I'm in one of my ranting moods again. So here goes...

I'm the type of girl that acts like "one of the guys". I'm not very girly, not in terms of looks because I've been told that I do look girly, but when it comes to personality I'm really like a boy. I love, like passionately love almost all sports. I get into fights/debates/arguments with all my guy friends and can whip almost anybody when it comes to football knowledge. I'm also not like typical girls in that when I start hanging out with a guy a lot I don't usually do it because I have an interest and I don't develop one while I'm friends with them, USUALLY. I can't deny that obviously if you hang out with somebody a lot, it obviously means you're attracted to them and get along with them very well, so it obviously does set the stage for potential change in feelings, but that's beside the point.

So yea, I get along with guys sometimes even more so than girls. And I have a friend who...I get along with very well. Ever since we got to know each other we just hit it off in the purely platonic sense. I can't speak for him, but I was NEVER initially attracted to him. But whatever, we were/are close. I was with him through the ups and downs of his relationships, friendships, school troubles and he for mine. We just...clicked and I had some of the most fun, interesting, captivating conversations with him which made me respect and value him as an asset in my life. He broke up with his girlfriend around 2 months ago and I was the person he called right before and after the break-up, that's how close we were. After that, we obviously got super close. Like hang out almost everyday, talk everyday kind of close. Don't get me wrong, I knew what people would say and how they would think about the fact that we hung out as much as we did, but I was ready for that. What I wasn't ready for was to what extent people's opinions would be asserted.

My friends and roommates obviously questioned the nature of my relationship, but they merely questioned and I was happy to answer them back honestly and put to rest their troubled minds. Obviously I should have expected his friends to be doing the same thing on his end. Boy was I naive. They definitely saw what other people saw, but apparently it wasn't enough for them to just poke fun and laugh about the matter, they decided that they had figured everything out and formed their own theory. Here's the breakdown of what they're claiming:

I am in love with my friend, but my friend and my roommate have chemistry and it bothers me.

Erm..yea. Except for the fact that none of this is true AT ALL. First of all, my friend has a long term boyfriend who she's been on and off with since middle school. Secondly, what can I say besides I don't love him, nor have an interest in him at all? What pissed me off more is that they assumed all of this with only have met me and my roommate twice in their entire lives. Uh huh...It probably took my mother 18 years to figure me out and she still doesn't know how I think and yet these stupid boys are claiming they know me after having spent probably a total of 5 hours with me. I'd be okay if they just kept this knowledge to themselves, but when we did hang out all together they did everything they could to test me. One of them sidled up to me and started whispering in my ear asking me what I thought about my roommate and him. This person being the main architect of this ridiculous theory would obviously have known that if I really did like my friend...asking me about the chemistry between him and my roommate is probably the WORST thing you can say to me. Can I say douchebag??

I couldn't help but feel that everything I did that night was being observed and noted as proof for their hypothesis. Now I'm a very proud girl who prides herself on being unique and different and I didn't appreciate his friends claiming that I was so easy to read that they could fuck around with me. I was already in a bad mood and so it didn't help that me being angry played into their idea that I was mad that my roommate and him were sparking some romance right in front of me. ERGH...

I haven't exactly decided what to do with this situation. I've been close with my friend because we obviously get along with each other amazingly well and it makes me sad that the best course of action for me at this point is to cool things off with him and distance myself. And it's stupid that I have to do this because his stupid friends can't seem to understand the concept of platonic opposite gender friendships. I know it's the best way and it'll allow me to stop being angry about it, but part of me is sad. Like this slow tugging of my heartstrings that leaves me feeling a little down. But then I think about how they tried to classify me into their mold of who I am and my sadness dissipates as quickly as my irritation replaces it.

this is me...don't mess. RAWR!

Aside from being a Christian, I realized that I'm a very prudish and uptight when it comes to the opposite gender. It takes a lot for me to even admit or show interest in a boy and an almost impossible amount more for me to agree to being a relationship. This has always played to my advantage since Christian society seems to possess this stigma of only dating with the intention of marriage (that's a whole 'nother can of worms that I don't want to go into today). With that being said, I realized that when it comes to physical contact, I have a less rigid standard of what I deem permissible for myself and a guy.

That obviously doesn't mean I think it's okay to sleep around or make out with everyone I'm friends with (because that also leads to awkward strains in your friendships), but I realized that I'm okay with holding hands, even spooning with guys. Granted I only do this when I know my relationships with said guy is purely as friends. It's weird. With guys that I potentially have an attraction to, I refrain from any sort of "inappropriate" contact. But such "inappropriate" contact and more in another situation is okay. So ultimately, with me at least, as long as my intentions are not of the romantical sort the limits to what I do with a guy is a lot more loose than if I felt that what I am doing could lead down a road of messiness and hurt feelings.

