I Couldn't Sleep At All Last Night

My Soap-Operatic Life

"Dawn: The time when men of reason go to bed." Ambrose Bierce

I was tired when I went to bed at 1 (I was trying to taper it down a bit). But then instead of trying to make my mind a perfect blank and go to sleep, I kept thinking about stuff . . . daydreaming that The Moron and I would get back together (even though I'll be skiing in hell before that happens, probably). It's difficult to go to bed when you're thinking how you're mad at a person and how it's all over . . . slightly easier to when you concoct happy fiction. Only the happy fiction kept me up and awake. At 2 am I got fed up, got up, ate, drank, surfed the Web (hey, nothin' else to do), and here I am. I have decided, "To hell with it, I'm staying up all night!"

And speaking of my favorite subject and impossible hopefulness, here's a little situation that happened tonight:
I was watching "Star Trek: Voyager" (a show I rarely get to see) when I heard the phone ringing. Now in my place, my phone is closest to the living room (where I was), and the other phones are in the back, and sound quieter. Actually, Lisa and Elena both brought phones up here, so you get this echo effect when they get calls. Anyway, I thought the phone was for me, because it was so loud. But I thought, "Dammit, I want to watch this show . . . let 'em take a message!" The phone rang three times during the show (which never happens to me- I basically get called by two people on a regular basis- Demma and my mom), and by the third ring I started thinking, "Well, that was Demma . . . that was Mom . . . who else could it be?" And I then thought of The Moron, even though I know he couldn't have checked his e-mail yet. I thought, "Oooh, goody, he called me! But good thing I didn't answer the phone, because I wouldn't have known what to say!" Crap like that, basically. And I was also happy that I'd get to hear his voice on the voice mail. I loved it when he called and left a message at home- I wouldn't erase messages for like two weeks and keep replaying the tape to hear him until there'd be six messages on the tape and my mom forced me to delete them. When I'm home now I still get excited when I hear the machine beep, even though realistically I know it's not him. (It's kind of pathetic how I'm so desperate for the guy I'm happy to get a message, isn't it?) I was thinking, "Now that I have the phone all to myself, I can replay it over and over again!" I figured I'd check the messages after the show. So I check them during a commercial, all excited . . . I got no messages at all! Waaaah! I hate unreasonable hopelessness!

Also while trying to sleep, I was thinking that tomorrow (first day back at school after his spring break) would be the first possible day he could check messages. Not saying that he would, it's just possible since he checks them at school. Here's some possible options I came up with of what's likely to happen when and if The Moron gets the message- I don't know if all of these or true or even likely, apparently I don't know him as well as I thought I did- anger changes my perceptions:

1. The Moron sees it, is a complete asshole, chooses to ignore it. When he's out of school (end of May) and I still haven't received a response, I get all upset and then have to admit that he has turned into a complete prick.
2. The Moron sees it and decides to respond, sending his response to my parents' house, where it will take them like a week to check the e-mail and send it to me- by then who knows:
Alternately, if The Moron develops a brain cell, realizes that's a different e-mail than I've used to send him things before, finds my address here and sends it to me. Which to be honest, would be nerveracking.
The one time he did send me an e-mail (another embarrassing revelation) I started jumping up and down and didn't read it for five minutes. This time I'll be putting it off and my stomach will be jumping up and down.

3. The Moron sees it and decides to respond, only he calls me (for the first time since fall!). Now this one is to me the scariest of them all. No time to rehearse responses like I did on the original e-mail, you know? Not to mention having to stifle any bad reactions that I may have. I think I'd like it better if I wasn't here when he called and I had to deal with the voice mail. Gives me some time to get calm before calling back.
In a way here, I feel like by sending him something that I have no idea when he'll check it is kinda leaving me with an axe above my head that could fall at any moment. It could be tomorrow (yeah right), it could be weeks from now, I could be going about my life, casually answer the phone, and oh my god. I know I need to get some response/closure here . . . but I'm almost wishing I had used the phone, even though I know he's never goddamn home.

