Monday, March 31, 2003

One winter night last year, my friend J. was talking to me about his roommates, and how their socialization styles varied wildly. "Roommate One goes to bed at like 10 every night so he gets his 11 hours," said J., "Two is always with his girlfriend, and Three never comes home on the weekend until 5:30 in the morning." I know for a fact Three is what we'd call a player. Why? Eh, the grapevine. He plays a lot. We've played together (until way later than 5:30 in the morning, thank you very much). But this does not make me a player too. According to his buddies, it makes me a lot of things, but it certainly does not make me a player.

So what makes Three a player, a title that conveys a certain amount of respect, and perhaps awe, while I (or any girl who hooks up more than rarely) cannot attain that status? I think it's a combination of things. For one, lay-biology holds that women are supposed to be motherly and nurturing by nature, looking for that special someone to be a father for their child. We're supposed to be the ninnies who worry about things like love and commitment. We're the ones who apparently mistake sexual attention for genuine emotional affection. I'm no biology major, but I think, (ladies you'll agree) that the special feeling you get when you see a fine male specimen at a fraternity's after hours is not your body telling you that you want a long lasting emotional commitment. It's your body's way of telling you, "Ooh yeah, I want that one!"

Nonetheless, guys are players, girls are sluts. Can you think of a male equivalent of slut? Or a female equivalent of player? Sure, you can cross label people, for example, call someone a "male slut" (ya catch how I had to specify that the slut was male?), but somehow, it doesn't quite ring true. When I tell people why I reject the label "slut," I always have to qualify it: "I'm a party girl, sure. But I'm picky, and I have respect for myself. And I'm not expecting any sort of commitment." I don't pretend that the person with whom I hook up is going to be saying to his buddies the next morning, "Oh yeah, that Kate. What a great personality. She's really cool. I'm so glad I got the opportunity to spend the night with such a great person." If I hook up with someone, I'm just in it for the night.

Do I think there is such a thing as a slut? Yes. When I think of a slut, I think of someone who needs sex to make themselves feel better about who they are, and I feel sorry for them. Sluts are people who don't care what the package looks like, as long as they get to unwrap it. A slut to me is someone who needs to somehow downplay what they've done (you know, the girl half a frat has seen naked, but who still titters "I don't usually do this" as her bra is unhooked for the 3,407th time). A slut thinks she has to be pretend friends with every guy she's hooked up with. This to me is silly. Why be nice? Be friendly if you want to past hookups, but honey, they're not talking to you because of your great personality, so don't fool yourself. And if you're maintaining good relations in hopes of future, uh, business, trust me, they'll come back if they dig your style.

This brings me to what my boy had to say when I whined to him about the double standard that prevents women from achieving player status. He says, "you have to give guys more props than girls when it comes to 'playing,' because for guys it requires some level of, I guess, talent to get a girl into bed. The guy has to employ some kind of salesmanship to seal the deal whereas a girl just has to be attractive and say, 'Hey, you.' If she wants to get laid she needs only to show up and sit back and let him do all the work. If he wants to get laid he has to have the looks then prove his worth through his wit. See, girls get to deal with horny idiots. A girl on a scam is like door-to-door elevator shoe salesman in munchkin land -- it's hardly a challenge." Now, my boy is, I'd say, pretty average in his representation of male thought, and this is also a sentiment echoed by many of my guy friends. As my friend S. said, "Did a guy say hello to you today? Then you were offered sex."

Basically, I guess it all comes down to that: it's no challenge to bed your average guy, so why should the ladies get any respect for doing so? Granted, there are those of us who choose not to participate in this scene, and that's fine. Congrats for not choosing the path of least resistance. But for those of us who do, why should we suffer? If we're being safe and respecting our bodies, why are we labeled sluts and ho's? Can we help it if guys are easy? Let the women play too!


Friday, March 28, 2003

what should i do? a) take classes next spring, walk in graduation, then take the last 2 or 3 classes i have in the summer orrrrr b) take classes next spring, go back to fort wayne like i'm supposed to and finish my coop, then go back to EL fall 2004 and take a super-light semester and graduate in december. i'm leeeeeeaning towards... well i wont tell you. i want your advice. i just enrolled for next spring, it feels to weird to be thinking that far in advance... well maybe its not that, but maybe its weird to be thinking its going to be my 2nd to last semester, or my last REAL semester at michigan state. how the time flies by, its sick. anyway, drop me a line if you read my blog on friday the 28th before 5 pm, i'll be here at work... tangerine-erine-erine... i want a tangerine.

Monday, March 24, 2003

ok, and this is why war is not totally in vain... although i don't know if bush administration reads this and goes 'yah, lets' go get em!' sports illustrated/cnn article

Wednesday, March 19, 2003

fuck! this is why i hate war:
In his four-minute announcement from the Oval Office, Bush said the military campaign, supported by 35 nations, would make efforts to spare Iraqi civilians. But he made it clear the U.S. military planned to use its full might in the war.
it's like "well, we will try our hardest not to kill the innocent, but you know, it's a small country and we gotta blast the hell out of it to make sure we get 'em all" okay, so maybe we're not blasting the whole country out of the desert, but i still didn't like that comment.
i was tutoring delquan today, and he's a very aware 10 year old... he started talking about the war against afghanistan (no, i didn't correct him) and stuff. i didn't know what was appropriate to say to him, because, you know, he's 10. so i asked him if they talked about the war in school or anything, and he said no. this led me to believe his parents have the t.v. on and/or talk to him about it... so he or i brought up george dubbya, i dont remember who it was... and delquan goes "he's just another man, in another suit." i was just amazed that came out of a 10-year-old's mouth.
well that's all for tonight. buenos noches.
and i believe that's now the fourth time i've turned onto a one-way street, the wrong way. ouch.

