"I dont know what he's thinking, but I would be so psyched if we just dated forever" -Kelly Kapoor (The Office U.S)
Alright, so I get the saying beggers can’t be choosers, but honestly, we don’t have to be losers either. We have the right to be slightly picky.
Now I’m about to delve into a situation of mine that recently occurred. And by recently, I’m hinting at this past weekend. And Oh, what a weekend it was!
See, my friend T and I had decided to take a break from this partying hard and always lifestyle we’d acquired since coming to university. We had decided on an all girls weekend, this includes: shopping, restaurants, nauseating chick-flick with the dumb as rock hunk we can drool over. Check, check and check.
However, things did not end up going as planned. At all.
It started out nicely, our trip to the mall was eventful enough. Four hours of eventful. However, the bus ride back I felt like I boarded Noah’s Arc (minus the male counterpart). It was packed and I’m pretty sure we tipped slightly during one of the turns. The smell of sweat mixed with the ever-so-unsubtle smell of alcohol. I happened to mention this out loud,
“Really people? On a bus? This is public transportation, not your in-between party short-stop”
The tiny elderly woman next to me, clinging to the pole for dear life, looked up to me and said,
“Yes, I know, but don’t worry, next time I’ll bring a bigger flask to share”
Oh the many other stories I have to share of my tales of trauma on public transportation. Never take a bus from Best Buy back to campus alone. Drunk men will nudge you and point to other women’s “big ol’ titties” as he so classily put it.
Anyways, enough with the rambling.
So we rented the movie It’s a Boy Girl Thing and popped it in. I changed out of any glamorous articles of clothing into a pair of shorts and sweater, with my hair piled on top of my head, resembling a much older Pebbles (from the Flintstones).
We thought it would be a good idea to invite over A, a foreign exchange student from Spain, who although adorable, he has definitely been placed in the “just friends” category.
Cute face for sure, just lacking confidence and too lanky. Take note boys, this will get you far and beyond.
A arrives drunk. Throws up on my blanket. Throws up in my bathroom. Throws up in T’s bathroom. The goes on to declare his crush on me by spelling out my name. No, don’t worry folks, he didn’t spell it out in his own piss, but a Spanish accent.
I laughed it off and helped drop him off home. Such a shame, because his friend M is quite the charmer, definitely no place for him in the “Just Friends” category if you know what I mean ;).
More later,
X
Sophie
"blahblahblahblahblah...."- C
Its not that I’m not happy she’s found this golden guy she cant stop talking about. Its just the fact that she won’t stop talking about it.
So C has been hooking up with this guy for around a month now and the relationship is definitely developing. I mean, he’s a real sweetheart to be honest, and she got lucky. But honey, please do not expand on the details of how he brushes his teeth in a circular motion, which is different than the upper teeth then lower teeth routine you use. (side note: do not rag on circular motion brushing)
I feel like every time we sit and talk there is no question like, “Hey Sophie, how’s that guy that you were checking out yesterday morning?” or “Oh wow, how was your get together with whatshisface?”
Yes, I understand, seeing as I do not have much of a love life, I probably won’t have much to say in that department.
However, that does not mean you can tirade on about how your boyfriend wakes up at 12:00 a.m and how your morning routine clashes.
I simply do not care.
Understand this ladies, when with male, do not harass other females with small, miniscule details about his appetite or toilet habits. Save that conversation for when we are all married, bored and have nothing else to talk about. Maybe we can compare even?
Until then, shut up.
The Huntress
P.S: oh the things I will rag about to her when I get a boyfriend. “Hey C, you’ll never believe what _________ did with his pencil yesterday…he ties his shoelaces with the whole bunny thing…he writes in cursive….he shaves every other day…he likes to pee while sitting on the toilet…”
About a month ago I was in the elevator of our building, on my
way down from the tip of the tower I like to call the 15th floor. I was relentless and tired and ready for at least an hour cramming food into my face in our downstairs dining hall. I let out a loud and obvious sigh when the elevator stopped to accommodate those on the 12th floor as well.
However in walks a tall lad with his friend also looking forward to a
fine dining experience downstairs.
I take a few peeks at tall guy throughout the journey to the 6th floor. Not too bad.
The elevator allows more people to join us we make our way downstairs. Tall guy cracks a clichéd, witty joke and turns to me for a reaction. I arch my eyebrow and give him a smug smile and then say, “Is that the best you can do?”. He smiles at me as we exit.
The next time I see him is on the elevator as well. Its late and he’s heading up with two cups of pink juice. He laughs with his friends and then turns to me and says, “my drink matches your shirt”
I nod and say cleverly, “Yes, it does”
He smiles and gets off at a floor a few below mine.
Twice now I have passed him on the way to class. Each time I see him, we share a small smirk. A bit of an inside joke between the two of us detailing our elevator adventures.
Its funny because I don’t even know his name,
The Huntress
PS: I just saw him over an hour ago. The smirk was still there.
George Clooney: classy, and ages like fine wine, with a smirk that defines sexy. I had to throw him in there, you understand.