And as for the actual response . . . the big question here is, what will he say? Damned if I know.
I figure it'll be another dump speech, only maybe even worse than the last one. Even though I can't figure out his behavior like I used to, I really doubt he'll not contact me or tell me that he never wants to hear from me again. If he won't say that to his ex that he thinks is a bitch (she calls him to whine every time she's dumped, then ignores him when she gets a new man- screwy chick, IMO) he sure isn't going to say that to me. I kinda threw in that line to annoy or shock him- try to get some sort of rise out of him- or make him realize a little of how I feel without a full frightening vent. Occasionally I've said things to him that his reaction has been something like, "How can you ask that question? Of course (fill in topic)!" Like after our second breakup when we were on our last date and that platonic thing had gone out the window (I promise I'll fill in what I mean here sometime) and I finally got up the nerve to ask him if we could still date. I had been thinking that he'd say no, but (maybe it was the timing) he said, "Yes, of course!" Or when I wasn't feeling too sure of myself in September and I asked him if he wanted me to call him whenever I was in town. That time I got a definite impression of "how can you ask that question? Duh!!!" Of course, we all know how both of those ended, so . . . bad sign, I guess.

To go back to what I was saying, I figure I'll get the usual "I'm sorry, I've just been busy," followed by litany of events that would normally have made me feel sorry for him and now just annoy me. Then he'll probably start going on about how during the summer he'll either be in Missouri (visiting Dad) for a month, or that he's trying to work at some camp again . . . something that would make him unavailable for the entire summer anyway- followed by the "I don't have time speech," followed by the dump speech.

You know, I hope he e-mails instead of calling, because I'm really tired of having to listen to all of that shit. Plus I'd like the satisfaction of being able to print the e-mail and then ripping it into many little pieces and jumping on them.

Well, I think I'll finish this for now and add on after I've gone to my classes tomorrow (although I may have to start another entry, this one's gone on so long). No, I'm not going to bed- I'm going to add more pictures to my other entries. Which reminds me- I still can't find any graphics for a broken heart or some small wedding pictures. Where do you find those???

5:45 p.m. I didn't think my life could get any more frightening. But it did. I'll get to that in a bit- first I've got to go through my classes:

English:

Well, the professor isn't the type to set the world on fire. But at least she likes 20th century poetry, which is what I like, and not the ancient stuff- apparently that's what all the other teachers are doing, including the guy whose class I was originally in. And the extra credit is cool. And no papers are due until May. And she let us go an hour early! I went to Taco Bell and ran into Pool Boy already there. Unfortunately, the tables at TB are too damn small (he was there with another guy) for me to join them. Oh well. On another tack, I know a few people in the class, including one of the workshop gang.

Solar System discussion:

The TA for this class is wacky. She got the wrong list for our class, so when she called roll practically no one answered. So then she'd say stuff like, "You want to be Julia for the day? Anyone?" Then she told us that if we turned in our papers early she'd grade easier, because she's getting married in New Hampshire at the beginning of July and wants out of Davis ASAP. She started going on about all the wedding stuff . . . a goofy chick, I like her.
Another funny incident (this time funny means odd)- on the class list she had there were four guys with the same first name as The Moron. I had heard him say that his name was getting popular. . . didn't know he was reaching the realms of Jennifer-popular though. I thought, "Oh, I've got to tell him this-" then I remembered that I can't.

French:

I had wanted my old French teacher again . . . didn't get him. Instead I got Renee. Now I've heard a lot of stories about how she's really mean . . . but she was perfectly nice the one time I'd talked to her before, and she was perfectly nice today. I hope that doesn't change.

Solar System lecture:

Again Moondude was goofy, announcing that we were all ensigns in Starfleet Academy, and did a mini-review of the Star Trek slide show from the last class. As for the actual educational stuff . . . he's very good. Of course it helps that he already types up our notes for us and we just draw/write on them. And he told a lot of stories about meteorites hitting various things/people.

Psychology:

Weird way to do a class- it's taught in four sections by four grad students, with four tests, none cumulative. In a huge room. And you get extra credit if you take part in the "experiments" the department does . . . uh-huh. The subject matter seemed to be all the kind of psych stuff I'd heard before- but as you'll see below, I wasn't really in a condition to pay attention to the class.

