Angry Little Children

There are days when you wake up and all is well with the world again. The sun is shining. There isn't a cloud in sight. The humidity is low. There are no crazy drivers. Your boss is actually quite pleasant. All the noise in the world suddenly becomes music. There are days like this.

Then there are the days when you wake up in bad position and have a kink in your neck. You're favorite T-Shirt has a pizza stain on it and no matter how high and low you search you can't find the other half to your pair of shoes. Old women drive twenty in a forty mile zone and men drive eighty five in a thirty mile zone. Your boss adds on to your already obese work load. And all the beautiful music outside suddenly becomes nails on a chalk board. Oh, and there was no warning. Momma said there would be days like this, but notice how she only SAID there would be. She never said how to get through them.

I've managed to become heated towards everything that crossed my path today. In addition to waking up with a stiff neck, there was an excessive amount of people who needed to cross the street this morning. Why don't they take buses? No good ever came from a little exercise on the way to work. Then there was the asshole on 410 West who insisted that the middle lane belonged to him and solely him and managed to cut off every person who got in his way. I am certain that he wasn't on his way to work. Certain that the free donut at Krispy Creme had something to do with it. Once again food ruins my life.

My boss sent me out to do research for some marketing campaign he's doing now--that I did not mind. What I do mind is the asshole who is sitting behind me at the library. I am almost certain he is smelling my hair since I just started using this new shampoo. It smells terrific. But am almost on the verge of telling him to fuck off and get some shampoo of his own.

It's everything. It's my best friend who has become clueless and turns to me for help when I am in desperate need for some myself. And when i can't help her, it's my fault. She then manages to ignore me the next few days because I can't fix her fucking life. It's everything. It's my brother who has become an overbearing, free-loading, narcissistic, arrogant, greedy motherfucker. My therapist insists that I bring him to therapy with me because she believes I am making him up. "No," I assured her, "he is not too good to be true."

It's not having the time to do anything. Not being able to go out and enjoy myself when I want to is becoming very upsetting. My life is work and school. It has been for sometime. As a result of it I have become very bitchy, very whiny, and very, very, lifeless. My scholarship was forty thousand dollars. I am nearly twenty thousand short. Twenty thousand that I have to apply myself towards. Don't get me wrong. I am eternally grateful for my scholarship. Still, the twenty thousand, while it is nothing compared to forty...its twenty thousand dollars I don't have. It makes me feel incapable. Is it impossible to raise twenty thousand dollars? Well, that's not the question. It's not the right one at least. How long do I have to raise the money? Right there. There is my dilemma.

I've always felt that time and all his friends were actually always on my side. Mind you, I never took advantage of time. Still, now that I need it the most, now that I need it to be plentiful I find it rather annoying that it does in fact weigh. It hangs. Time can stand so still yet there is so little of it. It isn't tricky. It isn't selective. It supply and demand. Time, in the end, becomes a political question.

No Sex in the City

In the beginning there was love. As pure and evangelic as a ray of light. In the beginning it was not a laughable matter. Not to say that it is today, but it was different back then. Men actually courted women. Women actually held back. Men were actually interested in more than your ASSets. Then again, they weren't as progressive as we were. They were taught on family values. The majority of generation X was raised on individual values. "Be your own person." Where did it all go...?

Today love is often found before, during, or after sex...on birthday's...Christmas (if the gift is decent.) Now, truth be told, people who live by that theory are still getting love five more times than I, but still....when did it stop being so serious?

I remember going on a date with a guy in high school...ugh, Mark. We had only been about fifteen minutes into the date when he tried humping my leg...I suppose I can see this from two standpoints. One, he was just horny. Hell, we were fifteen. What did I expect? Two, I was looking really good and he couldn't just help himself. Considering how I looked in high school, I'm going to go with number one. Again, when it did stop being so serious?

HOWEVER. Was it ever really serious?

From what I know about most kids from my generation is that sex is almost a must on the first date. Now, dates have always been considered to be like interviews, an all inclusive questionnaire. Then later, after he's paid for dinner and a movie and popcorn and candy...the physical part of the interview comes into play. If you suck then there will be no second date. Great. As if there isn't enough pressure for first dates anyway.

My entire diatribe comes from inexperience. Once I have sex I might just delete this entry and rewrite one entitled "Lesson Learned..." But still. There has to be more than this. There has to be a bigger and better reason why people do this day in and day out. This "something" has to go beyond great expectations and desperation and...hope. It has to be more than faith that THE ONE is out there. There has to be a bigger picture.

Perhaps, just maybe, "the bigger picture" is why we do it....