Or as society calls it: grinding
G' Morning lovers,
Yes, as I’ve recently discovered, coming into America, their cultural dance of choice is the Grind.
What is this Grind?
Well, simple, really. It’s the process of the male coming up from behind a female during a tribal get-together. The male places his hands dominantly on the female’s hips and presses her hips with his, moving them together in sync. The male may try to run his hands to more secure territories, and it is up to the female of the tribe to accept or reject his offer of mating.
Alright, alright, I’ll end with all this Natural Geographic bullshit and get straight to the point.
I do not like grinding.
Why? Its sexy, steamy, and hot, and wild, blah blah blah
Yes, but its also a stranger who you’ve never spoken to, coming up behind where you cannot even tell if they are male and grabbing yours hips, almost thrusting their pelvises on to your anus.
On few occasions, the sweeter ones will ask before slightly molesting you with their hips and hands.
Since when did sex with your clothes on become the new thing? When did creativity and the slight tease of an intimate dance get thrown out the window and replaced by almost-sexual intercourse?
All of a sudden I’m supposed to smile and say ‘oh she’s a good dancer’ when I see a girl who’s leg has been wrapped around a guy’s waist, tackling him to the wall with her love handles?
I wish I can dry hump like that. Oh yeah.
for kicks, I'm throwing in this lovely picture I googled of Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise doing the Grind.
Let me make clear that this is the older and less 'aggressive' version of the dance. However, I must include that the tagline for this photo was: "Having a 'Grind' old time"
Anyways,
The reason this rant is going into my boyfriend hunt journal is because, honestly, what kind of mate are you promised by accepting this ritual, tedious dance? Probably one that won’t stay past 8:00 a.m.
Realize that drunken faux-sex dance will not lead to happily ever after.
Till whenever,
The Huntress
The Boyfriend Hunt
"Love is vines, thorns, and entanglement" -anonymous
Very frustrated at the moment with the world of males. Or at least my current lack of them. University is crawling with STD-carrying, eye-wandering, post pubescent penises that are ready to take action. Which is why I love it so much.
These said penises are on the hunt for:
wild, fast, crazy, missionary, legs in the air, blow jobs, passionate, condoms, nameless,
horny, hairless, breasts, threesomes, drunken, mornings after, the pill.
Sex.
However, thats not what I need. Or want.
I am on a completely different journey with a whole other goal:
stability, affection, tenderness, laughs, smiles, dinners, open doors, kisses, butterflies
candles, comfy, movie marathon, cuddle, embrace, carry bags, text message
familiar scent, holding hands, dance partner, jacket for the cold.
Boyfriend.
Welcome to University. Nearly five millions frats. With nearly five billion frat boys. And if they don’t quench your thirst, well no fear, since they only make up about 20% of the 20,000 male population at Uni.
So how, you may ask, do I remain boyfriend-less? Simple:
The boys that come here with their own set of raging hormones that they are ready to release on the world arrive with expectations.
Hooking up.
See, the high school definition of hooking up is making out, getting felt up by, rushing to third base with…fellow boy.
However, college brings a whole new dictionary to light. Hooking up therefore becomes the ritual one-night stand that may or may not turn into the rarely seen few-night stands.
Since none of these terms seem to set much fire to my interest, I therefore begin my
Boyfriend Hunt
Out of these 20,000 penises available on campus, I have narrowed my list down to potentials that I want to be with, (with the occasional being there only for potential hook-ups).
This List includes but May not be limited to:
11 1. Asshole Guy
2. Tall Guy
3. Horny Guy
4. Spanish
5. Penn Bagdley (not the real one but a definite look-a-like that will have to do for now)
5. Curly
6. Barney look-a-like
5. Jeff
6. Josh
Neighbor Guy
Now you must understand that this is all going under careful consideration. And after reviewing this pathetic list of contenders, I have realized that only the first two (Asshole & Tall guy) seem to actually make any sort of list when it comes to narrowing down. However, Horny did come awfully close until he proved to be very, well, horny.
Unfortunetly for me, the reason Asshole Guy earned this nickname is because of the unrequited crush I seem to have on him that he does not bother to return. Oh if only he knew all the fantasies I've had of him and I...
actually, maybe it would be better to keep those thoughts closeted until further progress is made.
The problem with Tall Guy? Well, it seems that another friend may share interest in his height as well as his well-sculpted body and slightly dorky (yet hilarious) outlook on life. My friend D and I laugh about our common interest and both claim to be uncompetitive about it. And I'm not. Unless she gets ahead that is.
I know, I know. I've heard the cliched term, hoes before bros countless times before. However, it just hasn't seem to hit me quite yet. Maybe when I begin to realize what value her friendship has.
...or maybe when I begin to lose interest in Tall Guy. We'll see.
Until then, I am pathetically sitting inside typing away furiously at my computer as I realize that my heart beats faster even when Asshole Guy comes down to the dining hall in his pjs, a raggy shirt and his reading glasses.
Oh how it makes me swoon.
When will he wake up and realize that bliss lies under his very nose?
When will I pluck the courage to make my feelings obvious to him? (If I already haven't by acting the way I do)
Tune in next time darling
The Huntress
|
