Admittedly Sleazy

"Someday we'll look back on all this and plow into a parked car." -from Dilbert's Words of Wisdom

Well, my weekend was peaceful, just as I wanted. I spent it doing skeleton drawings (for homework- I know, sounds depressing, don't it? They came out good though) and recuperating from chaos. My parents didn't even bitch and scream! Hooray!

Saw my old home ec teacher- surprise there- she wanted my old boards from fashion design competitions to show the new breed- Mom and I wound up going off on our various problems for awhile until she had to throw us out- yes, we're blabbermouths! I told her about the bitches and how my other option for living is out with the rats, and she said she'd rather live with the rats. I said "You don't know how I freak out about live stuff in my room."

Came back here and was pleased to discover that nobody had written any crude shit on my door. Unfortunately Mom noticed that the poster was missing (god, she notices EVERYTHING . . . the whole drive back from picking up lunch it's "Did you notice?" "No, I notice NOTHING!") and now wants me to go after 'em. I didn't see the bimbos when I got home (they weren't there, yay!), although someone was nice enough to write on my door asking if the shoe under the desk was mine (I needed some shoes for Thanksgiving, lost that one). Slightly better, I guess I can hope.

After doing skeleton #2 HW I went online to check what had gone on in my absence re: dating situation. Matt/Dark PRiSM (we'll just leave it as Matt from now on, I think) hadn't e-mailed/been on the newsgroup over the weekend, but, well, Remington had e-mailed a couple of times (oops, sorry, not there) and been on the newsgroup- most memorable comment from that was the one regarding my saying that for all they know I'm a rancid troll, he said that his spy (Yamara- the one that did this site- I had Design 15 with her during the summer) had said that I wasn't a troll. I couldn't resist using the line, "Okay, just a normal troll then." For the record, I'm not a troll, don't think I'm a troll, but it was a good line, dammit!

I also have some pictures of him I got off one of Yamara's sites (actually, there's a web page for ucd.life if you wanna check it out). Since the first pic I'd seen of him (which I'll leave off here as it seems out of date) he was very hairy (hair about my length, beard, ick), I was quite astonished to find that he no longer looks Yeti-ish. His hair now reminds me of The Moron's do while living in Santa Barbara, actually. (Okay, I'll try to stop with the comparisons now)

Anyway, here's one of the e-mails I got from him and my responses to it (the other one had his phone #, which will not be reprinted):

Sorry this is so late, left this weekend.

Oh, my god! You said something that approximates to 'yes.' That's so cool. I totally expected you to run away, screaming.

No, that part comes afterwards. Actually, not a joke- remember my last date?)

So: I promised some people I'd be all ethical and tell you what you're in for... Basically, the chances of us having a Real, Meaningful, Relationship (TM) are vanishingly small, because I'm, well, not exactly boyfriend material. First off, I'm about a decade older than you (from what I hear). That in itself is, of course, not insurmountable. But secondly, I'm kind of going through a rather slutty phase; I already have two girlfriends, (who both know all about each other -- I'm at least honest). Of course, you could turn out to be the goddess I always dreamed of, and steal me away from all this.

But that's pretty unlikely, isn't it?

You got it!

I'm not exactly in the mood for that boyfriend crap myself right now, so not a biggie.

Anyway, I do think it would be neat to meet you, and have that cup o' coffee, because one can never have too many friends in this zany, turvy-topsy world.

Which brings us to the scheduling problem: On Wednesday, I am leaving town for Boston and Chicago,

Lucky.

and won't be back until just before Christmas. So that leaves tomorrow (after fourish) or any time monday or tuesday.

Have to be Mon. or Tues . . . I'm trying to think when . . . I've got class until 5:30 and a meeting at 7 Mon, so that's probably not the best. Tues. I'm free between 3 & 6.

Hoping to hear from you,

And sorry it's so late-
Jennifer

-Remington

1:00 update: Date scheduled 3:30 p.m. Tues.

11:30 update: I was in a good mood tonight. I was going to skip the social committee meeting if they had it (they didn't), as there is no point and my motivation for going turned out to be an a-hole. Well, they didn't have one I think, not like either of them wants to do it anyway.

Instead I went to a seele meeting, which was fun and goofy, and I was in a pretty good mood, came home, watched some TV, etc.

Decided to try to get into another science class instead of geology (which I wasn't thrilled with), and I got into science and technology studies (which sounds like the class I wanted originally)-works for me! Well, after that I kinda felt obligated to tell Mom that I'd switched classes (she always yapped on about how she wanted me to take geology and then tell her everything about it- which has never worked for any class, incidentally), so I called her. And in the tradition of all phone calls to Mother, I couldn't just tell her what I wanted to hear and then get off, noooo.

Sure enough, she got onto the topic of the bimbos again, saying that I should move out at Christmas and that if I don't get the poster back (or get them to pay for it), SHE'LL do it. Oh great. This from the woman who's spouting off to the home ec teacher yesterday about how the shrink said she should back off of me. Can you spell hypocrite, Mom?

Then a bunch of Greek people came over to give Megan a present. Well, whoop-te-fucking-doo, she's been screaming about it for forty-five minutes. They've all been in there screaming.

This isn't fair.

I need to take a shower, my hair is gross, then I want to go to bed, and yet I can't, because they've got a bunch of people in there and they're all screaming incoherently at the top of their lungs. I do not like being "afraid" (for lack of better word) to use the bathroom, because I don't want to put on a show for them (why, oh why, must they have constructed this open bathroom? Who wants to see that stuff going on?), because I don't want to see something they've done that will piss me off (unplugging my stuff and not putting it back, messing up the sink with god-knows-what, leaving their hairdryer plugs in the sink- oh, that's a REAL good idea), watching as they quickly shut the door whenever I go by.

I did not want to have to worry about getting the poster back. Mom is now saying that if I don't get the poster or the money for it back, SHE'LL do it. I did not want to see how they put up signs for themselves and the K's's rooms and not mine. I did not want to have to "stand up for myself" and "not let them push you around." I do not want to hear comments like "I'd rather live with rats," "Why do you put up with this?" and from my mom, "If you move out by Christmas, we can just take all your stuff out then and it would be sooo much easier, so you should ask right now." I am tired of all the people who haven't had people telling them they're crap since they were six telling me that I should suck it up and start a war.

I don't WANT to have to move out!!!!! I was here first!!! I have things the way I like them! I'd probably have to get a roommate again if I move out, I like having a single! No worries about who gets the room to study in, tying up the phone lines, what to do when a guy stays over, etc. If not for them everything would be okay. They don't fit in with the rest of "us" in personality, they should be moved out, not me. I do not want to move in with a suite of all freshmen (which is about what would be left by now). I should not have to be kicked out of my own place to keep my stuff intact.

This is not fair.

© 1997 jdrutherford@ucdavis.edu

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