Usually, I welcome a good molestation (in theory of course) from a guy that I'm interested in. Today was a different story. I replied to this note I got from my allmsu personals ad today. This guy named Matt seemed like a nice guy, interesting, liked the sort of movies I liked, etc etc etc. We got to talking on AIM and he seemed like a cool person... slightly flirty (but he assured me that he only made advances on the flirtations if the girl made the first move....yeah, right) but that's just fine by me, seeing as I can be kind of flirty too. So, he asks if I'd like to come over and watch a movie. Fine by me. I take a shower and head next door, seeing as he's just in the next dorm over. I get there and things are cool, we start watching Snatch, one of my favorite movies, and everything was just fine. We'd talk a little, laugh at the movie. Good stuff. His roomie and the roomie's girlfriend came in then (and the more I think about it, the more it makes sense that he didn't do anything right there .. cause the roomie was there) and we stayed for a while, but then Matt said he had to go to Shaw to meet his friends to play Euchre. Fine, I head for the door but he offers to walk me back, seeing as it's on the way and all. We walk through to my side of the building and get to the set of doors he needs to go out, and so I start on my schpeil about how it was fun hanging out with him, blah blah blah. He mentions, then that he has some time to kill, so I offer him the chance to come up and watch tv or something.
We get to my room and I purposely leave the door opened...just in case... and so we're talking, and he starts rubbing my shoulders and arms. Not a big deal, really, so I keep talking and trying to get him to talk back to me. Finally, he gets up and shuts and locks the door. I mention that Tamara will probably be home, and that he should leave it unlocked, she might not have her keys. No dice, he leaves it locked and sits back down, now groping completely at my legs, boobies and ass. "So what are we going to do with my time?" He asks...and all I could think was how to kill half an hour, bludgeoning him in th ehead. That doesn't fly with me, especially on the first meeting. SO.. I tell him to stop.
That doesn't work. He says (like in one of those bad movie rape scenes) " I can tell you want it".. Right, because that's why I said No, right? ..asshole. I try to get him to talk to me some more and distract him, but no dice there either. Finally I tell him that he's got to go, I've got to finish my presentation. He doesn't want to hear that either. Now, this is normally the point I'd have just decked the guy but he's 6 foot 2 or so and kind of, well, bigger than me, so I'm afraid to clock him in the face, and I have nowhere to run if he takes exception. Then, god throws me a bone.
Tamara's at the door, trying to unlock it. I fairly scream "Tamara... hi...!" She looked a little puzzled as to why I was on the couch with a boy, and why I was so excited to see her but she'd unfortunately just come in to beg change from me for the meter. I gave her what I had, but couldn't convince her to stay and help me oust the great molester.
As soon as she's gone, he shuts the door again and commences groping me, saying "We've got five more minutes 'till she's back." Finally, I push him off of me -with some effort..and I'm not a weakling- and tell him he needs to go...
But he continues to try and put the moves on me. This is where I start to panic. I run through the bathroom to Keesha's room (yay for sharing bathrooms!) and scream as I run through her room and down the hall "call the cops!"
I make it to Kyle's room and pound on the door. He answers in his boxers, poor man.
Things get rectified from there. If you want details, let me know.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Sunday, February 16, 2003
Well...
Well, I hope everyone's Valentine's day (and weekend) went well. There's nothing much I can say for mine, except that it was all right until today (Ie: Sunday). Friday was spent with Rae and Mel and we had fun, but I passed out early, being that I was terribly tired for no apparent reason. Just the same, we had a good time. Saturday was spent here, at the dorms doing nothing particularly special except doing homework and the like.
Today, though was something I'll remember for the rest of my life. Valentine's day will never be the same for me and though I'm not happy about it right now (to say the least) I think I'll be better for it. Dan came today, as planned.. and I knew something was wrong as soon as he came in. After a while of trying to get him to spill it, we had a long conversation (me crying the entire while) about how our relationship was going and .. well, decided that it should go back down to "Friendship." As shitty as that sounds, I'm glad we got some issues out into the open and I'm kind of okay with being alone for a little while, but as you who know me, know I'm a completely social person... and being that he was part of me for so long (4 1/2 years), it's just not going to be the same to have someone to dote over. The thing that really bothered me about it, I guess, was that he kept telling me to go out and see if there was someone better for me than him. I know, it sounds weird...and I couldn't help but think that maybe he'd found someone else. That's the only conclusion I could really come up with... I mean, I understand that he wants me to date and to make sure that he's right for me, but why say something that specific? Why "find someone better for you than me?" I guess I'm terribly terrified of being alone, and seeing as I'm only 20, being with a guy for 4 years is a very long time. I just keep thinking that really, there's no one I'd rather be with. I know I'm rather inexperienced about this sort of thing, and I know that no one reads this journal 'cept the people who already know what's going on with me, and how I am.. but I'm enlisting you all for a little bit of counseling. I know I've been part of Jess&Dan for a long time now, and now that I'm on my own, I'll be lonely and crying for a while... I just need some hugs, some understanding and most of all, some support. Those of you who've been dumped before know all too well that the first thing you think is, "What's wrong with me? What did I do, and how can I change to get him/her back?"...Well, Dan and I discussed that as well, but I'm still wondering... did I spend too much time on him or not enough? Did I give too much, or not enough... did I gain too much weight? Am I unattractive and more importantly, how on earth am I ever going to get another guy, let alone get him back if I have so many questions about myself.
