Curiosity

Sometimes, I have to wonder what the appeal is to tying ones self to another person. Days like this, I find myself wanting to propose to someone.

I think I need to be slapped on days like this.

New Thoughts

The more I read on feminism, the less I seem capable of describing myself as one. At one point, I would have found this sad, but as my world has shifted to encompass ideas outside of what I knew, I'm finding myself to be glad for the loss of this label.

Why? Because with it comes the idea that many of my favorite bloggers are nothing more than contemptible faux human beings who are setting women back by decades.

How? Because they enjoy/work involving some sort of sexual "deviancy." Former call girls, dommes, pornography pioneers who are working towards broadening the scope to include hard core made for women. These women are the ones who are promoting true feminism.

Not women who promote the idea that sex should always be vanilla. That women shouldn't be using sex as a means of supporting themselves. Yes, some women live hard lives that leave them feeling as if they have no choice but to go to sex work, but not all women in the industry are like that. Not all women using sex to get money are crack whores. In the case of Belle de Jour, you have a brilliant woman who willingly chose to prove the idea that sex sells.

Anyways, enough of my prattling. Ta for now.

I must learn to avoid picking up my phone on bad days turned good. Doing so usually winds up leading me back down the bad day path once again.

After working and then spending a few hours with an old friend of mind, I went home and tried to have a few hours to myself in which I could write and read a little Carlin. Half an hour into my evening, however, I make the major mistake of the evening.

He at first texted me with a goofy comment much like before all of the drama began. I was hoping that maybe he just wanted to be friends again. what can I say? After a good day, I'm allowed to be childishly hopeful, aren't I?

Apparently not.

Shortly into our conversation, he wanted to speak seriously. Warning signal number 1. I should have realized where this was going to go, but I, being childishly hopeful still, believed that maybe he was working towards the last bit of closure. Nope. He wanted to continue on about my lack of interest. He wanted to continue to push me into dangerous territory that is the emotional aspect of my being. This may seem like I'm being irrational about it all, but take into account that the last time I became as emotional as he wanted me to go was in January of 2008, which he himself admitted. This is dangerous territory due to the fact that around this time, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to the stress that was continually piling on due to deaths, bad roommates, and other personal issues.

Now, when my head is back to where is should be, how can I be expected to be so emotionally fragile? It's not a part of who I am normally. He knows this but still fails to comprehend that pushing me to talk is simply a means of pushing me away.

I wound up emotional, all right, though not the way he wanted. In this girl's opinion, it seemed like he wanted me to be all weepy and gushy, declaring that he was right, and I should want to shag him and be his emotional fuck toy. Instead, he was dealing with the enraged girl who doesn't show this side of herself often.

It's for that reason that I'm tempted to cut off communication permanently. To cut this source of drama out of my life. I don't need someone who needs me on the verge of a nervous breakdown just so I'd run to him as my shoulder to cry on. I have other friends for that, and they'd rather see me stable and healthy.

And as an ironic ending to this post, I have to say that Belle de Jour once again proves to be right. Here is the post that I read that seems to perfectly describe the way he's been acting. And please note, dear readers, that I had all but this last paragraph written before I came across this entry. My points as to how this works --

• "In other words, what Nice Guy is hoping to do is wear down a woman’s resistance over time in the hope that she will give in someday – most likely shortly after a breakup, or under the influence of alcohol – and bestow on him a Pity Fuck" -- I cannot count the number of times that he's referred to himself as a "Nice Guy." In addition to this, he's blatantly tried to get me drunk, insisting that I "get wasted," on my birthday during which time he was going to be in my presence.
• "A Nice Guy will only establish a friendship with a woman with the intention of cracking on to her eventually." -- I believe that the current drama is a sign of this.
• "'Nice Guy' will: hand her a tenner for the taxi 'only as long as you meet me for drinks next week’."-- A different take on this but along the same vein. When I last saw him, I left a ring at his place. I've politely asked for it to be returned twice. He's since then stated that he's only going to give me a ring when I let him stay with me for a week.
• "'Nice Guy' will: steer the conversation towards relationships. Either hers (the better to put her in a vulnerable position) or his (the better to elicit sympathy)." -- Yes, I do believe in honesty, but I also recall how he was asking me about my past relationships both simply romantic as well as sexual shortly after our first conversation. I also recall telling him that my past sexual partners have been ones who I've lost interest in almost immediately, only to have him say that we should sleep together just to see if that would happen. I told him that I'd rather remain friends than risking it all over a simple night of fucking.
• "'Nice Guy' will: come on strong, move quickly, and throw blame at her if she gets cold feet. He'll jump straight to the L-word, often without knowing much more about her than surface qualities. Is considerably nicer to her when he knows others are watching." -- The first time he ever hugged me, he moved in for the kiss and grope. For which I almost decked him. He's said the L-word more times than I can recall, and all I've told him is what I either wanted him to know (as bad as that turn of phrase sounds) or what I'd revealed during my more fragile moments. Nothing truly about me. No depth to his knowledge. No caring for anything that doesn't really involve him getting shagged.

So, after all of this, I'm tempted to go ahead and say "keep the ring and lose my number." This drama has gone on long enough, and I'm frankly tired of it.