I've tried explaining my theory to my friends and all I've gotten were blank stares. They consider my behavior immoral by their standards. They can't understand how any physical contact is permissible with anyone other than someone you have an exclusive relationship with. Basically, physical "benefits" can only come with the commitment one puts into an actual relationship. I'm far from a slut, not even close, but the fact that I do certain things (which I think are harmless and innocent) is worse than the actions of my friends (who've gone even further than I) solely because I am not in a relationship while they are/were is RIDICULOUS. Yea you can preach all you want about how you're a conservative hand-holder and I'm a slutty one, but it doesn't justify the fact or mollify any guilty conscience of just how much was given up to that boy you thought you were going to marry. What good is it to refrain from doing anything just because you aren't dating someone, when once you start you lose all moral standards and give it all up? Obviously I'm harboring a tad bit of resentment, but it's just something that I wanted to discuss.

In the end, whether or not you are in a commited relationship or not, sex always weighs more than a peck, a hand-hold or a spoon. I just wanted to clear the air and take my stance on this whole ridiculous stigma.

awww so cute. stupid haters.

I had one of the worst days of my life, not because of anything really out of my control, but just because I was so dumb and irresponsible and overwhelmed with STUFF that I just flipped and did some idiotic things.

First of all, I had a physiology test today, the first of the semester and seeing as I'm a science major, doing well in science classes is awfully important to me. So it comes as no surprise that I spent the majority of my weekend devoting countless hours to reading up on the central nervous system and action potentials. Unfortunately for me, I'm a student with three other classes and I attend a university that imposes stupid general education rules upon us. Required courses such as writing...dun dun dun. Now I just want to clarify, I'm not a horrible writer, in fact I think I'm a pretty decent writer considering I'm a nerdy science gal, but me being the adventurous, "i'm-going-to-explore-every-option-available-to-me-while-i'm-still-a-student-even-if-it-kills-my-gpa-damn-it" person that I am, I decided to take the pre-law writing course. Why might you ask?

In all honesty, I really don't know why I did it. And that is the same answer I gave to my writing class in fact. While everyone else was raving about fulfilling their childhood dreams of being a litigator, I shut them all up with my answer that I really probably took the class out of boredom of science classes. HA! Take that, all you pretentious bastards!

Well yes. So on the day of my said physiology midterm, I also had my first writing paper due. Everything seemed all fine and dandy since I completed my paper, albeit it was incoherently strung together and I walked into my writing class expecting to just hand it in and be done with it. Until one of my peers asked me whether I was presenting my paper today. "No, not that I know of", I reply with a smile. Yet she continues to pry, "I think you are. My last name starts with a 'D' and I'm preseting today. He grouped us up by our last names". I blankly stare at her with my smile frozen on my face as panic begins to set in. I have an unnatural fear of anything that involves me speaking/dancing/singing/breathing in front of a group of other people. In addition to that phobia, I realize that I would then be required to read my essay in its entirety to the class so that they may pick it apart and criticize it. At this point, cold sweat breaks out, which just proves how nervous I was since it was 40 degrees today.

I dig through my bag for my syllabus and I frantically skim through it and discover another unfortunate situation. The essay is supposed to be 8 pages in length. Silly me, I thought this class was no different from any other writing classes which only require 5-6 pages per essay, and me being busy immersed in the pages of physiology had failed to notice this rather pressing detail. And me also being a "meet-the-adequate-requirements" kinda person had only written a 5 and a half page paper.

Only these words could encompass the extent of my panic/depression/disappointment/anger/frustration at this point...

eff my life.

I debated running away from the class and from the school for that matter and buying a tub of ice cream, going back to the apartment, and crying myself to oblivion as I lay in my bed. I also debated fainting in front of the professor so that he might see that I had a "legitimate" excuse as to my inability to turn in my paper and present it.

In the end, my logical senses took hold and commanded me to sit through the class, tell the professor the truth: that I wasn't prepared for the presentation and if I could possibly do it the next class period. I did just that and I ended up not turning in my paper at all and instead deciding that I would rewrite it, without the burden of studying for a midterm so that I wouldn't have to sit through the embarassment of being ripped apart by my future litigator classmates who probably resent me for having absolutely no interest in their future line of work.

And obviously after this traumatizing ordeal, I couldn't really get myself to focus on the midterm I had to take right after. And thus, I was owned by my physio exam as well. I think it's the saddest when you have two tasks given to you, but because of the weight of both the tasks on your shoulders, you're unable to do an adequate job in either, than if you had been given the two tasks separately. It drives me mad. Well I guess I should go finish writing that paper that I've been ranting to you all about.