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Real Talk On Drugs

A few nights ago, I drove my friend up to the hospital while she was high because her boyfriend had just overdosed on heroin.

As a teenager in this modern age, I’ve seen my fair share of drugs. Not that I’m a junkie myself, or spend much time around junkies in general, but I’ve gone to high school. You hear things, you see things, you meet people. Drugs crop up on your radar no matter what kind of person you are, where you spend your Friday nights, and what kind of school you go to. And while my experiences with drugs were HARDLY the description D.A.R.E. officers or health teachers would scare us as kids with, they have been enough to ensure that I’m just not interested in that sort of lifestyle.

Now, let’s take a moment to talk about friendship. Friendship, real, true-blue friendship, means that you are willing to spend time with someone on a general basis, no matter what. Even if you are just hanging out at Walmart, or they are crying because they were just dumped, or you’re having a blast at the water park. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That’s what real friendship is about–sticking it out with someone and staying by their side no matter what life brings them.

Now let’s put the two together. As a teenager, you do a lot of your growing up with your friends and your friendship experiences all the nasty twists and turns and phases that people go through when they are stuck in high school. And because we are all human beings and have the wonderful ability to be absolutely stupid, we can make some funny decisions. Now, going through high school you have to really pick the right friends. Your friends determine how a good portion of your high school experience will be, and can land you anywhere from going to an Ivy League college to Hollywood to a pro athlete to jail, because every group of friends does different things when they are together. But, because people can change so drastically during this time, it’s hard to tell where your friends will lead you…

So I had a great group of friends in high school–just a fantastic group of people–but there was one, I’ll call her Ruth, that bounced between smoking and drinking every once-in-a-while. It was never anything constant, and I knew a lot of people experimented a bit in high school, so I didn’t judge her. After all, she was a great friend, and a good listener who helped me a lot whenever I’d get depressed. We always had a lot of fun, and I knew she was a good person. Then my junior year I decided to experiment myself. I had never drank before, apart from sips of beer or wine my parents would let me have from time to time, and so I decided to go for it. So sometimes during sleepovers we would bring along something we snuck from the liquor cabinet, and drink and giggle and spill our secrets until the wee hours of the morning. But then the summer came, and we wanted to party. Which we did, a bit, and met other people who liked to “have a good time” too. We were both going through some rough things that summer, and having fun like that was our escape from the loneliness and pain we felt by ourselves. Well, for a while it was all fun and games, but eventually you get bored again. So we took up smoking pot sometimes. Yes, it was a drug, but it wasn’t addictive or dangerous–you couldn’t overdose on pot. Well, the more time went on, the more frequent we smoked. But then Ruth took up a new habit of going through the medicine cabinet and snorting painkillers–primarily Oxycontin. I drew the line there. Nothing was going up my nose; I was already concerned about my own use of pot. I told her I didn’t think it was wise to go to anything beyond a little pot, but she liked it and continued to do it in secret. Well, you know how the story goes. You run out of your own supply, you need more, you meet shady people, cops show up, Mom finds out, and next thing you know you’re sitting in rehab. So while I began my senior year, Ruth began treatment.

It was then that I stopped smoking. The summer was over, and things needed to be serious again. Eventually Ruth returned going to school full time, and I was there for her during the evenings she wasn’t at treatment. Well, during treatment she met this guy, an older guy. Ruth had been doing really good, and while I was happy she was happy while they hung out, I was concerned about his own habits. He was a recovering heroin addict, and that fact was enough to try to convince her to date someone else. But she didn’t, and they became a couple. Eventually I met him, and found that he was a pretty nice guy. She would talk about him with stars in her eyes, telling me different he was from the other guys she’d been with, how much they had in common, and how happy he made her. Since they had been together for weeks and they both were clean, I finally gave it my blessing.

Well, nothing is forever. She loved him, and after she completed treatment he quit. Eventually he returned to his habits, and like I originally suspected, she picked them up right with him. So began the phone calls from a crying Ruth, so began the attempts to separate should he keep wanting to use. And then the other night I get one of the crying phone calls, only this time it was because he had overdosed and Ruth had called 911. So there I was, past midnight in the ER, watching Ruth’s boyfriend puke his guts out. There I sat, while he suggested leaving without the doctor’s approval because a) maybe they were waiting to arrest him and b) he was fine anyway. His eyes were barely open and his words were slurred as he said this. The worst part? Ruth, who had tears continuously streaming from her glassy eyes was actually considering what he was saying.

