June 27, 2010 § 2 Comments
Last night, I got so hopeless, so devastated by the humankind (especially those with who I have to co-exist in this city) that the only, the most entertaining and ego-boosting act I could possibly do was sit in front of my computer at wee hours of the morning, enjoy a glass of wine and sign on Chatroulette.
As a lover of the internet, and a writer of the bullshit, I have to do this. This is called researching. I am simply researching all of this for you, so you don’t have to make time on your precious schedules for these activities. And I find Chatroulette a most inspiring and wonderful website I ever visited (Other than jacksonpollock.com check that out it is AWESOME).
What cheers my sad face when I get on CR is all the dicks I see. Because, I feel a bit better at my own sexual frustration and become pleased with myself that I don’t have to advertise my ladyparts like THAT. Ladyparts are a lot more difficult to portray. A dick, on the other hand, is simply a dick.
I develop excellent friendships with people that I videochat with on CR and it’s such a free, non-judgement and diverse community. I am also appreciated there, which is truly fascinating because the approach that I get in my current surrounding is total failure.
Which brings me to my intended topic of, the male approach.
I am not saying that I am one of the attractive types out there, but I am loveable, I know that. People know that. I see them staring. So what is it, that makes me someone to look at but not someone to ask out? A girl I met last night who lived in London for a bit said that she got really frustrated about the whole “I can approach you at a bar and that’s okay” attitude the foreigners had. Truth be told, I had gotten frustrated with the spoks of men hurdling towards my lady crowd and trying to grind and move with my booty. And it’s refreshingly awesome that this disaster doesn’t happen here. Yet, she also complained about not meeting proper male friends in this country also. What is wrong with this picture?
So, over the internet and over the counter flirtations happen. But those that happen during a real face-to-face interaction with a person you’ve just met and gotten strangely attracted to? No sir. Those games require rules. They require pampering and grooming. They require spending half your night making eyes, just to get whiff of their scent or maybe if you’re lucky you’ll accidentally bump into each other. Having JUST watched “He’s just not that into you” (a horrible play at making women and men everywhere MISERABLE OUT OF THEIR MINDS) I understand the standards and the other necessary things for this, you WILL be approached if you’re likable. In that case, then, where I stand, in this country, is between the limits of unattractiveness and guys with no balls.
Oh, and here is another reason why this country is ABSOLUTELY HOPELESS AT LIFE;
I popped by Ben & Jerry’s for some Sunday snacking. I couldn’t decide between two flavors. So I asked the dude what he thought. And he said, shrugging, I am not a fan of ice-cream.
Well, then, I said, fair enough.
But you see, once you start employing salespeople at places that are unrelated to them, you lose the whole point of this happiness game.
See, again, people are disappointing me, again, the world sucks, and I have to play along.
At least I’ve got Ben & Jerry. They never fail me.