Tuesday, March 25, 2008


I am a student, first and foremost...simply because I pay quite handsomely and it is a priority. Other than that, I am a fairly level-headed lady, even if I am guilty of having a single-tracked mind. By that, I mean that I am focused on what I want, and even though I want many things (a new car, to pay off all my debts, lose weight, get an internship, etc), I have learned to compartmentalize in order of priority.

For example, if I have a test, I will forgo the gym and just study. If I am almost done with a book, I will leave my homework for the next hour to finish the amazing novel. I have my priorities and nothing I sacrifice ever bothers me because no matter what I do, I know that it had to be done. For instance, if I had to ditch a class to write a paper, then I will not beat myself up about it.

However, I am bothered by one thing in my life.

All of my romantic encounters have been from a third party source. That is to say, any emotions I feel over the opposite sex is triggered by a novel, magazine article, picture I stumbled upon on Google, or definition. In my art class, my professor relayed a story about one of his earlier teaching years when he taught English. Apparently, he had his class read a Tennyson play about a woman who was forced to take care of her ailing mother and fell in love with her neighbor-cum-doctor. She realizes that he did not return her affections and ran off with a traveling salesman. He told us this story because he was shocked that one of the girls from his class told the dean of that college about this "horrible play". Turns out, it struck too close to home for her and she resented it.

It is my impression he was mocking her.

One term he said today to describe the girl from the play was that "she had never received sweet nothings in her ear, or any male attention."

I was walking back to my room, feeling sorry for myself for being in the same boat as both girls when I realized my situation. I'm not saying that I live in a continual state of ignorance to the fact I have never in my life had any prospects for dating, or have even received signs of interest concerning my person from the opposite sex. I just don't focus on it because I know if I do, I will depress myself. After all, out of sight out of mind, right?

The reason I am writing this post is because I resent my romantic-less situation. I was pondering my professor's statement when I realized that I don't even know what a sweet nothing would be! The distressing part of that was my immediate thought: "I'll look it up on Google."

How is it that my life is so pathetic and void of romantic/sexual/interactive-with-the-opposite-sex-on-things-not-pertaining-to-academia experience that the only way I know what the lingo is, like I mentioned already, by third-party means? I resent that I am almost 21 years old and I have never had a man whisper sweet nothings into my ear, have had my hand held, been regarded with affection, sparked interest in someone's eye, or have even been lusted after.

I cannot hold it against every member of the opposite sex because I do not blame them for passing me by. For God's sake, I live in the plastic surgery capital of America...maybe the world, and if an attractive man can get with an attractive woman, I understand. I am also shallow. But I see plenty of ugly women around who have a man. I see girls who are half my age who lament being single for more than a week.

At the same time, I am ecstatic that I am not dependent on a man for my happiness because I am completely capable of taking care of myself. I just want a man to take an interest in my life because I am interesting, not because he thinks chatting me up at work will get him a better review, or because he feels compelled to smile back at me when I say hello.

Damn it, I am an interesting, fun, compelling, smart, and funny lady! I hate that the only people who recognize that are my friends and my mom.

Like I already said, I do not focus on this issue of my life because I know if I do, I will just depress myself beyond anything. It is the most emotional issue in my life and you would know how intense that is if you could see me now. Even my mom doesn't know how to handle me on the rare occasion that I cry.

I think the part that upsets me most in the voice in my head that can now add to its ridiculous repertoire of laments the line: "There aren't even any traveling salesmen who can sweep me away."

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