Eventually he was released though, and I drove them home. I ended up getting home past 1am, crying myself from anger at the situation and the speeding ticket I was just issued, completely dreading my 8am to 4pm shift at McDonald’s later that morning.

And why did I do it? Friendship. Do I ever want to do that again? No. Hell no. Will they break up? I don’t know. Will he stay clean this time around (implying that he tries to)? Probably not, but I hope so anyway. Do I hate heroin? Yes. Am I mad at Ruth? No. But I’m sad for her. She’s so much smarter than this and needs to be kinder to herself. Did I ever think this would happen?

Did I ever think this would happen? No. Absolutely not. But for all of you readers out there, let me tell you: you never do.


The Adult Life, Part 2

Being young, sometimes life moves in slow motion. The first time you see someone smile can take what feels like five minutes instead of five seconds, as you watch and feel your inhibition melt off of you like wax on a candle. A song can last forever, drawing out memories faster than actual musical notes. But at the same time, life moves at hyper speed. Hours of talking/touching slip from your fingers, as quickly as a breeze. Relationships turn over like waves on the shore, each washing something new onto shore. And those are just examples about our love lives… Yet, according to everyone past their younger years (namely, old people), we are supposed to build our entire lives out of these moments that play fast and slow with our hearts.

Well great. Why is it that when you’re young and busy you have all of this huge pressure on your shoulders to do all this majestic crap? Why can’t we figure out what to do with the rest of our lives in our thirties when we are most likely married or parents or at least holding a stable job? You know, when we’ve got some stuff taken care of so we actually have time to figure out this shit instead of all at once?

But don’t listen to my whining; what do I know? I’m an 18 year old college freshman about to move out on my own in a whole new city/area, starting to plan my financial future and career, and am about to leave behind everyone I know–and I do mean everyone. Where I’m going I won’t have any family, friends, or even acquaintances around from these past 18 years of life. What do I know about life’s pressures?

UnknownLook, I know when you are older you are wiser, and blah blah blah, but why are young people not taken as seriously as the older generations? After all, we are the people who will be running the world when you are getting your third hip replacement and the highlight of your week is the grocery trip to Save A Lot. Why is it that instead of guidance, young adults are left to suffer the consequences of every single choice we make on our own? And by guidance I don’t mean lectures. Believe me, we’ve had lectures. I’m talking about discussion, actual problem-solving and intellectual debating over issues going on right in front of our noses. Why is it that college students (or even older high school students) do not get involved anymore in our communities and retreat into our worlds of social media and commercial persuasion? Because in the real issues we are not taken seriously. And now, in this controversial time in US government and politics, when the “real” adults are bickering over bills in congress like toddlers do with toys, the younger generation is called up to the plate to take a swing at settling the arguments. But we don’t, because the truth is, our society has changed so rapidly in the past few decades that our elders don’t know what it’s like to be our age. The need for them to understand us and our issues as we try to understand them  and theirs is more pressing than ever, and we need that courtesy and respect before we even begin to cooperate with each other to get anything resolved.

So, I’m calling on all “real” adults out there–next time you are talking with a rookie hear them out. Don’t dismiss them for how much time they spend on Facebook or text. Don’t compare their education to yours (because after all, I think it is blatantly obvious that education, of all things, has changed over the years). And don’t be stuck in your own opinions to the point where you can’t be open-minded. After all, things change. 

I know I’ve done a lot of ranting in this post…most of it subjective…but that does not make the facts any less true, which are that I am a young person desperate to be heard, acknowledged by the adult world as having legitimate responsibility, and over all taken seriously. I’m reaching out, however minor it may be; someone please reach back.

Summer Loving: Just A Catchy Phrase?

Summer air. Full of infatuation, full of possibilities, of nights that run wild and chase after sunrise…most of us can never get enough. Though my summer days are lacking in employment for the most part, somehow I’ve managed to do so much throughout each week. Lately I’ve been surrounded with a group of people and am becoming more and more entertained by what the summer air is filling them with: there is the classic love triangle, the competition between the guys, the happy couple, the rough-housing jocks, the flirt, the whispering of budding relationships….all in one group.

