Fuuuucckk

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuuuuucckkk fuckkkkk.

I'm fuuuucckkkeedd (I know, funny haha because it's not physically possible...blah).

This is serious though.

Ok, so you know how in my last post I said I was going to avoid The Kid and his schemes? Well, that didn't last very long, meaning I saw him the next day and he said he had a good idea and he said ok? I don't know why I'm such a pushover, really. Anyway, the idea was to make me look like a guy (which isn't some master feat, by the way) and for me to 'hook up' with a girl who is under the impression that I am, in fact, a penis slinger. We went to the enviro house, aka hippieville, with a few close friends, dubbed 'supervisors' who turned out to be drunk instigators instead.

I'm sure I don't need to explain what kind of parties take place in hippieville, but just as a general idea, it involved gin and tonics being drunk out of turkey basters, minimal visibility, naked people, a lot of dancing, and lot of sweating, and a lot of tongue-tied students. (With each other, not tongue tied in the traditional sense. Far from it, actually.)

Needless to say, it wasn't long before I found myself in a similar situation, tongue-tied with a girl who (I think) is a junior who's name will be, for the purposes of this blog "The Girl." Original, I know. She came up to me while we were all dancing and drinking out of turkey basters and told me I looked like Justin Bieber, which I thought was an unusual thing to say for a liberal college student wearing a sarong and barely anything else, but I digress. Then she just dove right in, and to be honest, it was a lot nicer than the slobber-fest I had with "The Boy" (uuugghhhh, yuck), although still a little...slippery? Must have been the tonic. Or the gin.

Anywho, we spent a good chunk of the night together, making out and dancing and talking, and the whole time she thought I was a guy. She giggled while we were dancing at one point and said she was impressed that I didn't have a boner. I told her it was the gin. What the fuck? Like an idiot, I took the lies to a whole new level, so now the 'guy' who's number she has is also a black belt, has a pet falcon, and spends half of his time deep sea fishing off the Galapagos....

fuuuuuuuckckkkkckck

-Jamie

New Leaf

I return to you, my loyal readers, a newly energized and refreshed mind. A mind that, for a week straight, was fed reruns of How I Met Your Mother and The Walking Dead. How those two work to rejuvenate I can't say, although the constant spoon-feeding of delicious, home-cooked meals by my ever so paranoid mother for the duration of my TV regimen may have had something to do with it.

Now I'm back at school, and ready to turn over a new leaf. Or at least ready to try to motivate myself to do my homework so I don't get caught with my pants down amidst the clusterfuck of finals. Either way, I need to focus on my studies rather than letting myself be caught up in the fast life (alright, maybe partying in a dorm isn't THAT glamorous, but sometimes I do feel like Johnny Depp in Blow, minus the blow of course).

I haven't really spoken to The Kid since I've gotten back, and part of me wants to keep it that way. That guy brings a whole lot of trouble. Judging from the trauma his last plan caused me, any new ideas will make it two-fold. Not that I'm going to avoid the guy, but I just won't go out of my way to hang out with him until he reaches out to me. Right now, it's all about the studies. Oh and this blog, duh.

-Jamie

Midterm Murder

It's been a minute since my last post.

Apparently there is this thing called 'midterms' in college that was designed as a tool to destroy the lives of its respective students for two weeks, so that they may begin putting them together again afterwards in what is ideally a stronger, more organized fashion. It's like breaking bones in order to make them stronger, except unlike bones, the after-effect of midterms is very unpredictable. In my case, life did not come together in a stronger fashion. Instead, I've lost ten pounds of muscle and gained twenty in fat, my skin is a grotesque color combination of pale green and yellow, and I've all but lost the ability to eat anything that has less than 70 grams of sugar per serving.
That being said, it should come as no surprise that the 'experiment' that The Kid and I cooked up (let's be honest, The Kid cooked it up, and I'm just his pawn...) has been indefinitely set aside as our bodies and minds work to recover.

How I'm going to survive finals is yet to be determined.

To give you an idea of the impact of midterms, for the few of you who haven't experienced them, I've included this telling before-and-after...

First Sexual Experience

Had my first sexual experience last night. Granted, I was drunk, but to me it felt more like a study in the grosser aspects of human biology than anything. My suite decided to throw a mask party (in honor of Mardis Gras, I guess?), which provided the perfect setting for my first sexual encounter (The Kid's idea...).

We (mainly The Kid again, naturally) decided that I should start with a boy, because apparently with a girl, things get pretty complicated. He graciously offered himself up for the experiment, to which I responded "no thanks, can't involve the professor in the experiment, you know." We settled on one of our other acquaintences, someone who knew about me, but not one of our close friends.

Well, it went eerily well, much easier than we'd planned. Something about wearing masks as well as drinking excessively makes people...looser...than usual. The party was a rager, bordering on epic. Over a hundred people must've been in our suit over the course of the night. One of those people, let's call him Experiment #1, showed an interest in me from the second he walked in. I tried to figure out his sexual orientation to no success. Oh well, he knew my deal, so that's all that really matters.

ANYWAY, we were talking a bunch, were partners for most drinking games, all that stuff. At one point, we found ourselves standing alone in the hallway at one point ( I THINK we were waiting for the bathroom, not sure though...)  and he leaned in and landed one riiiggghhhton my mouth. He stayed there too, wasn't like one of mom's kisses for sure. I didn't really know how to react, so I kind of just waited while he wrapped it up. "You're so hot" he told me. I think I just smiled awkwardly at the very rare compliment. I've been called many things; "hot" is not one of them. The night gets a little blurry from there. We ended up in my room later on. I wasn't sure what happens once you enter "the room" but I didn't have much time to think about it since he pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me almost immediately. He started kissing me again, like REALLY kissing me, and I could barely stomach it. I mean, do people actually like being probed by someone else's tongue? I mean UUGGGHHHH it was gross.

