Eliza Doolittle

I feel like her right now. I guess "right now" isn't very specific. It's been since I started school again after a two-year long hiatus. The thing is, I see the importance of words, but "right now" I've got them all in a big soup bowl in my mind and they jumble together, sometimes in semi-coherent lumps, but for the most part, form this giant useless slush in my mind. I can come up with some interesting points, none of which come to mind now, but I can't form a whole cohesive message to spit them into.

Maybe it'll just be something I see. A guy talking to a girl in class, or the way someone moves their hand when writing, walking a ridiculous "labyrinth" made of canvas on a gym floor. These things make me think, but I feel ridiculous saying them to others. Who am I to think that this idea my brain has formed hasn't been formed somewhere else in a better-spoken persons mind given the same themed stimulus?

I'm a people watcher, but I don't share what I've learned of it often, again, because I'm not so presumptuous to think I've come up with something new in a race of people thousands of years old. I did notice that, when someone does something "embarrassing," it's not the action that causes responses from others; it's the person's reaction to said embarrassing action. For instance, I would hear someone fart in class, and everyone would laugh especially hard if the person who farted got red in the face or looked around nervously. However, if the person who committed the offense didn't look flustered in the slightest, maybe some people would laugh with them, or for a more respected person, he/she could make the people who laughed embarrassed that their response was so juvenile to such a trivial thing as human flatulence. This idea, I've known since high school, but I explained it to a friend the other day and he seemed enthralled and perplexed never having thought of the idea himself.

On the other hand, there are people who think that each of their ideas is a golden nugget to be vomited onto others without the other person having elicited it in any way. A young man came into my work one day, and I hadn't noticed him much at all. When I was in the Nigh Center at the University, he approached me and it was obvious to me that his dominance wasn't questioned often.

He says to me, "I know you. Star Bucks." It was a weird bunch of words to me and I just looked at him to finish. I assume his straightforward nature wins him a lot of friends and admirers, but I'm used to this game and don't bite. I'm honestly not interested. He seems like a copy+paste to me. "No, Java Dave's," he finishes. "Ah. Yes, I work there. I think I remember seeing you there." Of course, this is no compliment since most of Java Dave's patrons are regulars and having this young man come in was a bit of a change.

So he brandishes a newspaper at me and opens it up, "Have you seen this before?"

"What is that? Our school paper?"

"Yeah. This guy here," opening up to a certain page, "he's got something cool to say." I see that it's his picture, and giving him the benefit of the doubt, I take the paper and tell him I'll read it. And then I do. It's the most unwarranted brazen bunch of shit you'd hear from someone who just found out that there's a world outside of high school, and thinks he's enlightened because he might have taken a philosophy class. I'm not saying that I'm a genius, but something that bothers me is people who think they're wise but no nothing. There's a quote somewhere about that, but I won't bother looking it up.

Basically, this guy goes into how UCO won't allow smoking on campus (and a nice aside jammed in here about how he smokes hand-rolled cigarettes) but they have coke machines and it's because they make money off snack machines. He uses a sophomoric approach in which he acts surprised like he "cannot believe" that UCO, who appears to be an advocate for better health, would do such a thing as allow snack and coke machines on campus! Oh the horror! At any rate, I guess I don't want to be one of THOSE people.

At the same time, I guess this is a bit of a hindrance to me because I don't feel like my writing is worth much and so instead of writing crap, I write nothing. A good friend of mine wrote an amazing poem about how he has a pile of garbage he's written, and the final line is, "But like my mom always said, 'You are what you don't shit.'" I loved it, but haven't QUITE heeded it's lesson as of yet. I'm working on it, but when I sit down to write, I feel like I sound like these peddlers of pablum that I so despise.

It does feel better to finally type this out and get this off my chest, though. Usually I just leave it at telling someone, "I don't like to think of myself as someone so important as to amuse myself by telling people something they might already know." I know it's a bit defeatist, but I'm only human. I think the hardest thing for people to do is forgive themselves of their faults. It's why they get so defensive when someone points them out or points out an action implying the fault. It's because people find it hard to forgive themselves for it. That's what I think anyway. I suppose that's all I have to say for now. Signing out.

Batteries

So here's my dilema: I had a topic to write about on here, but I forgot it...luckily I recorded it on my handy little pocket recorder that I keep in my purse. Unfortunately, the batteries died in it. When I realized this, I looked at the tv remote I had brought with me here to the table, but when I put those batteries in, the recorder still said my battery was low. So I thought back to the night before last.

On a sort of date, I went to Christie's Toy Box to FINALLY get a vibrator that I had too long been embarrassed to buy. I get there and I see the guy behind the counter is someone I sort of recognize...one of those peripheral characters that you've seen around at shows or whatnot, but you both know you're too cool to acknowledge the fact that you sort of know each other and to go through the akward phase where you go, "Oh...hey....I think I know you from somewhere, right? Where do you work? No? Where do you go to school? Who do you hang out with? Well, where did you USED to work?" It's just too cumbersome. Anyway, I find one that's not too big and seems like...I DON'T KNOW! I'VE NEVER BOUGHT ONE BEFORE! So anyway, out of the three I pick one that looks like this:

I think that, when I go to check out, these people are trained to be sensitive about these kinds of things. My "date" is making jokes about "later", however, I have no intentions of using it when he's around, and then I think the guy behind the counter thinks I'm one of "those" kinds of girls. I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO COME IN HERE ALONE!!! Which seems ridiculous to me at this point, since I didn't originally want anyone to think I was this lonely...whatever. Anyway, so he TAKES the THING out of the fucking package!!! He's sitting here handling this thing I'm planning to shove in my vagina and it makes me a bit uncomfortable. He's putting batteries in it and he asks me, "Do you wanna feel it?"

"Oh...it looks like it'll be fine," then I realize I seem like I'm uncomfortable, "I mean...yeah. Let me touch it." It feels like a dick. Okay. So he continues to tell me that it takes tripple As. I try to make a joke and say something like, "Oh, I guess if the batteries go out, I won't be using my tv remote for a while..." I think he laughed. I can't remember.

By the time I got home, I was almost repulsed by the amount of trouble this damn thing has caused and I just take it out of the package to put it away in a drawer. Well, I just moved Friday, so nothing FITS in any drawer. I shoved anything I could in them to make it appear like my place wasn't SO messy, but really, it was terribly messy. I just shove the vibrator under my pillow.

The next day, I go pick up my friend who is on leave from the military. He's not much of a lady's mad, but he's a very interesting person. So he's helping me clean, which I was utterly grateful for. I had been kind of in a depression since my place was so messy that I didn't even want to be there. Well, he's folding my laundry, but I notice my panties, bras, and socks strewn about completely untouched. He knows I'm not TOO shy about those things with my friends, but it makes him a bit uncomfortable.

I put up all my clothes and leave to clean the kitchen. Every now and then I go to check on him. But after I got done cleaning the kitchen, I was about to go help him in the room when I glance at the bed and realize with horror that the bed has been made. I look at him questioningly..."Did you....uh....make my bed?" He looked down and, without looking at my eyes, "Yeah." I look back at the bed and see that the blanket it perfectly placed, except towards the top where the pillows look carelessly placed. "So you..."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

So now, right now, I'm trying to decide...do I use the vibrator batteries?