Here’s an example: there’s this guy…let’s call him Jack…who is dating…Clara. Jack is a major flirt to anything with a pulse, so when Clara landed the “girlfriend” position a few months ago, everyone was shocked. However, for the last month Jack and…Libby, have been all too friendly with each other. Everyone knows they like each other, everyone but Clara it seems. But Jack isn’t breaking up with her. Meanwhile, a different guy…Cary…has been talking to Jack and is attracted to him. Jack seems to be flirting with him at the same time as flirting with Libby and dating Clara. Who will he choose? Who knows? Is he switching teams (going from hetero to homosexual)? Can’t be sure. And so we have our love triangle, contracted by one massive flirt.

Maybe it’s something in the air. Everyone is in love or flirting or something in between it seems. The lines that define companionship are blurred in the summer heat by skimpy tank tops, long, tan legs, and smooth muscles. Do we all convince ourselves that it’s just some summer fun, or is it merely a coincidence that lovers seem to meet under the blazing summer stars?

Recently I read a mini blog series about attraction from another WordPresser, “thelovemanifesto”. He broke it down into the nature and nurture, the social aspects and the environmental. After witnessing the experiences of my friends, I can’t help but wonder if this is a case of teenage hormones or an actual biological tendency. I’ve heard of a mating season for certain animals, but could the same effect be taking place with people?

Anyway, just some thoughts for the day. The summer has always made me a bit reckless, and by this post I guess I’m just looking for conformation that I’m not alone. Let me know your thoughts/feel welcome to comment!

Understanding the “There”

As much as the ability to understand people and their situations is a blessing, there are some things I wish I didn’t understand.

Yesterday my dad asked me about group therapy, and how it works. He was trying to understand why I “need this”, while earlier at group I was in group thinking about Susannah and trying understand her decision to down thirty pills. Turns out, when I eliminated her from the situation, and thought of myself back in June it wasn’t so hard to understand her decision at all.

And that’s what group is for. No one else in our lives is able to look into our eyes and understand what it is like to be on the brink of ending your own life. And thank goodness for that, because they can make us want to be better for them. But they can also give you more reasons that you are on the brink in the first place. “All I’m doing is worrying Mom….” “I’ve pulled away from all my friends and hurt their feelings…” “How would Grandpa and Grandma feel if they knew I was like this?”

Guilt eats us away, even if we have therapists at our side. “They’re only listening to get my money.” “They don’t want to hear about this shit.” “They’re just watching for me to look away so they can sneak a peek at their watch.” But group, those other people around our age who voluntarily come here, they’ve been on your side of things. They aren’t there to judge you, or be worried about you. They are there to look you in the eyes and honestly say, “I’ve been there.”

“There” is a scary place to be. I remember the evenings I would be driving to work and thinking of what I had ahead of me: exhaustion, tears, sweat, and stress. Then I would see the lane next to me, full of the blinding lights that came with incoming traffic. And all of a sudden I would feel very calm. Just a few seconds of a decision and my hand could jerk and be smashed into nothing. And it’s all my decision. No one could stop me, not my parents or friends or teachers. They would all just have to deal with the fact I’m dead and cold and finally numb. Because I was tired of dealing with all the pressure inside my head.

“There” also means that “everything will get better eventually” is bullshit. Things haven’t gotten better, they’ve gotten me here, and it’s just been getting worse and worse. “There” means you have come to the point where advice is meaningless words, and love is a constant source of disappointment. Basically, no one but yourself can help you, and you are so weak and tired…feeling utterly helpless.

So that’s why I enjoy group and continue to go to it, though I’m feeling stable right now. Because I wish someone had said they understood when it was me. Being alone “there” is one of the scariest things I understand.

‘Tis The Season To Yawn

It’s Christmas Eve. Or December 24th if you’re not into the whole Christmas scene. Even though right now I’m supposed to be having happy family memories or baking or wrapping gifts to Bing Crosby Christmas carols, I’m not. I’m here writing to you people, who probably understand me more than Bing or my family ever will.

As you can probably tell by that passive-aggressive comment, I’m not exactly on great terms with my family at the moment. But first things first.

