Conversations With Mom

QV: can you believe im almost 30?
Mom: not really. youre still a kid to me
QV: i'm still a kid to ME. you got yourself a peter pan in me
Mom: right hahahahaha
QV: every single astrology both western and chinese say independent, loner, etc etc
Mom: cant have kids that way
QV: your fault. shoulda had me in 76 in april or something
Mom: oh well, no grandkids for me
QV: oh stop it. maybe if you said nice things about boys everyone once in a while....
Mom: i like D how about that
QV: ha! little late for that. why didnt you encourage me in highschool?
Mom: i did. you said one of your friends liked him and you would not get in the way blah blah blah. always a goody two shoes

Apparently I was born a goody two shoes. My mother had 12 marriage proposals and had broken 12 hearts by the time she met and married my father (at 20).

8 Seconds

I went out with some family friends yesterday who I haven't seen in a long while. As I was late, they had all gone around filling each other in on their lives by the time I arrived. I was expected to spill the moment I sat down. My favorite question was first.

"So are you seeing anyone?"

"Ummm, no."

Long, pregnant pause during which all eyes were on me. Can we say AWKWARD? I couldn't figure out what to say next and apparently no one else could either. Granted it was probably only about 8 seconds, but 8 seconds of complete silence during any conversation let alone that one is kind of weird.

I know I'm making too much of it, but it was just odd that it happened when it did (ie, after the first question asked) rather than ten minutes into the conversation when a lull would be normal. Like that was the only thing they were really interested in knowing about me.

HAhhahaha! So ridiculous.

I need to come up with a follow up response...keep the conversation moving. Perhaps, "and I've never had sex," would work?

"To Do Or Not To Do"

"Or Online Dating And Why I'm Still Not Sure How I Feel About It. Aside From Scared. Because It Still Involves Human Interaction At Some Point."

Tap tap tap tap...I don't know. I'm not even sure how to begin. Ultimately I know whatever I say will make me look foolish, but pretty much every entry in this blog does that so I guess I shouldn't be worried about this one.

Here's the thing...if I'm outrageously picky in the real world, imagine what I'd be like in cyber space? A couple of my friends are proponents of online dating and have encouraged me in the past to sign up. One said at the very least it'll help my ego. I've scanned a few of them but the whole thing just makes me nervous. You know the whole distrust issue I harbor? It flares up a little when dealing with anonymous online spaces where the potential for people to lie outweighs their self-control, or at the very least misrepresent themselves based on what they'd like to be rather than what they are. (I know I know, everyone does this sometimes. I realize not everyone is out to take advantage of other people...but some of them are. Sometimes I think maybe I'm just nervous I'm one of the ones who, despite all my suspicions, is still naive enough in some ways to be taken.)

But theoretically speaking, let's say I'm able to get past that and find someone's entry that I believe is honest and straightforward. We start emailing, I get to like him (as he presents himself in writing- because I know that if say, someone like Fred :) met me in person he'd be surprised at how different I am...or rather, how much easier it is to read me, than listen to me stutter through my nervousness), we decide to meet, I feel zero chemistry and have to either give him the 'let's just be friends' or stop communication altogether. (Putting the horse before the cart much? Obviously the reverse is possible too, but I'd rather just assume not so I can hide behind it. How's that for honest?) It would just make me feel worse than if I had met him through a friend and didn't do the emailing because we would have already gotten to know each other. God writing that out loud makes me realize how utterly ridiculous it is...and yet, can't rid myself of it.

Or perhaps I'm making excuses because I want things to happen naturally. And yet, can't make myself do anything to get that ball rolling either.

How can you stand someone who won't help herself out?

Why are you still reading this?

Maybe one of these days I'll grow a set and at least sign up, see what happens. At the very least it'll give me something else to talk about (along with a potential ego boost?) Why is it that I can take risks with my life, but I can't take any in it?

Jump off a cliff? Done it. Swim in dangerous waters? Done it. Step in front of a speeding bus? Done it. Quit my career track? Done it. Go out on a date? eeeeeeeeee! Scary!

I'm Done

Ok that is it. That is IT. I've had it. I'm done with my subconscious. I'm done with my consciousness. I am so over myself it's not even funny. When do I get to look back and laugh already?

Here's the latest offering from the depths of my horribly unfunny mind:

First of all, I'm in this strange house where every room is dedicated to some kind of sex play. Um...I don't even know how that's possible considering the breadth of my exposure.

Second of all, I'm half naked in one of these rooms with a guy (who I of course don't know and of course can't remember his face) who is also half naked.

Good start to a dream if one is to be had, no?

So we're making out, great, great, great...suddenly he rolls over and turns on the TV. Are you ready for this? It's wrestling. Incredibly this doesn't deter me. I throw myself across him and say, "You know, this isn't really turning me on."

He says, "Yeah, me either," and continues to watch.

Again, incredibly, I still try apparently thinking the direct approach has a chance in hell of working.

"I really want to have sex with you."

He sighs. He actually sighs and says, "Oh ok" like I'm putting him out.

He gets up to turn out the light and I wake up. Unfulfilled. Again.

Seriously? Someone just put me out of my misery.

