I am trying I guess...
Monday, July 9, 2007
Growing up, I always held the ideal of the 'NY woman' as my aspiration -- fashionable, feminine yet assertive, tough, and always extrodinarily put together. I acheived my goal when I was 18, during my first year of my women's college experience. I was always well dressed, 15 lbs thinner, make-up on perfectly, the perfect first date who laughed at the the dumbest jokes and struck the balence of making a woman feel like a million dollars yet making her second guess whether you were completely into her. The year I began my first year of college, I was unstoppable when I went out. I would walk into a straight bar and I would end up pushed against the wall being ravaged by some hot sexually confused woman.
Now let's examine where my I am 6 years later. 15 lbs heavier, forgotten how to put on make-up, there is something always eskew with my outfits (yesterday I ran out of clean clothes and had to febreeze myself and this morning I got deoderant all over my black summer dress that did not quite fit perfectly), and I lost my nasty streak -- the streak that made women find me so insanely attractive.
See, my undergrad was co-ed, but I considered it more of a women’s college due to the lack of men and the absurd amount of lezies and bi curious girls from no name towns. So, with that said, my “women’s college” education made women more assertive, allowed us to pursue our intellectual potential with minimal male classroom domination and all in all, a women's college education makes us better humanbeings. If I am such a better humanbeing, why am I pining away for the days when I was 18? The days I would laugh in a girl’s face if she didnt kiss well, buy me my drink on time, or wasn't hot enough for me. Granted, I am a nicer human being, I no longer laugh in girl’s faces, give everyone a chance (because there may be a diamond in the rough), and try to keep in mind that even the less fornuate looking women are humanbeings with a story to tell.
Fuck my education, college gave me a conscience.
Living in sweatpants for 4 years will mess with a girls sense of fashion and her self esteem. Granted during those 4 years I worked on my "self:" I can debate the validity of Nietzsche, hold intellect in the highest regard, and value life experience rather than the mall experience. I learned to value myself as an intellectual as opposed to a cute well put together NYC Lezie. Hence why I have been sorta single ever since. Living in those sweatpants taught me that sometimes fabulous people dont always look so fabuous.
For the past two years, having become a bonafide NYer, I have tried so hard to become the woman I once was..the woman who always had her hair- did, always had a quick joke, an a cigg dangling out of her mouth ( not too sexy I suppose). The woman who would never get horribly drunk, who sipped her vodka as opposed to chugging, and cured hangovers with water and fruit as opposed to scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. I tried hard within this past year to become the woman I was at 18 but since I work in publishing, and there are no eliglble lezies who I work with, I went back to old habits – the partying, the “I don’t really give a fuck look” You may have chugged coors light back in the day, my friends and I chugged shots of absolut vodka while playing power hour.
Now that I have everything in place that would force me to become the woman I have always wanted to (appearance and alcohol consumption wise, everything else I am really happy with myself), I think I forgot! This morning I got my deoderant all over my black summer dress. Instead of making a big deal, scrubbing it out, I shrugged my shoulders and rationalized that we are all human, as I pulled my hair back into a messy bun.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
I have spent the last 5.5 years romanticizing the messy intllectual, the quiet one with a nose in her book, who always looks slightly astray. I am 24 going on 25... I am working with cute straight ladies with probably even cuter friends. Oh 18 yr old me...where are you?
Now let's examine where my I am 6 years later. 15 lbs heavier, forgotten how to put on make-up, there is something always eskew with my outfits (yesterday I ran out of clean clothes and had to febreeze myself and this morning I got deoderant all over my black summer dress that did not quite fit perfectly), and I lost my nasty streak -- the streak that made women find me so insanely attractive.
See, my undergrad was co-ed, but I considered it more of a women’s college due to the lack of men and the absurd amount of lezies and bi curious girls from no name towns. So, with that said, my “women’s college” education made women more assertive, allowed us to pursue our intellectual potential with minimal male classroom domination and all in all, a women's college education makes us better humanbeings. If I am such a better humanbeing, why am I pining away for the days when I was 18? The days I would laugh in a girl’s face if she didnt kiss well, buy me my drink on time, or wasn't hot enough for me. Granted, I am a nicer human being, I no longer laugh in girl’s faces, give everyone a chance (because there may be a diamond in the rough), and try to keep in mind that even the less fornuate looking women are humanbeings with a story to tell.
Fuck my education, college gave me a conscience.
Living in sweatpants for 4 years will mess with a girls sense of fashion and her self esteem. Granted during those 4 years I worked on my "self:" I can debate the validity of Nietzsche, hold intellect in the highest regard, and value life experience rather than the mall experience. I learned to value myself as an intellectual as opposed to a cute well put together NYC Lezie. Hence why I have been sorta single ever since. Living in those sweatpants taught me that sometimes fabulous people dont always look so fabuous.
For the past two years, having become a bonafide NYer, I have tried so hard to become the woman I once was..the woman who always had her hair- did, always had a quick joke, an a cigg dangling out of her mouth ( not too sexy I suppose). The woman who would never get horribly drunk, who sipped her vodka as opposed to chugging, and cured hangovers with water and fruit as opposed to scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. I tried hard within this past year to become the woman I was at 18 but since I work in publishing, and there are no eliglble lezies who I work with, I went back to old habits – the partying, the “I don’t really give a fuck look” You may have chugged coors light back in the day, my friends and I chugged shots of absolut vodka while playing power hour.
Now that I have everything in place that would force me to become the woman I have always wanted to (appearance and alcohol consumption wise, everything else I am really happy with myself), I think I forgot! This morning I got my deoderant all over my black summer dress. Instead of making a big deal, scrubbing it out, I shrugged my shoulders and rationalized that we are all human, as I pulled my hair back into a messy bun.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
I have spent the last 5.5 years romanticizing the messy intllectual, the quiet one with a nose in her book, who always looks slightly astray. I am 24 going on 25... I am working with cute straight ladies with probably even cuter friends. Oh 18 yr old me...where are you?
at 18 I was either high or drunk or getting laid, sometimes all three.
good times.
oh god. don't publish any of them.