So that last post I put up was a bit vague and abrupt. Guess I’ve got some explaining to do. Well, someone who knows me personally thought it would be the “right thing to do” to tell my school guidance counselor about my blog. I guess all my little comments about cutting myself freaked them out, since it’s such a cheery topic and all. Anyway, it ended up with my mom yelling at me for being so depressed and threatening to not send me to college if I didn’t start to get better. Gee, thanks for having my back Mom.

I don’t really want to talk about the rest. It’s still pretty upsetting even though I’m not angry anymore.

Anyway, I’ve missed writing this stuff so onto what I wanted to talk about: the holidays. A time for giving people gifts to show them how much you truly appreciate them, which I love. And also a time to waste money on people who give you gifts and so you feel obligated to return the favor, even though you don’t really like them. Oh, and then there’s some religious stuff thrown in for good measure.

It used to be this time of year where everyone smiled and acted nicer. Now that I’m older, it’s this time where everyone is crying from all their stress about finals. And you are completely broke. Fah la la lala, FAIL. To put it in a realistic perspective, I have 14 cents in my checking account. But back to Christmas past, where everyone put up Christmas lights and drank hot chocolate and elementary schools did not get shot up.

Alright, I know I’m being depressing as hell. The thing is, I just never got into the holiday spirit this year. I feel like it’s still November. No one’s really been smiling in my family. Especially not to me. The Christmas lights are up, the tree is decorated, but they are just inanimate objects now. They don’t mean anything like they used to.

You know what I really want for Christmas? For my parents to like me again. To get to see my man-friend without pissing them off. To spend time with my friends just relaxing, not running all over the place, making other people be happy and not ourselves.

I want to feel useful again. I want to feel like people are genuinely happy that I am in their lives. Like Christmas is supposed to be.

Guess this is an awfully Scrounge-esque post. If you are having a wonderful holiday, please enjoy every second of it! If you’re totally understanding everything I’m saying, I hope it gets better for the both of us. Truth be told, I’ve been very happy lately…when I’m not home.

Santa, you materialistic bastard, can you bring happiness to my family?

Life, Depression, And Other Things You Might Not Care About

Life. Some people think it’s complicated. Some think it’s easy, so long as you keep a positive outlook. Others think it’s easy, so long as they have their crystal meth. Generally, people recognize that it’s confusing. You life could consist of being some cancer patient, a hobo, a millionaire, a celebrity, a dictator, a prisoner, a martyr, a clown, a teenager writing some stupid crap on the internet about their insignificant life…

But anyway, you could always be better off. You could always be worse off. So either way you lose, because both those things mean you have to suck it up when life gets messed up. Easier said than done. What’s really the thing that gets me is the moments where you feel like you’ve screwed up your entire life. And you’ve had about ten of those. Whoever came up with the concept of the mid-life crisis obviously forgot what its like to be a teenager.

My latest crisis all started on Thursday afternoon. I had a shrink appointment that I was not looking forward to. The session before I had completely shut down on my therapist because she was reminding me of my mom and it pissed me off. Despite what a lot of people think, shrinks are people too, and all people have relationships with another, no matter how strange. So it’s sometimes hard to not treat them like everyone else and care what they think, make assumptions, and get somewhat attached to their company.  You get pissed off at them, frustrated, happy, all that jazz. So I wasn’t too sure how this next session would go, and actually considered dropping individual therapy, despite my cutting.

Well, my pissy mood didn’t last because there was this girl in the waiting room with me, drawing. And I’ve got this problem with sitting in a room with one other person in absolute silence for an extended amount of time. I kept looking over, because for some reason she really reminded me of me back when I was motivated and artsy. So I finally ask what she’s drawing and before I know it we’re chatting it up and she’s giving me hope in finding inspiration to draw again, which almost sounds like a metaphor for finding hope and inspiration to keep the whole “life” thing going…

So then my shrink comes out, who is also this girl’s shrink, and it’s time to bare my soul. I exchange my blog info with her, and just like that, I made a new friend. Not too bad for a depressed, awkward slacker. Well, that kind of gave me courage and all, so I sat down and told my therapist flat-out why I was pissed at her. And then I bared my soul and started crying and blabbering and all that embarrassment.

After that I decided to go see my best friend Val and see how her day had been going. And so what was supposed to be a twenty-minute hello turned into hours of hanging out. And then my man-friend called me. And before I knew it, I was begging my mom to spend the night at “Val”‘s and let me skip school for once in my life. A couple of hours later, I was at his house.