Just a thought, though.. no need to respond en masse. . . Right, like you would. Also, Jason, you're an absolute sweetheart and I love you, even though you are my stinky little brother ::Smirk:: For those of you who missed his note, here goes...
Look Jess.... take it from me. I have been through alot of relationships... and i know what you are going throught since Melissa and i broke up i haven't been able to sleep as much, or look at my friends the same. but i know that she did deserve better then me... it isn't you that has done anything wrong. Guys ( being one myself) are idiots sometimes when it comes to things like this. i know that if i was in his shoes that i would stay with you. i mean it isn't everyday where someone can get along with someone for that long of a time.. and still love eachother. most couples dont last throught high school.. but somehow you both pulled throught... now for such a long time i measured myself up to your relationship... and yet i know.. that if i ever was able to work up the balls to ask laura out... or mel for that matter ( not our mel) that i would yet again messure it up to you... and what you did in that relationship to stay together as long as you guys did. i dont want you to be stuck in your dorm room crying over this... i know that you are.. and that i am powerless to stop you. but as much as i hate to say that he may not be the right one for you, he might not... but yet he might still... and i want you to relize that even thought he isn't your boyfriend anymore... he will always be your friend ifyou let him... and with being a friend... atleast in my opinion.. is someone that will always be there for you in times of need... like when you are crying, or need a ride somewhere. and i know that i am just ur little brother and you think that i am just writing you this for the sake of that but i am not... i am writing this as more. i am writing this as i was your friend, one that you have been around for the longest of times and one that you have trusted for the longest of times as well.... and i hope that you will take that into consideration as you read this... and correct all of my spelling errors *smerks*. but anyways.. all that this mesage is supose to say is that i will always be here for you, and that i would miss you soo much if i wasn't able to see my sister.... or have my sister leading the life that she has let me see for so long in my life... i hope that you never change... and that these roads in life will just make you stronger as you push throught them with the help of all of your friends and family. as you know... love always, Jason
Today, though was something I'll remember for the rest of my life. Valentine's day will never be the same for me and though I'm not happy about it right now (to say the least) I think I'll be better for it. Dan came today, as planned.. and I knew something was wrong as soon as he came in. After a while of trying to get him to spill it, we had a long conversation (me crying the entire while) about how our relationship was going and .. well, decided that it should go back down to "Friendship." As shitty as that sounds, I'm glad we got some issues out into the open and I'm kind of okay with being alone for a little while, but as you who know me, know I'm a completely social person... and being that he was part of me for so long (4 1/2 years), it's just not going to be the same to have someone to dote over. The thing that really bothered me about it, I guess, was that he kept telling me to go out and see if there was someone better for me than him. I know, it sounds weird...and I couldn't help but think that maybe he'd found someone else. That's the only conclusion I could really come up with... I mean, I understand that he wants me to date and to make sure that he's right for me, but why say something that specific? Why "find someone better for you than me?" I guess I'm terribly terrified of being alone, and seeing as I'm only 20, being with a guy for 4 years is a very long time. I just keep thinking that really, there's no one I'd rather be with. I know I'm rather inexperienced about this sort of thing, and I know that no one reads this journal 'cept the people who already know what's going on with me, and how I am.. but I'm enlisting you all for a little bit of counseling. I know I've been part of Jess&Dan for a long time now, and now that I'm on my own, I'll be lonely and crying for a while... I just need some hugs, some understanding and most of all, some support. Those of you who've been dumped before know all too well that the first thing you think is, "What's wrong with me? What did I do, and how can I change to get him/her back?"...Well, Dan and I discussed that as well, but I'm still wondering... did I spend too much time on him or not enough? Did I give too much, or not enough... did I gain too much weight? Am I unattractive and more importantly, how on earth am I ever going to get another guy, let alone get him back if I have so many questions about myself.
Just a thought, though.. no need to respond en masse. . . Right, like you would. Also, Jason, you're an absolute sweetheart and I love you, even though you are my stinky little brother ::Smirk:: For those of you who missed his note, here goes...
