kutkri*" routines, either. Call me crazy, but you really can't sexually violate an exam, nor can one sexually violate you. If you studied and did well, great. If you didn't study and did well anyway, really great. If you didn't study and failed, ha, sucks to be you. But for the love of freaking god, rape is not an acceptable analogy for any of these processes. It's not cute, it's not clever, it's not funny.
All it is is really fucking offensive and all it does is make me hate you and not want to talk to you ever again.
Especially those of you who know full well what I've been dealing with lately. Screw you.
First of all, it's not little. It weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve pounds which, for a laptop, is freaking enormous. Especially when you consider the horrible weight distribution that laptop carrying cases provide. Imagine carrying that through airports multiple times in a single school year (I went to a school in Southern California my freshman year), and you'll see why I have quite a bit of pent-up hostility directed at my laptop, which I have resolutely refused to name. It's not worthy.
Secondly, it worked more or less fine until literally one week after its warranty expired, at which point everything began to break. Grr. My current list of grievances against it includes:
-Taking forfreakingever to do anything, despite repeated hard drive consolidations, defraggings, and deletings of my extensive library of Beavis and Butthead (don't judge me) and Daria episodes along with sundry music videos.
-Instigating a holy war with my printer that has resulted in me being unable to keep the two connected for more than a few minutes at a time. If they're linked up for longer than half an hour or so, they both crash and become paperweights just long enough for me to have a multiple-artery coronary only to spring merrily to life again. Not. Funny. At. All.
-Randomly deciding to link the functioning of the 1 key to the 3 key. If I want to type 1 or !, I must hit and hold down the 3 key or the shift and 3 key first- and then go back and delete the one. I would C&P, but the control key on that side is broken as well! Ain't computer owenership grand?
-Not automatically deleting temporary files. What a pain.
-Killing off the ethernet port for some reason entirely unknown to me. I am now wireless-dependent. This isn't a problem at school since my residence hall has wireless everywhere, but it really sucks at home because I have to use my mom's computer and she doesn't enjoy my 3AM AIM conversations quite as much as I do.
-Innumerable suicide theats.
So much for computers being the wave of the future that will save us all countless hours of productivity. I'd have been better off with a typrewriter. I'm going to visit my dad over Christmas and have him do a system restore (after I borrow his external hard drive and stick all the crap I still need on it) and see if that helps anything. I need this computer to make it 'til May.
Lesson Learned: When I finally get the money to replace this thing, I won't be purchasing a Dell.
Or, why I probably won't be celebrating any major holidays when I am a grown-up (and by grown-up, I mean "Not Living With My Parents Anymore").
My main quibble with holidays is that they stress me out, and I don't like being stressed out. While I can get behind the idea of everyone taking time out of their busy lives to sit down and appreciate one another in theory, the reality is usually far from that. "Taking time out of our busy lives" usually translates to "Cramming a million extra things into our already packed-out schedules, which inevitably results in everyone rushing around on benzadrines and Diet Coke as they frantically cook, shop, and make themselves presentable for a get-together that they might not even really want to attend in the first place, and certainly not after getting less than five hours of sleep every night for the past two weeks on top of all the insane running about." This inevitably results in lots of pent-up resentment and aggression.
So, instead of the holidays being one big, merry get-together, they usually become a "Let's all pretend to be happy and fun-loving and gracious about operating on nothing but overpriced Starbucks' frppucinos and No-Doz and four hour's sleep and spend the entirety of the occasion passive-aggressively sniping at one another"-Fest Of Doom. I'm not a fan, not really, especially since I don't like being sniped at, either. Especially when the sniping involves how two teeny yeast rolls are going to make my ass huge (this happened earlier today). It's so counterproductive.
Furthermore, why should we feel obligated to make some unholy to-do out of being nice to one another? Are we really so horrendously ugly to ourselves, friends, and family on an everyday basis that it's necessary to stretch ourselves well beyond our breaking points in a resentment-laden, superficial show of affection that ultimately leaves us more stressed out and miserable than we were before?
Don't get me wrong; I'm not averse to showing affection [contrary to popular familial belief]; I just think that if I'm going to throw a dinner party and cook for 572368253765 people, I'd rather not do it while I'm trying to send cards to, spend quality time with, and/or buy gifts for the same 572368253765 people. Throwing a dinner party is exhausting enough without throwing everything else into the mix. I'm also not a big fan of Holiday Debt or Present Pressure, either; I'd much rather buy/make/give things out as the mood hits me. It's easier on my sanity as well as my fingers (I crocheted my hands stiff last year making toboggans for everyone). Besides, it's more fun to pleasantly surprise someone at random than getting Present Performance Anxiety at the same time every year.
I think that's why I'm such a big fan of birthdays. Most of my friends' and family's birthdays are all scattered throughout the year, which alleviates quite a bit of the ADD-esque stress that I associate with the holidays. When someone has a birthday, I can focus on doing something nice for them on their special day instead of running around like the proverbial headless chicken and never getting to actually do anything with anyone. I also like the idea of planning my get-togethers at random times of the year, when I and the people I invite will be able to appreciate them without having to worry about possibly shafting half a dozen other friends and family members' parties.
So, when I grow up, I will celebrate birthdays and random acts of friendly/familial appreciation-- and will hopefully find some like-minded people to do the same.
When I was a wee young Lauren, I always looked forward to Daylight Savings Time, because it meant that I got a whole extra hour to sleep on Saturday nights, thereby providing me with ample justification to stay up late watching SNL. Up until this week, I looked forward to it for similar reasons, as I often work Sunday morning and having to curtail my Saturday night partying is kind of a drag. However, I came to a rude awakening on Sunday morning: my room is flooded with light at seven-freaking-thirty in the A-freaking-M. This is a problem, since I rarely go to bed before midnight (I usually average one or two AM). Curtains are not a logistical option, and my blinds are ineffective. Looks like early mornings for me for the next month or so.
I feel so betrayed.
Daylight Savings Time, you are DEAD TO ME.
And nobody be upset if I'm cranky. I get that way when I am unfairly deprived of sleep.
Does anyone else think that red-headed sluts taste like cough syrup?