So I spent the night. And it was wonderful, every unexpected and expected moment of it. And just as I was leaving, my mom decided to blow up my phone. So I call her. And guess what? She called Val’s mom. BUST-STED.

Guess who’s grounded?

But you’re wrong if you think I regret it. I have this new philosophy to stop living my life based around what other people think makes a “good” person and start living it based around me, and what I actually want. So that means I skipped taking the SAT/ACT this morning as well.

My mom was PISSED. But I was happier.

Blah,blah,blah, I went to work, Mom calmed her shit down, and I began my night of being a loser/hermit, home alone. And I started feeling awful like I always do. After all, I’ve become super lazy, am failing calculus, dropped speech, am behind on my school work, have a job that barely pays for gas, have a habit of cutting myself, and loads of other shit-tastic things. I had hit my crisis moment.

I’m not going to lie to you people: I am not doing too good right now. I constantly sleep, eat junk food instead of real meals, lack motivation, barely participate in the things I used to love, and keep drawing away from those closest to me. Depression has officially taken over, and I’m on my last leg.

But I’m guessing that you readers have had some sort of exposure to depression and know how it feels to be on your way to rock bottom, where nothing makes you feel alive anymore. So I won’t elaborate any further. The thing I’m asking is, how do you really know when you are ruining your life? Or, even more so, is there any way to know if you are ruining your life? I could list off a bunch of people who might say that I am right now, but I want confirmation from myself. (Because honestly, who gives a damn what other people think about my life when they aren’t the ones living it?)

Side Note: Readers, readers…as much as I try to make this blog exposed to the world (hence the new Facebook ‘Like’ box), I know that not too many people read this crap. Which is okay with me, because the minute I saw that one person had read and liked my first post I was ecstatic. But I just want to let the few of you know how much I appreciate your input through comments, tweets, ‘likes’, all of it. In all honesty, you guys are the only people who really know what’s going on with me, and can relate to my trouble with depression. So, thank you. Every word you read makes me feel one step closer to the rest of the world, and one step farther from life’s complication.

Wonderful, Broken Words

Over the years, after my many mishaps and ridiculous affairs, I’ve come to believe that no relationship is permanent. That’s pretty easy to accept when people have left you alone…it softens the blow and lets you believe it’s not always your fault. But let’s actually think about it. Your relationships with your parents can become incredibly strained, if not broken. Friends can be lost with the passing years, and romance is only alive when sustained. And if all that fails, there’s the knowledge that someday we’ll all die, as bitter as it sounds. My point is, if this is acknowledged by a person, why does it still hurt so much when someone leaves us? Ding ding ding! It’s our emotions!! Oh, yeah, those things.

Someone can say the magic of “I really care about you,” “I love you,” “I’ll always be there for you,”. But no one can make them last forever. It’s always alive in moments, and the more time passes in between that moment and the present it can betray you.

Lately I’ve been wishing Landon hadn’t said all those sweet things to me. First of all, it sucks to kiss and hold someone you cannot be with, because of a stupid reason like, “we are both so busy that we would never get to see another enough.” It’s not fair, and it hurts to accept, especially every time you are close with them. However, you know what sucks more? When they are completely oblivious to your existence from then on, and no longer make that much of an effort to talk to you. Yeah, um, asshole, I thought you told me we would be there for each other and be “great friends”. What the hell happened to that idea?!

Because of my lack of time and lack of solution to this hurt, I’m going to keep this post shorter than usual. All I want to know is how someone can do such a thing, no matter how shy they are. This is a guy I’ve known for years, and I know he is not mean-spirited enough to just use someone… But is it possible that he’s really changed his mind? The possibility of that hurts, but what hurts more is the memory of him saying he’d always be there for me, would never want to hurt me….because he hasn’t and he did.

From the Negative, Neurotic, Non-Wise Nelly

It cracks me up in the saddest way possible how as we get older we tell ourselves we are wiser. If anything, the older I get, the more fucked up I am. Negative Attributes of My Aging:

1.) Developing Depression

2.) Developing leg/armpit/bodily hair

3.) The amount of time consumed by thinking about guys

4.) Calculus, Trig, my American History teacher from last year

5.) Discovering that my parents had sex to create my existence

6.) Caring about what other people think

7.) Acne

8.) Lack of recess & nap time

And some other stuff.