Look Jess.... take it from me. I have been through alot of relationships... and i know what you are going throught since Melissa and i broke up i haven't been able to sleep as much, or look at my friends the same. but i know that she did deserve better then me... it isn't you that has done anything wrong. Guys ( being one myself) are idiots sometimes when it comes to things like this. i know that if i was in his shoes that i would stay with you. i mean it isn't everyday where someone can get along with someone for that long of a time.. and still love eachother. most couples dont last throught high school.. but somehow you both pulled throught... now for such a long time i measured myself up to your relationship... and yet i know.. that if i ever was able to work up the balls to ask laura out... or mel for that matter ( not our mel) that i would yet again messure it up to you... and what you did in that relationship to stay together as long as you guys did. i dont want you to be stuck in your dorm room crying over this... i know that you are.. and that i am powerless to stop you. but as much as i hate to say that he may not be the right one for you, he might not... but yet he might still... and i want you to relize that even thought he isn't your boyfriend anymore... he will always be your friend ifyou let him... and with being a friend... atleast in my opinion.. is someone that will always be there for you in times of need... like when you are crying, or need a ride somewhere. and i know that i am just ur little brother and you think that i am just writing you this for the sake of that but i am not... i am writing this as more. i am writing this as i was your friend, one that you have been around for the longest of times and one that you have trusted for the longest of times as well.... and i hope that you will take that into consideration as you read this... and correct all of my spelling errors *smerks*. but anyways.. all that this mesage is supose to say is that i will always be here for you, and that i would miss you soo much if i wasn't able to see my sister.... or have my sister leading the life that she has let me see for so long in my life... i hope that you never change... and that these roads in life will just make you stronger as you push throught them with the help of all of your friends and family. as you know... love always, Jason
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
Brushes with Death
All right, you lot. As few of you that read this (trying to keep in touch and whatnot), I suppose I could give you a little tidbit. Just a warning, though. Seeing as I've already written out this post once and the server decided it didn't like me, it won't be nearly as detailed as I'd like it to be. My patience is waning, dear readers, and though I'm feeling much better I'm still not up to 100% which I'm sure all of you know would mean a tres interestant post... tough shit.
So, on to the title. My brushes with death (three since the last post) have been chronologically arranged for you here below .. .for interest or blind boredom, they're yours to revel in and live through vicariously. You're welcome.
Firstly, for those of you who aren't familiar with my muy aggressive mommy, let me just outline a few things. I grew up in a home where mommy definitely wore the pants. Rule number one; always ask daddy for the things you want. Rule number two; if you're the daughter of a karate teacher, you inherit the paranoia of a woman whose heard horror stories of women being attacked on campus at night. This being the case, mommy had me enrolled in karate classes early in life. . . I didn't get very far comparatively -one belt down from black- but let's just say I know how to take care of myself. I was walking home from my class that ends at 8:50, across campus and being that I'm my mother's child, I notice the surroundings, and the very distinctly male footfalls just behind me. He followed me for a good ten minutes or so and I kept telling myself that should he touch me, my key would end up in his eye as quick as I could manage it. Well, apparently my fight or flight instinct somehow got mangled and ended up somewhere in between. As soon as I felt a hand on my shoulder, my dorm key (the largest and most lethal-feeling I could fumble for) was buried in the parting of his coat there in the front and firmly implanted into his stomach. Lucky for him he had a little padding to take the brunt of my 'fight.' While grabbing his stomach with one hand and sheilding from another attack with the other he managed to tell me he thought I was one of his friends... silly man. He said that should I have been her, I'd have screamed and offered my purse. Seeing as I don't carry a purse -and have vowed never to do so- I obviously was not the alleged friend and had left him with a bit of a wound. Serves him right. All in all, I was rather glad to wound...er...educate him in the matters of 'stalking' women down the streets of a nighttime campus.
Next on the list would start with a simple cold. . . and the blowing of my nose. Let that be a lesson to you, kiddies. Blow your nose and you'll end up with a motherfucking ear infection. NEVER BLOW YOUR NOSE. That said, it was a week into my ear not unplugging when the pain started. As reluctant as I was to go to the Olin Death (health) Center, I decided to make the trek and save myself some pain later on. After all, that's what doctors are for, am I right? So I get in to the man's examining room and he asks me what's wrong.... well isn't that his fucking job? To know what the hell's wrong with me? So I tell him I have an ear infection and for some reason the first place he looks is right up my motherfucking nose. Now, yes I know the sinuses are connected to nigh on EVERYTHING in your head but being that I'm already disliking being in the damnedable place, shoving that little light up my fucking nose was not the best of ideas. So the brilliant fucking doctor comes up with an hypothesis that I have an ear infection. Absolute genuis.... Needless to say he gave me medications and despite some rather dodgy goobies -of the Army fatigue color- coming from my ears, things are going well.