Queen Vee Fugue (Reprise)

"Won't you help me rise up,
Touch my face and watch me try to breathe again
Would you let me do this,
Burn down the final wall
Overcome me, baby...
All I'm asking is to be alive
For once"
-Vienna Teng

This song almost brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it. I wonder if she felt the same self-inflicted loneliness I feel sometimes...the way I interpret it to be from these lyrics anyway. Granted no two people can feel the exact same kind of pain, or any emotion really, but I guess it's that exact relativity that keeps us connected. We just need to know there are others out there experiencing something similar. At least I do. Perhaps in some odd, irrational way it makes me feel less alone.

I kept a journal of sorts in college which I occasionally still wrote in until I started this blog. I was not very disciplined and wrote in it only when I was feeling overwhelmed, usually with negative emotions. In re-reading some if it, I can't believe how poorly I thought of myself and also how quickly I forgot those moments that seem to have helped shaped my psyche. Remembering how I acted then you would never have thought I was such an anguished young adult...anyone who has known me since then remembers me as happy go lucky, with the exception of the handful of close friends I opened up to at one point or another. I suppose I showed more of my dark side the older I got, but even then most people would still remember me as having a smile on my face. At any rate I have definitely grown since filling those pages with self-hatred and pity, but one theme seems to have remained to this day...my insecurities about relationships, sex and men. Surprise.

If you'll permit me the pretension of actually quoting my 21 year old self:

"...I know that I am aching to love someone and scared to death I won't let myself. I know what others tell me. I'm inclined to ignore or at least disbelieve. I waver too much. I have no loyalty to myself..."

(That first thought could have been said by me yesterday. [With the addendum of not letting anyone love me either.] In fact, I've probably written it in this blog 30 times.) Before everything went down with Jean, that last statement summed up my existence perfectly. Little did I know when I wrote those words how long I had and would let that dormant loyalty lie. I learned the concept of self-preservation after I finally forgave myself for letting her destroy me.

I was always so hard on myself both in terms of school work, which later turned into finding a way to start a career and personally, in terms of how I related to my friends, my family, the opposite sex and lastly my own expectations of myself. I'm starting to think that because I couldn't seem to live up to what I expected I should be, I was just constantly disappointed in the failure I thought I was becoming. (I loathe to admit this also may still be a weakness, it's just that my expections of myself have changed into something less concrete and so harder to potentially achieve.) And what I expected I should be was no doubt informed by my peers, my elders and the bloodiest last but not least mainstream. It seems like such a cop out to say that, but honestly, where else would I have gotten the idea that above all else I should be on my way to being happily married or at least experiencing a sexually satisfying relationship by the time I graduated college? (Aside from my mother who oddly enough expected it [the marriage that is] of me despite feeding me the exact opposite ideas throughout my formative years...) Every pop culture outlet hinted at it at the very least.

What's a girl to do when every magazine aimed at her demographic is filled with sex quizes and tips on how to please your man?

She turns to other more fulfilling magazines when she's finally informed enough to seek them out. Wish I had met some of the strong, independent female friends I have now sooner. The experience of joining the real world would have been so much more pleasant than the one I had: trying to find nourishment in a poisonous female friendship and then figuring out how to extinguish it while maintaining my sense of self. God it's all so dramatic I should have won an Oscar.

What was my point?

Oh right, that after all the growing and changing I've done in my life, this one issue remains stuck to the roof of my mouth, and no amount of brushing, flossing, or gargling can shake it loose. Why is that? (Aside from the obvious, Queen Vee you have issues, this is now public, albeit anonymous, information.)

Is it that people in general aren't willing to try to get to know people who have walls built around them? I can understand that. It takes a lot of energy and why should you bother if that person never lets them down?

Or is it really simply that I just haven't met anyone I'm willing to let them down for?

Perhaps I need someone to overcome me so I don't have the chance to even think about it. There's got to be a way in...I can't be guarded all the time.

Can I?

P.S. That said, I totally need to have sex with someone before I literally drive myself crazy. For whatever reason I cannot stop thinking about it lately. Maybe I've been watching too much tv...gadam pop culture.

A New Year Of Old Assumptions

A lot of people think I'm a lesbian...sooner or later. I can only guess why, maybe the way I dress or the music I listen to, but I think it more or less ends up being the fact that I never talk about men. Or more precisely, about men I date/see/sleep with. The only time this bothers me is when I get all feminist and think why does the absence of men have to determine my sexuality? Why isn't my sexuality determined by the fact that I don't talk about women?

I was working with someone yesterday I only see occasionally, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a lesbian. Either that or he's just one of those guys that says things without thinking them through and then realizes too late...oh yeah, that would be all of them. Anyway, so I told him that I was excited because I may have the chance to meet this actress I like, who happens to have a large lesbian following. First he asked if she was a lesbian. I said I didn't know and then he made a comment about maybe my company was sending me to meet her to set us up. It was such a weird, off-handed thing to say and I was completely taken off guard. So as per usual I just didn't say anything. Heh. Not that I should have anyway being as a) none of his business and b) um...it's a place of business and we're at work...

At the beginning of every year I think to myself, ok this is the year you're going to stop being an ass and you're going to meet someone. This year is no different. I forced myself to attend a New Years party where I'd only know a few people, so that I could meet new people...and possibly scan for guys I might like. I was proud of myself for talking to strangers (for longer than a 2 second hello) but didn't meet anyone I took a liking to, except of course the one tall guy with dark hair and a accent (see #36) who was married. Damn.

I'm just not quite sure to do with myself anymore. Actually, I probably never was.