name: amber
age: 22
location: new orleans
aim: sapgirly mail work
April 28, 2003
"I'm in that, seventy-four, Coupe DeVille
With the, power seats, leather, wood on my wheel
One-touch sunroof but leave it alone
Hoes see it can't believe it - 'It's goin back on its own'"
-- "Pimp Juice", Nelly
As a continuation of my drunken hook-up post, I would like to say that the dude I hooked up with Friday called me like three times (I'm assuming those hang-ups were him) and then finally had the guts to leave a messge. Of course I won't be returning his call. I mean, it was Audubon Park. And he's beyond not my type. I figure, however, that enough guys have done it to me that it's not a big deal if I don't call this guy back or even acknowledge his existence. I've been shrugged off enough that I can shrug someone off and not worry about it. Stupid boys.
In other news, last night, I got trashed with all my Phi Sigma Pi brothers. I had no intention of drinking but then I had a glass of wine, to go with my pasta. And then I had a Smirnoff Ice. It was downhill from there. Stupid Ice.
And I have got to quit playing Final Fantasy 8 and start studying. I have a paper and an exam Wednesday and it's a really hard test, too, possibly my hardest: chem. If I really bust my ass on it, I can pull a B+ in the class as opposed to a B. That's a whole .3 difference. I should be fighting for shit like that. Tomorrow is 80% studying, 20% eating and/or breaking. Ha. I'll study math after the exam Wednesday. I actually like studying for math. I know. This semester has been very trying.
This Trainspotting quiz is really lame because if you know the movie well enough (like myself), you know exactly which character the answers correspond to. And that sucks. In any case, I was Diane. Big surprise there.
Update: Delt formal was fabulous. Very nice -- very dorky. Didn't have a drop of liquor -- go me.
In other news, I was talking with Lara after and I realized that I have never hooked up with someone besides Joey when I wasn't drunk. Javier I did have a second date with and we did make out a bit then but I did originally meet him under the influence. I don't know if I can count him as a number two. Maybe I should quit having these drunken hookups. It's not like it's what I want or anything -- the person you hook up with when you're drunk is not exactly the person you want to call the next day and ask out on a date. Meh. Finals week and all this is over and I get to go home and deal with home drama -- like finding a job and being irritated at having to shop at Rite-Aid.
Alright, this is why I have a livejournal for friends and this website for people I don't know but that basically means myself:
I am the biggest slut. Met a guy at a bar last night, talked to him for maybe five minutes and agreed to "watch a DVD" with him which, interestingly, equalled being fingered in the middle of Audubon Park. I am the biggest slut. Bleh, I feel so nasty at this point. And I furthermore do this just about every time I get drunk -- not the Audubon Park but trying to hook up with a random guy. Tonight is the Delt formal. I am not getting drunk. I am not getting drunk. I am not getting drunk. ::sigh:: It's not going to happen.
My father was here this weekend. It's been weird seeing him since he moved to San Diego. For some reason it's a huge relief to have him gone. I miss him every now and then and all and wish my parents hadn't gotten divorce and that I saw him more often but it's very trying, emotionally, to be around him. Or maybe it's trying not to be around him. I felt a great sadness when I left him yesterday to go to chem. It may just have been that we were getting tests back, though. By the way, don't expect much out of me this week (like anyone ever should): my week is hell from here on out. I have a test and a paper due every day for the rest of this week.
You can't really blame people for being lonely. Everybody gets there at some point. Lots of people get there when they're drunk. Some people get there when they hear "Your Body is a Wonderland" by John Mayer. I don't remember who I was with first time I heard that song all the way through but she said, "Who doesn't want to be loved like that?" Friends will only take you so far and then you get back to your room and cry sometimes. And other times not. But if we're all there from time to time, why can't we take more pity on the lonely when we're feeling strong?
Okay, don't fuck Passover. Even if the "seder" was more like running through the story of the Exodus and reading some prayers and singing "Dayenu" and the four questions and then pigging out on Crystal's really yummy curry, it was still cool.
Here's a link to some pictures from the semiformal. I've been meaning to post it but have been lazy -- plus, I was expecting to just put pictures up here but Stephanie will never get around to doing it and I'll be waiting forever and then the chance that someone reading this that already read about my semi-formal will be back to see them is practically nil, so: here.
Important appendix to my ideal guy paragraph: his name definitely, absolutely, without a doubt does not start with a J. A name starting in J is immediate disqualification.