Last but perhaps most disturbing, today in Anthropology class we were discussing FGM(Female Genital Mutilation... not one of my favorite topics) and the Anthropological ethics question of cultural relativsm vs. human rights. I'm sitting in the very back row, snickering to myself as some idiotic girl is babbling on about how men like the(certified anthropologist) one who wrote the article in our book shouldn't have any say in the matter seeing as he had no clue about what it was like. Now, for some reason I get the morbid curiosity to see what this creature looks like. I glance up from my doodling on my notes and go so absolutely white (yes I'm white anyway, fuck off) that the girl next to me asks me if I'm ok.
Who was it you ask? None other than Satan herself, my ex roommate, the infamous....Jewel McJennettFuck me with a goddamned redwood... she's in my motherfucking anthropology class.
Not only that, but she makes eye contact with me as she's babbling into the microphone and smiles, almost-waves but of course I dodge behind the person in front of me for cover and time to think. Jesus Tapdancing Christ! What the hell was I supposed to do? Well, being that my fight or flight was firmly intact today, I tucked tail and ran from that room when the professor released us faster than a bulimic with the shits.
So, on to the title. My brushes with death (three since the last post) have been chronologically arranged for you here below .. .for interest or blind boredom, they're yours to revel in and live through vicariously. You're welcome.
Firstly, for those of you who aren't familiar with my muy aggressive mommy, let me just outline a few things. I grew up in a home where mommy definitely wore the pants. Rule number one; always ask daddy for the things you want. Rule number two; if you're the daughter of a karate teacher, you inherit the paranoia of a woman whose heard horror stories of women being attacked on campus at night. This being the case, mommy had me enrolled in karate classes early in life. . . I didn't get very far comparatively -one belt down from black- but let's just say I know how to take care of myself. I was walking home from my class that ends at 8:50, across campus and being that I'm my mother's child, I notice the surroundings, and the very distinctly male footfalls just behind me. He followed me for a good ten minutes or so and I kept telling myself that should he touch me, my key would end up in his eye as quick as I could manage it. Well, apparently my fight or flight instinct somehow got mangled and ended up somewhere in between. As soon as I felt a hand on my shoulder, my dorm key (the largest and most lethal-feeling I could fumble for) was buried in the parting of his coat there in the front and firmly implanted into his stomach. Lucky for him he had a little padding to take the brunt of my 'fight.' While grabbing his stomach with one hand and sheilding from another attack with the other he managed to tell me he thought I was one of his friends... silly man. He said that should I have been her, I'd have screamed and offered my purse. Seeing as I don't carry a purse -and have vowed never to do so- I obviously was not the alleged friend and had left him with a bit of a wound. Serves him right. All in all, I was rather glad to wound...er...educate him in the matters of 'stalking' women down the streets of a nighttime campus.
Next on the list would start with a simple cold. . . and the blowing of my nose. Let that be a lesson to you, kiddies. Blow your nose and you'll end up with a motherfucking ear infection. NEVER BLOW YOUR NOSE. That said, it was a week into my ear not unplugging when the pain started. As reluctant as I was to go to the Olin Death (health) Center, I decided to make the trek and save myself some pain later on. After all, that's what doctors are for, am I right? So I get in to the man's examining room and he asks me what's wrong.... well isn't that his fucking job? To know what the hell's wrong with me? So I tell him I have an ear infection and for some reason the first place he looks is right up my motherfucking nose. Now, yes I know the sinuses are connected to nigh on EVERYTHING in your head but being that I'm already disliking being in the damnedable place, shoving that little light up my fucking nose was not the best of ideas. So the brilliant fucking doctor comes up with an hypothesis that I have an ear infection. Absolute genuis.... Needless to say he gave me medications and despite some rather dodgy goobies -of the Army fatigue color- coming from my ears, things are going well.
Last but perhaps most disturbing, today in Anthropology class we were discussing FGM(Female Genital Mutilation... not one of my favorite topics) and the Anthropological ethics question of cultural relativsm vs. human rights. I'm sitting in the very back row, snickering to myself as some idiotic girl is babbling on about how men like the(certified anthropologist) one who wrote the article in our book shouldn't have any say in the matter seeing as he had no clue about what it was like. Now, for some reason I get the morbid curiosity to see what this creature looks like. I glance up from my doodling on my notes and go so absolutely white (yes I'm white anyway, fuck off) that the girl next to me asks me if I'm ok.
Who was it you ask? None other than Satan herself, my ex roommate, the infamous....Jewel McJennettFuck me with a goddamned redwood... she's in my motherfucking anthropology class.
Not only that, but she makes eye contact with me as she's babbling into the microphone and smiles, almost-waves but of course I dodge behind the person in front of me for cover and time to think. Jesus Tapdancing Christ! What the hell was I supposed to do? Well, being that my fight or flight was firmly intact today, I tucked tail and ran from that room when the professor released us faster than a bulimic with the shits.
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