Powerful

So I've been thinking lately, what is it that makes some one a whore? If you look it up in the dictionary it's a promiscuous or slovenly woman, usually a prostitute...but we use the term so loosely. Skank, whore, slut, sometimes they're even terms we lovingly call our friends. But how is insinuating that your friend sells her self for money a term of endearment exactly? I mean these words were once the lowest of the low in terms of insults, and now we throw them around like as if they were a common greeting. And the tricky thing about them is that sometimes, these words have a double meaning; it can be hard to tell if someone is joking.

So the question is, how do we define what makes someone a slut/skank/whore? Obviously, the dictionary definition is outdated at this point. I had this conversation with my mom the other day and she made the rather astute point that a skank is just someone of low moral/social class, a slut is someone who goes "sluttin' around" with a lot of people, and a whore is someone who "sluts around" only as it is beneficial to them. But then when I proposed the question as to how far one must go to deem these terms, it became difficult to receive and answer. (Partially because I think she began to get really suspicious that I had much more personal association with what she thought was an abstract conversation than she had realized at first.)

The reason I've been so curious is because I have been quite the victim of such name calling recently. It started with my friends joking around. Yeah I made out with Barbosa a lot and kind of publicly, haha, I'm a whore, very funny. But then someone wrote "So I hear you're slutty now" on my formspring, and I began to question my actions. Is that really what some people think of me? I mean I understand that I am a very sexualized person and I present a certain image, but by dictionary terms, I'm not a slovenly woman. And it's not so much worry what other people think of me as it is what this means for my own self perception.

I grew up with this rather male-modeled perception in my head of sex as power. Some one who sleeps with a lot of people is cool and powerful. My childhood cinematic role models taught me that being a sexy woman gives you this kind of power over men, and as I grew up and it became more real I learned just how intoxicating such power can be. (And you really can't factor love into any of this argument, because as far as I was, and somewhat still am concerned, sex and love are two different things. Though I believe they sometimes intermingle, let's just say they're oil and water for the sake of this post.)

So where is the line between being sexy and powerful and being a whore? Does "putting out" surrender ones power? Because the way I see it, if I want to hook up with so and so, it's my life and I have a right to do that, but at the same time, it's incredibly complicated to make these choices on a situational basis. Hooking up with random guys is a slutty thing to do; it cannot be justified because one "wanted to". I think the differentiation (or at least the conclusion I've made) is who holds the power. It's different in a relationship, but in terms of hooking up, the difference between the powerful woman and the slut is that sluts get taken advantage of. I can live with someone calling me a whore as long as I know I was in control of the situation - you don't get emotionally attached; you do things on your terms; you don't let any boy use you; and mostly, you own every choice that you make.

Having been on the receiving end though, I think I for one am going to be a lot more sensitive of the use of this term and try to be a lot less judgmental of the girls I might use it with. I don't have a question for you, the reader, or an answer really; it was just a little food for thought.

Breathe

Hey! Guess what? I'm okay.
Life's up, life's down, but I'm okay.
I thought I couldn't live without you, we've both moved on and I'm okay.
Alex and I are starting to be friends. Real, actual, just friends, and I'm okay.

Green-Eyed Girl

Around you, I have discovered, I become this person I don't want to be.

I'm petty and I'm jealous.
I can't stand watching other girls flirt with you,

even if they're my friends and I know nothing's going on,
even when we're they're sitting right next to their boyfriend of forever.

I really can't take it when it's the girls that I know are after you,

even if I know you hate them.

I can't handle it because they get to touch you and I don't.
I can't handle that we'll be in the same room and you will completely ignore me and talk to them. Though rumor has it that maybe your not flirting with me because you actually do like me, somehow, being ignored, it really doesn't feel that way.

I hate that we're at this place where we're friends, but we aren't really. I mean, to you we might be. You seem fine. But I can't handle it. Being around you is miserable for me - it only reminds me how much I like you.

(Hittin' My Head) Against the Wall

Life's frustrating right now.

My good friends keep asking me why the hell I'm with Alex. I mean, technically, I'm not with Alex, but I still want to be with Alex. Everyone always sees us together and assumes I'm with Alex. I'm still obsessed with Alex. I can't go five seconds without thinking about Alex. "He's the crazy one" they tell me when I tell them that he's made it clear he doesn't want me. Apparently I'm an awesome person and he doesn't deserve me if he's too stupid to see that, and I know this, but I can't help myself. It's like him not wanting me makes me want him even more. I have a feeling it's tied to some daddy issue of vying for affection. But, even so, it's more than that. Being with him would be convenient. I see him all the time anyway, I'm already comfortable with him. It just makes sense. My heart's been through too much this year. I don't want another boy. I don't want to have to start all over again when I've made it this far. I want to work it out. I want to move forward.