This weekend was great. It was the perfect end to the not-so-serious season and now I have to deal with the very-serious season -- three tests Wednesday, how beautiful.
Saturday was a lot of fun. It was my Phi Sigma Pi formal and instead of bringing some stupid boy, I brought my two girls Stephanie and Lara and I know I had fun. They don't know my brothers so it was less for them, I think, but I hope they had a good time. I'll post pictures when Stephanie gets off her butt and sends some to me. But in any case, 360 is really swanky. The floor rotates, hence the name, which became quite irritating when I wanted to sit on the windowsill but perfectly fine otherwise. The drinks were really nice but they were carding like the cops were going to storm in there any minute so the older brothers had to buy everyone else drinks. Boo-hoo for them. Met some cool people. Finally got to Shim-Sham, even if it was just to sit on the balcony and have one more drink. And I always swear I'm not going to let someone who's been drinking drive me home and it always falls through. But I also always promise not to end up alone downtown (or anywhere, for that matter). Lesser of two evils.
Tequila and I finally made up last night, as I found myself singing "Bohemian Rhapsody" in front of twenty people, six shots behind me. There may be nothing in the world cooler or more lame than karaoke. I think my soulful and heartfelt rendition of "I'm the Only One" by Melissa Etheridge was lost on the audience. I also think I might have been the only person that wasn't sober there. But it made it all the more hilarious. I did manage to con my friend Keith into singing "Material Girl" with me on (heaven forbid!) a recorded version.
They played a porn in my school's auditorium last night. It was fabulous for about fifteen minutes and then it got really boring. I'd never seen a porn all the way through and I just don't understand why the film is longer than twenty minutes. Apparently, there's only so many ways to get fucked. The fact that the first scene was the most inventive (and had the greatest shock value) definitely put the film on a downward slope. But I did get to see it free because I sold tickets (I've officially worked for the porn industry) so I felt like I should stay til the end and really get the full effect -- the "climax" was the lead actress getting fucked by three guys at once. I, honestly, was unimpressed. The basic "plot" (ha) was that the lead "actress" (ha) Elsa started a group called "Club Sin" for divorced women that wanted to "have some fun." Basically, it's a fuck-fest with willing monkey dick boys. The objective in the first couple sex scenes, it seemed, was to get the girl off. This took an interesting and creepy turn when two of the girls in the group were picked out to be "not worthy" and had to keep four guys hard for as long as possible. Elsa and her "partner" Angela kept yelling at them things like "you can do better than that, trailor trash!" When Angela and Elsa went at it together, it was angry which was really strange -- "you like that, bitch!?" was heard a couple of times. They were fucked with a vengeance. The last scene, where Elsa was getting fucked by three guys was more like she was fucking them because immediately after they all came in her face, she jumps up and says "there, is that what you wanted!? I proved myself." At which point Angela says something along the lines of 'this will never make you happy -- the answers you want are somewhere else' and leaves, all the other girls in the club following her. Elsa gets really pissed and screams fuck a couple times and then tells the boys she's not done with them and to get their "dicks hard again." Yeah.
And then Waldo's for 50 Cent night. And then there was a TUCP party in the UC with miniature golf and the aforementioned karaoke and make-a-Cd and a casino. It was a really cool night.
I've been working on this for a while now. Because I think it's important to know what you want. If you don't know what you want, then how can you possibly look for it and if you're not looking for it, how are you ever going to find it?
My ideal guy is at least 80% Ricky Fitz. The other 20% is a combination of Sid Vicious, Adam Duritz, Javier, Patrick Stewart and the unexpected.