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

why so "god bless america"? whats wrong with blessing the world??

Monday, March 17, 2003

it was warm today. now it is cold. brrrrr.

Sunday, March 16, 2003

whenever i write a blog, i read it after i post, ya know, just to see how it sounds. after reading this one, i think i've decided to start reading them BEFORE i post, cuz i sure as hell sound like a dumbass in this last one. that is all.
you know what i hate? hmmm, how do i say this... ok it used to annoy me when i was out with my mom or dad, and they would run into someone they knew, a neighbor or friend or something, and they would talk about me while i was standing right there, an awkward, sightly being just wasting air. (we all had an ugly phase, don't try and pretend like you didn't.) hmm, now that doesnt quite connect with what i'm trying to say, but kinda. it's like, hi, dad, why are you telling mrs. brown about my violin recital while i'm in clear, obvious earshot. not like i was a bad kid and they were talking about why i was in juvie this time, but ya know. principle. bah. whatever. i gave up pop for lent, not that i am a practicing catholic at all or anything. lent for me is basically a diet. always around my birthday (when my new years resolutions expire) and right as spring is about to start, perfect time to diet. and fuck, do i need it. blah. i went running though yesterday. no, i did not just go running, i woke up at 8:30 in the morning and went running. who does that? oh yeah, motivated, athletic, fit people. but certainly not me. but, i did! can you believe it. shit, i was proud of myself for being up before 11. also partook (partaked??!!) in the obligatory spring cleaning, but certainly am not finished. DID do my car, however, which was waaaaay overdue. now, i wont' be embarassed if i have to drive people anywhere. i'm always the person who, when it comes to be lunch time, says "alright (insert name here), you wanna drive?" or just keep my mouth shut until someone offers. that, and i drive a saturn. hell, even I don't fit in the back-seat of a saturn. 'nough said. today i sat out on my cute little patio (and by cute, i mean ugly concrete with twenty or so dried up worms, which looked like something you would find on an asian salad or something) and re-beaded my necklace and read my book. the sun was just awesome, and whatever vitamin or whatever the suns lets you absorb, i got my daily intake time ten. felt good indeed. that's it for now. i seem to be more interested in other people's lives at the moment to consider having one of my own. not a bad thing at all really. i'll write more later, should something merit a blog.

Friday, March 14, 2003

sometimes i write letters to myself. well, not quite to myself, but for myself. they are to people, but i never ever actually give them to the person. hence, they are for myself. POINT of my story, i wrote one of these letters a couple of months ago, i wrote it at work actually. it's folded up and sitting in my paper-organizer thingy. you know, looks like 5 magazine holders glued together, made of metal? its got all these papers in it, and then at the very far left, a little folded rectangle of lined paper with some silly words from what seems like a lonnnnng time ago. it's things like that, that make me laugh. more so than other people, i laugh at myself.

Friday, March 7, 2003

ohhhh i forgot to post about my indian friend i drive to work, that will have to wait til later.
i am half done with my coop session. craaazy. i havent updated in a while, so i will try to recap: my parents went to florida last week, those lucky ducks. but i didnt' complain when they came home and said "we bought a time share" no i did not complain one bit. you know what that means? christmas in cancun. heeellllls yeah. christmas in cancun was the original idea, though, and i think it's being changed to thanksgiving in cancun, but still. vacation! haven't been on one of those since senior spring break. oh wait, if you dont count the 6 week vacation in europe this summer. : P oh shit, i sound like a brat. onward. so last saturday we had a coop party (when i say we, i really mean some guys threw the party and i attended...) don made hurricanes with like 3 shots in each one. i showed up late (10pm=late in FW) and had a hurricane to catch up. needless-to-say i was tipsy once i finished my hurricane. i ran into someone i knew there who kinda made me feel awkward, so i had another drink and by then was drunk. we ended up playing flip cups, (hello, now full fledged drunk). my friend graciously walked me home, all the while maintaining my composure. it was funny, he was drunk too, so he came in to use my bathroom, and the whole time he's in there, i'm like thinking to myself "hurry the fuck up, take a piss and leave so i can throw up." yeah, it was one of those nights. i had a lot of fun though, i got to know some of the coops better. geez, i would hate to read this blog, all i talk about is coops or work, but you dont understand (or you may, i like to just say that for effect) that's all i do. anyway. i havent felt good since last weekend, but i'm not sick. i wish i would've either gotten sick for a few days, or just felt like fine ya know. like right now, my head aches, but only dully. (dull-ly) not that i want a full fledge headache, but i'd trade one for 7 days of dull headache. whaaaat am i taaaalking about. it's 4:22 on a friday afternoon, that's what i'm talking about. spring couldn't wait any longer to get here, could it? i'm also having issues about classes and graduation and stuff. decisions decisions. the only decision i really feel like making is what kind of topping i want on my TCBY yogurt, and really, i wish i could just have them all and not decide on any one. yes, i'll have a small cup, with 1 tablespoon of chocolate yogurt, and 1 tablespoon of every single topping you own. thank you very much.

Wednesday, March 5, 2003

my last blog was one week ago, and i havent really had anything to say between now and then. i am feeling really disconnected here in fort wayne, so i think anything i would write would seem stupid. some funny things did happen though, but i would feel like a ... brat (?) writing about them. ah, maybe tomorrow. i am sensing a boring day at work tomorrow. wednesdays are always so great, that thursdays get a bad rap by default of following wednesdays. hmm. feeling bored and trite, and very tired. i wont want to wake up in the morning, i will feel so good and warm and comfy in my bed, i can just tell. but alas, i still retreat to the nest that is the pillows and blankets of my bed. buenos noches.