I know! or, The Post Where I Pretend to be a Woman

I can talk about something incredibly stupid.


So I found this e-nightclub.

You make a character and go to this nightclub on the internet and dance and interact with other epeople just like you would with real people at a real club in real life, but it's in the internet.

Defeats the purpose? What are you talking about?!


It's great, I signed up, and I act just like I would at a real club, if I ever started frequenting one: I walk around, sit in corners, and don't talk to anyone.

Even when they speak to me, I just ignore them. Again, just like real life.


I am enjoying myself immensely. People are trying so hard to engage me in conversation, but I frustrate them at every turn!


What a wonderful game.




Of course, I am pretending to be a pretty lady.

Being a guy was just no fun. Plus, brown hair, brown eyes, average height?


Boring!


Strangely enough, while you can't fight or have sex, you can totally drown.


...

Hey!

Some guy just threatened to rape me!


What a jackass.

I'm going to become a big black man and ask him if the offer's still open.


To bad pretty ladies can't do that in real life.

Of course, it's probably my fault for being so damn good looking.




(This post is probably heading to disturbing places, places that amuse me greatly, but which will probably be disturbing to you, you should be warned, it may have implications for you later on down the road. I read this book, Queen of Angels, where this group of scientists went into this serial killer's brain to see what made him tick badly and in the end the bad part escaped into one of the scientist's mind, even though that was supposed to be impossible, and nothing really happened to her after that, but it was icky none the less. Anyways, I'm just saying, it could happen to you too, if you stay, and it'll probably be icky and maybe something would happen, too)

I am tall for a girl, with pretty red hair and green eyes behind those cool trapezoidal type glasses that I've learned to call "emo glasses," even though I believe I first saw them on the lead singer for Weezer and he's not emo in my take on the definition.

I actually need a new pair of glasses, and I want ones kind of like that but they're expensive.

Except if I got them at Wal-Mart, but those might be too thick and boxy maybe?


Ahh, God. I tabbed back over and some guy was positioned almost on top of me.


Disgusting. Keep your hands to yourself, loser.


You wish.

He called me Scully, I guess I look like Scully?


Possibly, I'm working what I think the indie look is like, and that's like kind of like how FBI agents dress, right? Grey blazer (and a green shirt that sets off my eyes. I think. How does one set off eyes? Is it by wearing similar colors? That's the assumption I'm operating over) and a tartan skirt, as well as red...pumps(?) that match my hair.


I am a totally piping hot and delicious piece of strudel. But no strudel for you!

And I just tried the dancing part, and I am really good at it!



Very graceful and sensual, but not at all overly forward or dirty.




So I have a new roommate for the summer. Roommate's graduated and most of her stuff is moved out.

I still haven't gotten over the fact that Ex-roommate won't be coming over and causing any more ruckases (ruckasi?) He still has furniture over, as well as this cool fake-African walking stick that I liked playing with.


I've removed said walking stick to the far reaches of my closet. I'm claiming it in recompense for all those times I sweated over getting involved, the times I felt sick with guilt for not, the times where I allowed myself to be scared into pretending I wasn't at the apartment, and the multitudes of 3AMs at which I was awakened by yelling.


My stick now, bucko. Serves you right.

Because I should have called to police any number of times, and didn't. Because I am afraid of confrontation. Because I can always endure more! Because I use italics far too much! That is all your fault. So I will steal something from you, because that is hella mature.


She's (I'm) still dancing! Now I'm hopping like a bunny rabbit, a very pretty bunny rabbit!


So it was ironic when post-roommate apologized for playing the TV too loud last night. He was afraid he may have woke me up!


I wasn't sure what to say, so I just laughed. He probably thinks that I am pretty strange!



All that graceful and sensual dancing was tiring, so now I'm sitting out by a bunch of trees.

I'm still not responding to anyone.


The game's sort of starting to shrink on me. There are only so many corners to esulk in, so many people to ignore.


Apparently some people get jobs because otherwise they'd have nothing to do with their time.

This is something I don't quite get, myself. Different strokes.


I can read if nothing else. I've been re-reading the Wheel of Time series.

I read those, all of them except the last three, in one summer in high school. It may have been the happiest summer I'd ever had. I got up in the morning and repaired to one of the small little storage buildings we had in our yard and pretty much read all day, each day.

Those books are huge, I could read for over ten straight hours and not reach the end of one.




Bliss. Pure bliss.

Of course, I've only read through each one once, it's only now, six or seven years later, that I can make the second go-round. I'm up to book 8 out of 11, and I am content.

I need to get a job. Stop being so lazy.


Am I being lazy? It has yet to be a week since I finished with my finals. They were pretty bad. Through some sort of mental block I completely failed to realize I was taking seven classes (which is a lot for me, anyway) at once until finals weeks swung round.

Keeping up with work had been bad, but it didn't get intolerable until I spent literally 33.25 straight hours doing not sleeping or eating or showering but studying for tests, taking tests and writing philosophy/linguistics papers.


I was less of a human being by the end of that. I certainly smelled like an animal.



I don't think I'm actually being lazy at this point. I could be wrong. I start school again in about two weeks, and I should have a job by then.


I really don't think I am slacking off, I just feel so damn guilty all the time. I must start reading again.

It makes it go all away. When I get a job, that'll do a number on the guilt, and I can be less anxious.


Plus I can eat regular again. I can get by on a small meal a day for a little while, and I have 2 weeks worth of ramen on which I may survive.

Delicious.


I'm artificially constraining myself, I've enough money to eat more than once a day.

I've never gotten a student loan, if things get bad I think it would be better to take one out than to be hungry, yes?

The walls are not closing in. Always options. To be idealistic, I think that there are usually paths available to a reasonably intelligent youngster.



Especially for a leggy red-head such as myself.

Time to go flirt with some boys!