Look, I know I’m being all “Negative Nelly” here, but right now this whole “life” thing is getting a bit harder and what do humans do when they are frustrated and sad and confused? Complain. So please at least give me a shot to explain this right…

That guy I flirted with at the movies, one of my friends (Landon), he won’t pursue me because we are “too good of friends”. And I don’t know if that means he’s changed his mind about me, he actually means it, or he never liked me much to begin with. So my hope to be with the person I like is shot to hell, I’m guessing. Meanwhile, Charles and I have been talking. The other night when not-watching a movie we nearly even slept together. He wants to get back together, and now I’m wondering if I just want to sleep with him for closure, or because I’m still in love with him.

And here I am, alone in my room, wanting nothing but to curl up and sleep until I wake up happy. I’m 96% sure if I got back together with Charles that it would end as it always has, resulting from the same issues all over again. But he is always there for me, he loves me, and it feels right between us, as it always has. Yet, I so wanted to try it out with Landon. It’s my senior year, and I wanted that last chance to figure things out with him…I wanted to get to know him better, and have that delicious feeling of discovering something wonderful (him) running through my veins.

And the absolute worst part of this is how much I hate myself for caring about this nonsense in the first place. Why do I feel so lonely when I could think positive and be happy? Why am I not stronger?


I know I’m not perfect, not “normal” according to society’s standards, and an overall pretty decent person. So how do I keep tripping up over these small issues that turn into mountains?

When I was a kid, I knew who I was, liked myself for it, and only cared about what my parents thought of me. I didn’t try to throw parties when they were out-of-town, have sex with boys, and take Prozac everyday. I was perfectly living up to all of the expectations of being a kid.

Anymore, I just expect to make myself more unhappy with every passing day. So, am I wiser? I think not. I am only succeeding at disappointing others, and hurting myself.

Pretty uplifting to read about, isn’t it?

The Perks of Being A Slacker

I am so freaking pumped!!!

Tonight I am going to see a scary movie with my friends (Sinister, if you must know) and I have been looking forward to it all week. You know when you feel like your life is in shambles? Yeah, there’s where I stand, and I choose to cling to little things like this while I’m standing there on top of my shambles.

It’s not that I feel completely shit-tastic or lost, but I just don’t want to think about homework and college and play practice (’cause I’m in the school play!) and which jeans I wore to school. I don’t want to waste more time contemplating calculus or listening to my sociology teacher drone on about sports. Do you hear me?! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!

Even though my “anymore” just equals two days. But still, all I hear about is some of my friends talking about their ba-gillion tests and how they spend hours upon hours on homework and projects each night. You know what I do? Listen to trashy music while I’m on laptop catching up on what’s going on in some other world that doesn’t involve living in a town called “fetus” and passing out around nine-thirty.

“You’re such a slacker!”

You’re such a fucking mom! Go organize your schedule for the next three years while I do this thing called “being a teenager”.

Look, I love the people in my life. They put 95% of the smiles I have on my face, well, on my face. But sometimes I can’t help but compare my life to theirs and feel shabby. Now, other friends of mine make me feel alive and rebellious and help me cook up all sorts of trouble. But finding balance between the two is tripping me up. How can such differences in one group exist without it all separating? And I know my friends love me for who I am, but I can see the look of, “Oh, you didn’t do that.” in their eyes when I shrug at the stuff they spend hours on.

I know this is all partially my fault, for being all insecure and dumb, but wouldn’t you feel the same way? Like your whole week is riding on one night so you can feel fulfilled again? Imagine being a teenager and struggling to find yourself, your future, your priorities, your feelings, and common sense 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

So tonight, tonight well…I’m gonna jump up and down, scream at a movie screen, clutch onto a cute guy that I like, and laugh so hard my stomach hurts because I am young and wild and I don’t want to be anything else right now.

For Guys Everywhere: On Girls & Our Weirdness

Alas, my creepiness continues. I just got done reading a post from this guy ericdodo on here, and now even though I’m a complete stranger to him, he has inspired me to write a post. Basically, some people creep on Facebook, I guess going to Reader on WordPress is the equivalent of out of the blue barging into some stranger’s brain and rummaging through their sock drawer.

I don’t know if that made sense or not to you, but I’m going to move on with the topic of this post anyway.