Have you ever done something that is so completely unlike you, to the point that you think that aliens must have taken over your body for a few minutes, and that can and will get you into trouble later on, guaranteed?

Well, guess what.

Here's what happened: Before psych class (had an hour break) I had been sitting outside the Silo doing homework and downing a Slurpee. About twenty minutes before class was to start I had to go to the bathroom. When I got out, I got interrupted by a couple of guys selling magazines to win a trip to Acapulco. I bought two (although I have the excuse that one of them is for my major and the other is a present for Mom- but on the other hand, that's the quickest I ever spent $50! Yikes!).

So you're thinking, "Hey, that's not so bad, so you went a little broke." Wrong, oh wrong, oh wrong.

You see, the head guy selling the magazines (I'll call him "Magazine Man"- look for him on the Relationships page soon) was a real fast talker. A schmoozer. A schmoozer who developed a thing for me in like two seconds.

The frightening part? A 26-year-old schmoozer with a thing for me. And I'm 19. Oh my god. Picture bringing an old guy home to meet the folks and you'll get the picture.

I'll get back to what happened in a minute, but first I'll explain the panic. You see, guys' age is kind of a sore point for me. I can't seem to find an age that will work out.

Younger guys (18 and down) I feel like a cradle robber. Now, most of the guys in my grade are younger than me, so it's hard to find someone my age and grade. The guys in my grade are immature idiots, plus I feel this irrational sense of guilt like I'm corrupting them or something.
Guys my age (19-20) are my preferred age. At least we're closer to being on the same level, even if guys are still more immature than girls. The only guy I've found to date that's my age so far is The Moron . . . and look how that came out. But I felt comfortable dating him, in a way that I haven't with other people. No guilt or fear factors.
Older guys (21+), let's face it, tend to frighten me. Well, 21-22 doesn't so much, but older than that really does. I feel awkward being the cradle-robbed, for one thing. And for another, being around older guys tends to make me feel and act immature.
But here's the thing: Every time I agree to see an older guy I start to hear my mom's voice in my head, quoting Oprah or my grandmother or the Morals Fairy or somebody. And she's saying, "You know what those older boys are after, don't you? Only one thing!" I get completely scared. I start thinking, "What if he's going to rape me/kill me/throw me dead in a ditch?" Sexually, I'm not comfortable in the way I am with the younger generations. That's probably why! The guy today asked me my age, and when I said it he said something like, "Hey, you're legal!" At the time I thought it was more of a congratulatory thing and not a "hey, it's not statutory!" thing. And he'd be setting a record for oldest guy I ever dated.

So here's what happened (yes, I've been putting it off . . .). The guy started complimenting me a lot, saying at first that this was a casual flirting thing. Okay, I go with it . . . but as the conversation is going on it goes from "Are you a good kisser?" to "Wanna marry me? I'll buy you a house! I'll take you shopping! You can model! (whispers in my ear "Victoria's Secret")" Now I know this sounds naive of me (I've only been reaching too far up the dating pool since I got to college), but I thought this was all jokes and whatnot (I get less amorous but similar comments from my parents' stranger guy friends and my guy relatives all the time. See, toldya my family was weird.).

But at the end he wanted to hug me goodbye. Fine . . . apparently he was really liking it though . . . then he wanted a kiss. And before you know it, me, the chick who doesn't kiss on the first date (although to be honest, by the end of almost all my first dates I've either been thinking, "I wanna go home" or "Get outta my house.")- well, I somehow wound up kissing the guy when I'm not particularly interested. Trouble. And since he now has my address and phone#, I really do think he'll call. (Well, he said that a lot- but I still think so.)

I can just picture this . . .2-3 dates later he'll be wanting a VS strip show, and I'll be having to say "I may model 'em, but they're not comin' off!"

I am feeling quite scared- whether it's irrational or not- and I'm thinking of leaving the Internet on all night so I won't hear any calls.

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Page last updated: April 6, 1998.
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