I stuck it out though, The Kid's voice constantly in the back of my mind saying "but you haven't even TRIED anything yet!"I wondered when it would progress...I can't imagine kissing me was any better for him than it was for me. Unable to bear it any more, I jumped up at one point and got us a couple shots. After that, things got REALLY blurry. From what I recall, he started rubbing up against me for a while, then pulled down his pants. He asked me to rub it, which I did, more in awe at the thing and how every movement made him moan than anything. I had no way of knowing how it felt, but apparently it felt really, really good, which made me a little jealous. I don't know how long I was rubbing it when all of a sudden he got really loud and twitchy and then SPRAYED all over the bed. It was disgusting! I'm pretty sure at that point, between gags, I yelled at him to clean it up and rushed to the bathroom, where I proceeded to throw up. I'm still not sure if it's the alcohol or the nastiness that came out of him that caused it.

When I got back to the room, he was gone, which was a relief. I proceeded to pass the fuck out.

So there you have it. I think we can safely say I'm not interested in doing that again.

-Jamie

Shameful Americans

Alright, now I feel like I have it easy. Check out this article:

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/one-towns-war-on-gay-teens-20120202?link=mostpopular2

I just don't get it. I mean, how would I fit in to a place like Anoka, Minnesota? (I imagine it's pronounced as Anohkah, Minaysohtah - like Sarah Palin would say it. Not sure why seeing as she's from Alaskaah...)

How would the evangelicals react to me? I know I'd be bullied for sure, but what would they call me. The evangelicals would be so confused....might be kind of funny actually. There I am, walking down the hall...

"Hey, over here, you little...uh....little dyke!"
"Nah dude that's a guy! Hey! Faggot!"
"You sure? I'm pretty sure....oh who gives a shit....HOMO!"

There'd be chaos. Can't attribute a lack of sex to "a form of mental illness caused by family dysfunction, childhood trauma and exposure to pornography – a perversion curable through intensive therapy." 

But it's obvious I wouldn't be accepted by them either. Let's face it, my situation, the fact that I don't fit into either male or female category, and the implication that I would therefore have a choice of who to love....it would take a lot of explaining. So what do evangelical Christians do when things get too complicated? Reject and discriminate, obviously! My condolences go out to the victims' families. 

And to those kids dealing with the bullying on a daily basis, stay strong! One day you'll get out of that shithole and go to a liberal college and become the coolest kids on campus!! No, but seriously...

-Jamie

P.S. The Kid and I have hatched a plan for the discovery of my inaccessible (but not non-existent!) sexuality. Stay posted.

"The Kid"

Alright so I know it's been a minute since my last post, partially due to a cold and partially due to this strange thing called college. I've never had so much and so little free time at once, which is hard to explain, so here's my attempt:

Freedom + Schoolwork - Motivation + Time - Nutrition + Alcohol - Voice of Reason (Mom) + Social Life = College

That being said, I bet you're wondering what happened with "The Kid," as I will be referring to him from here-on out. Well, things have gotten complicated, to say the least. As it turns out, he is not only gay, but bisexual, an extremely experimental bisexual. We've been hanging out a lot lately, partly because he's good friends with my suitemate and partly because we actually get along really well. 

*Side note: Apparently the LGBTQ community knows how to throw a rager, because our suite has become a pretty big party spot on the weekends. It's like Animal House meets The Brady Bunch, plus good music. SO naturally, things can get a little... weird. 

Back to "The Kid." He's kind of given me a different perspective on this whole genderless thing. Even though I don't feel attracted to anybody doesn't mean I wouldn't necessarily like doing...stuff. You know, sexual stuff. Right? He believes I should try everything at least once, and maybe something will just click. I don't know.

Kind of getting excited though....

I'll definitely keep you posted.

Jamie

Party's Over

Things are looking up for me...finally! After my personal pity party (mom's words) last week, I decided to give myself a fresh start this weekend. I made a TO DO list after I called my mom and she told me, verbatim:

"So what you sprained your ankle? I gave birth to two children...TWO! Do you understand? I had my innards torn apart on two separate occasions. Having a grenade go off down there would have been more bearable than the pain you put me through! And then, do I get to have a pity party!? NO! Because my second child was in critical condition and had to have emergency surgery! Can you imagine how HORRIBLE THAT WAS?? It was all on me, not a rest for your torn, bleeding, exhausted mother. No...and from that day on I have to worry about you every second, hoping that your difference wouldn't isolate you. I worry myself sick over you so you're not allowed to! DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME COMPLAINING BECAUSE I WILL LOSE IT JAMIE! Now get off your high horse and make some friends damn it! I love you. Honey, I love you, so suck it up. And get that ankle checked."

Point made.

Here's the list:

1. Be grateful you were born without a vagina, because it would have been ruined later anyway (what a waste)
2. Go to the doctor
3. Socialize (with literally anybody)

And you know what? Great success!

I went to the doctor, who gave me boot, which in turn gifted me with an easy conversation starter with my suite-mates, who in turn decided to throw me a (real) pity party - just our suite and some friends, don't get too excited - which lead to my first time being DRUNK IN COLLEGE whoop!

...Which lead to me getting hit on... by a boy. At first I thought it was friendly conversation, but as it turns out it was my suite-mate's gay friend, and she came over to me later and told me that he "thought I was cute?" Which left me confused all over again. Worst part is, he's coming over TONIGHT to work on a project with my suite-mate, which leaves me wondering how I should let him know that he might as well be flirting with a dead dog seeing as I don't feel anything about anybody EVER...should be nice and awkward explaining this to him.

Wish me luck!
Jamie