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Being in public, family-oriented places -- like malls -- is bad enough as it is. But when you get caught in the line of vision of a 14-year-old pre-slut who just started her period, like, two months ago and still isn't used it it, it makes you wonder why you ever left your college campus in the first place. You know the kind of girls I mean. They're named Taylor and they're always with about fifty other friends whenever they go places, and when you walk by them they just stare at you. Teenage girls love staring at women who are 20 or over. They also love throwing up in school, blotting oil from their T-zones, buying tiny little purses, and organizing social mutinies for no particular reason against friends whom they've known since Kindergarten, and going to second base with boys in movie theatres which is disgusting. All those things are tolerable, though, except the staring. It's like, hey Taylor, Madison, Ashley, Ashlee, Jenni, Ashley, Jessica, Jackie? Why are you so angry? Do I remind you of your prettier older sister? Do you think my nose is big and if so, does that insult you on a personal level? Or is today your first day ever wearing a thong? Whatever it is, go see your school counselor. You're bound to get something out of it, if only a prescription to Ritalin. But if you keep this behavior up, I'll make school a living hell for you. A living. Hell.
I've been there. You're on the T, cute guy, cute smile, and then BAM off he goes to buy the new Animal Collective at Newbury Comics. I ask myself, "what if he was the love of my life?" So, we scour and search, hoping he posted a missed connection only to find that the only people who use that god-forsaken site are girls. (I mean, i've done but for real the amount of W4M is CRAZYYYY, reign it in ladies.) But, the kicker of it all is: What happens AFTER the response? See, that's what I don't understand. How is it comfortable to respond to a post that probably isn't even about you anyway. With a title as vague as "GIRL WITH RED COAT GREENLINE SOMETIME THIS WEEKEND," how am I supposed to know that this man is clearly in love with ME couldn't stop thinking about MY red jacket (understandable, it's so awesome but STILL). Do I respond only to (and this is great too) 'describe myself' and then have it not be me? Or, something I think is worse, what if they just flat out don't READ the site? Waste all my energy under this blanket of false hope and disguise just to have it kicked in the face by someone who dares to imagine that someone doesn't fall in LOVE with them every day? Grab some self esteem, check the site, and move on mang.
Why, even though we can FEEL A CONNECTION with someone (supposedly) can we not just walk up to them and say so?
Is "Did you drop this receipt from Tedeschi's?" so hard to use to start a conversation?
I'm confused, just like everyone who reads these vague love letters.
Like this kid I'm staring at who is wearing the hood of his American Apparel sweatshirt and it's all casually pulled back a few inches before his hairline. And we're inside. It's not attractive. Why do it?
These people, not unlike those behind the "Yo, Berry!" Frozen Yogurt booth at Super 88, are using hoods all wrong.
Daria, you know what I mean. I'm here. Plugged in.
And it is fucking RANK.
YOU'D THINK that for a bunch of technologically advanced gadgetmonsters, they'd have gotten a doorstop by now. But no. Here the trashcan is, here I am, and there to my right is all sorts of discarded GSU fare commingling under my nose. To think, I get paid 8 bucks an hour to watch the mung beans wilt from an unwanted Loose Leaf salad...
I always have problems, EVERY DAY. But, truth be told, my shoes are usually omitted from the "potential problem" box in my brain. I admit, i'll wear shoes that I know will be uncomfortable only for fashion's sake. BUT SERIOUSLY, my biggest pet peeve IN THE WORLD is the fact that perfectly good shoes get ruined by WALKING. Not in the rain, not in the snow, PERFECTLY GOOD weather, RUINS SHOES.
Three weeks ago, I bought some black flats from Urban Outfitters (I KNOW OKAY!?!?! They are cheap, I know.) I wore them outside, in the perfectly good weather, three times. That's once a week, for those who cannot divide. And today, I go to put them on, and they feel weird. Why, you ask, do they feel weird? BECAUSE THE FUCKIN' STREETS OF BOSTON RUINED THEM. ONE TINY LITTLE HOLE RUINED MY WHOLE DAY.
SERIOUSLY?!
NOTHING FEELS GOOD.