Call me immature, call me lame, but I’ve always harbored this secret desire to teach a class or something to a group of guys that tells them how to treat a lady/what the hell is wrong with girls. Because let me tell you, females are smart and compassionate and some of the most amazing people in the world, but we are also completely and totally fucked up.

At a young age, I realized that men/guys/boys were never going to understand us. So given that frustrating piece of knowledge, I thought, “Well why don’t we just teach them?”

Unfortunately, I grew up and discovered that even though men/guy/boys are usually simple to figure out, sometimes they are capable of making females just as confused as we make them. After all, girls are so easy at figuring out other girls, and after years of having best friends who were primarily girls, teen hood threw one at me when it came to being friends with guys. They didn’t know anything about girls that you can’t find in Playboy. Oh the frustration I had…

But enough about that. After suffering through years of zits and failed hairstyles and rejection from guys, I’ve finally got a solid grip on them. Heck, I probably talk to more guys than I do girls now. And so, to the guys still questioning what the hell goes on in the female brain I give you some advice:

1. If you’re meeting a girl for the first time, it’s okay to flirt a bit. That way they’ll know right off the bat about how you feel, and if they’re not feeling it back then they aren’t trapped in this oh-crap-I-have-to-see-this-guy-everyday situation. You both are free to move on with your lives and forget each other’s existence the next day. So it doesn’t have to be that big of a deal.

2. If you like a girl who works with you/is in classes with you/you see from time to time, then don’t flirt right off the bat unless you’re really confident enough to. The less horrifying way to do it is to first talk to her about something unimportant. Compliment her shoes, ask her about an assignment, complain about how your boss smells like the inside of a bowling shoe. Just let her become aware of your being alive. Next, be nice. I know that sounds dumb, but I mean nicer in a way that is a bit special. Open doors for her, share your snack, be polite, take an interest in her life (asking her about hobbies/friends/family/whatever has been previously mentioned between the two of you). If you’re being a bit more nice than the average joe is, she’ll know you have a positive opinion of her. Now it’ll be her turn to decide how this ends up. She’ll either be repulsed by your niceness, encourage it, of be stuck somewhere in the middle where she accepts it, but does nothing to reciprocate. With the first two options, I expect you to have enough sense to know how you should respond. With the last…. She either doesn’t know how to be nice and say no at the same time, or she hasn’t quite figured out how she feels, or she’s shy. That means you have got to make an obvious move and see how she reacts.

3. If you like a girl you know really well, good luck. This is the toughest situation to test. You can either be bold and just spring it on her by making a move, or you can subtly hint at it while risking her not picking up on it. Decide this course of action based on if she’s observant or not. Some people need to be smacked over the head with feelings to figure them out, others just need a look to know how things are rolling. So if you’re going to do the subtle hinting thing, just be extra nice like I said in #2 and try to connect to her on an emotional level. Opening up to her will show her how much you trust her, and hopefully allow her to place the same trust in you. It doesn’t have to be anything too traumatic, just be real. Say so if you’ve had a crappy day, if you are angry with someone or something, confused about a certain situation, etc. After you two have gotten so close, it’s okay to admit how you feel about her, so long as you don’t freak her out and make put her on the spot (“Do you like me? Do ya? DO YA?”). Just be straight up and say how you feel, then tell her you just wanted her to know that, because your friendship means a lot and you want to be honest with her. If she’s a true friend, she’ll stick by you no matter what she feels.

I know there’s tons more to figure out. Believe me, I’ve gotten some weird questions from guys (examples: “Does it hurt your boobs to lay on your stomach?” Nah, not really. “Is it weird that I’ve watched Power Puff Girls before?” Depends on if you played with Barbies or not as well. “Can I watch you take out your tampon?” NO!). But for now, I hope this can clear some things up for you guys, or that you will at least tell me if you think I’m full of shit or not. If I’m gonna write advice, I want to make sure it’s actually helping people, so tell me if it is too.

I know I’m no guru of the female gender or anything, but take it from a girl who’s been hurt and in love and scammed on and majorly creeped out, I wish a lot of guys just knew this crap. Being a girl can already suck, so being a girl around a some sucky guy is something I think we all could do less with. (Really?! “Can I watch you take out your tampon?” REALLY?!?!?!)

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