He is passionate about something I can appreciate. He is kind and open and trusting and quiet (but not, of course, where it matters). He does not get embarassed easily. He has a skillful command of the language -- bordering on or perhaps even actually being eloquent. No one would describe him as "ordinary,"but it's likely they would use "intense." He probably has an olive or dark complexion. He is very intelligent, fiercely so. A career is probably important to him but not everything. He definitely has interests outside of school. He has a good taste in music, film or literature, but most likely all three. He loves doing things just for the hell of it. He is adventuresome, curious and daring. He's interested in school not just to get him to where he's going but because there he learns and he enjoys absorbing information. He drinks, but not a lot. It is likely that he occasionally uses drugs, some hard ones. Though, of course, not an addict, he's open to new experiences and willing to try anything once. He probably has or does smoke, but will not continue to do so for much longer. He has a very dry sense of humour. It's likely that he's sarcastic and probably cynical but is lighthearted. He has the ability to laugh at himself and exercises it regularly, if not out loud. He wears thrift, almost exclusively. He knows where the best bookstore in town is, and has a favourite tree in the park. He drives an old car and it's possible that he knows how to fix it himself but more likely he drives it to look cool and has to take it to a repair shop when it breaks down. He's very confident and walks like it. He carries himself in such a manner that you feel comfortable around him. Not without his bad days or moods, he is in general a positive person -- probably believing in karma and doing his best to live in that principle. His major is more likely to be philosophy than anything else but whatever he studies, he brings new life to it -- sees it in a different way than the other people around him. He does something creative -- he writes, draws or takes pictures maybe but probably plays the guitar. Lord knows I would love it if he were in a band, but he's probably not. He just writes songs occasionally and plays them, with skill. He's beautiful and lonely and nonchalant. And he's completely in love with me.
Can I just reiterate that I love being in college?
So, last night, I became a Reel Big Fish fan. And a much bigger Better Than Ezra fan. They put on a hell of a show. Damn! I get so excited and passionate about music.
Wow. So that's what it's like when someone drunk throws themself at someone sober. I'm not used to being on the receiving end. How incredibly awkward. Let me make an attempt at promising that I will never, ever do that again and instead always wallow in my own misery rather than suffer the embarassment of dragging someone else into it. Though I'd probably turn around and do it tonight. But my point is I will try.
On another note: yesterday was a lot of fun. I love being in college. I spent four hours on my UC quad today -- there was a band and a "Newcomb carnival" where there was all kinds of free candy, popcorn, snowballs and arcade and fair games. It was a blast. I take so much joy in simple pleasures.
If I were the king of the world
Tell you what I'd do
Throw away the cars and bars and wars
And make sweet love to you
Yes I'd make sweet love to you
Singing joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Why do I feel so good today? "Purge purge purge away" the sturgeon said to the guppie at bay.
I wish I could get my head out of the sand 'cuz I think we'd make a good team
and you would keep my fingernails clean
but that's just a stupid dream that I won't realize
'cuz I can't even look in your eyes I'm a pathetic stupid bastard. But it's my life and I fuck it up on my goddamn own. And drag people right down with me. It bothers me, a lot, that after all this time Javier would affect me so strongly. And not even Javier but a poor imitation of him. Why do I make this one stupid thing matter so much? Why do I let this one bit of my life validate everything else?
Read: Today, around four, the telephone rang. I don't answer the phone anymore because it's always Jessie's boyfriend. But this time, the message was for me. It goes "Hola, Amber -- this is Javier." and proceeds into a minute-long phone call where "Javier" tells me that he's sorry he hasn't talked to me and that he's going to call me tomorrow and that he's got lots of stories for me. ::sigh:: And me, the gullible, trusting girl that I am, totally buy it and proceed to tell everyone I know that Javier called. But of course, because in the real world people don't dwell on a person they only knew for two days, it wasn't Javier at all but actually my roommate's friend JP. I'm disgusted at myself for falling for it and mad at Jessie and Stephanie for playing the trick in the first place but I'm much more upset at myself. And at things in general: Javier was my last romantic interest. That was four months ago and this is college. I feel so fucking desperate -- I actually believed it was him. Because I wanted it to be so bad. Just for an answer, even. Just to hear that I wasn't so easy to throw away.
I get to that point in my life where I'll take anyone. Where I'll accept and even pursue a person that I ordinarily wouldn't think twice about. Because it's hard to be alone. It's hard to be alone at all but it's hard to be alone after you've been with someone. I just want to get right back to safe. I haven't been there in a long time.
I'm playing hookey right now. I should be at bio but I'm skipping it for the second time in a row. I have become so incredibly lazy. And also tired. And then I decided without acknowledging it that I was going to reinvest in something I had given up on. But I've decided anew -- I'm giving up. It's so easy to get the material things you want but all the stuff that you can't buy or win or cheat your way into -- that's what ends up hurting the most when you don't have it. Or maybe I just grew up in the suburbs because in my Latin-American studies reading, there are women who said that they had the love worked out of them systematically but getting up at 4 am and going to bed at 11. So to conclude my incoherent rambling (which is necessary due to the extreme lack of updates): there's some fucked-up shit going on in Latin America.