I've debated just telling him. Telling him that when I said I was cool with us just being friends I was lying. I was lying because I didn't feel like I had any other choice. I was thinking about asking him over today. But I don't think I will. I'm too chicken. I'm scared he'll say no. And knowing him, he won't really say no he'll come up with a nice non-no and me having to see him all the time will become this awkward torture for the both of us. And yet, having to see him already kills me inside, so isn't the chance that it could get better worth the risk of it getting worse?

And then there's this whole sex thing. I was talking with one of my friends about some stuff and she made it really apparent she's on some self-determined timeline that she has to lose it before high school's over. At first I was like, "Well I'm not quite in that much of a rush...", but aren't I? I mean, I go back and forth on this issue constantly, and I'm not on some timeline, I think that's stupid, but it's all I can think about lately. (Other then obsessing of Alex that is. It's a deadly depressing combination.) You see since I crashed my car I've been bad. Maybe not outwardly so, but I notice in moments that my depression's gotten worse. It's not like suicidal or anything, but it's like I can't feel anything anymore. It's pure apathy. I care about nothing. I feel nothing. The only moments that I actually feel alive are the one's that I'm "with" someone. So I think somewhere I've subliminally told myself that I want to have sex because I want to feel alive. I know I should care more about the whole virginity thing than I do (or so my Catholic education is constantly telling me), but I just don't. I'll probably change my mind again. I mean, it's not like I have any current geographically-available prospects. I don't know. I'm just in one of those places where my life's on stall. I'm due for some good though, so hopefully things will pick up soon.

Needing/Getting

Wanting something you can't have is probably the most frustrating thing in the world. You'd think I'd've learned by now, but it's quite the opposite actually. I've never been good at not getting my way.

It's sort of my problem with Alex right now. Whenever things start picking up with him, they get slammed to a screeching halt. For every two steps we've taken forward it's always four steps back.

Things started really good. It seemed to be going somewhere. Everyone told me it was going somewhere. (But then part of our problem is always our relationship being based on what I'm hearing from other people because he'll never just talk to me.) Then suddenly he tells me that he can't do the whole "monogamous relationship" thing. Not quite the ideal, but alright, cool. That seemed to make sense considering we'd both be parting ways in a few months anyway. And yet a few weeks later when we finally got to talk about it (or text actually cause we could never manage to actually have the conversation in person) and I offer him free range on whatever he wants this to be, he tells me he just wants to be friends.

Now this seemed to be fine and dandy. I mean, I didn't like him that much to begin with, that was the point of this, right? ...But then prom roles around. The secrecy thing was hard. The watching the slutface that is supposedly my friend all over him like she always is just because she knows she can be was not so fun. Overall I think we had a good time, but the entire night he was giving me mixed messages. One second he's pulling me closer and the next he's pushing my hand away. Later when we're all playing hide and seek (your partner was your date of course) him and I ended up taking a nap in a sand trap (oddly foiling our first date) and we're having another one of those "straight from teen novel" moments like we do talking abstractly about life and stuff, when he starts telling me about the girls he was debating between asking to prom. I really shouldn't be offended, but knowing that I hadn't even been one of the people he was thinking of asking when we had been dating up til the week before kind of hurt.

I'd known it before, but I think that was the moment that it hit me that I didn't want to be just friends with this person. That I really like him.

And I know that there's nothing I can do now. Now that we're in the "friends zone", but I can't help it. Every time I see him all I can think about is kissing him again. I made the mistake of giving him a hug today, his scent is still haunting me. I think I'm so glad that any of the guys I've really liked live a billion miles away, because wanting some one so much knowing full and well you can't have them and having to see them every day is I think on of the most miserable experiences I've yet to encounter.

I really don't know what I'm going to do and it's making me crazy. One minute he's completely ignoring me and the next he's completely flirting. Part of me wants to hit him, part of me wants to jump him, and all of me just wants to know what's going on.

Oh, and on an ironic note, the morning after prom my mom was asking about him. She said he was "such a nice boy"; why wasn't I dating him? Alas, if only she knew...

007

I feel like I should blog about prom. It was an important experience in my life (so I've been told) and I do tend to recount those here. Though I hate the thought of forced writing. Me telling you stories can't possibly be fun to read. But it's senior ditch day and I don't feel like studying so...

So Saturday night. People came over, my mom and I argued about my hair, we took pictures, we found out you can fit exactly 16 people in my shower (though not very comfortably). The party bus got here, we got on, signed a waiver, broke a glass (and all yelled "Opa!" in honor of Maria), and Nate swung from the ceiling poles. We got to the prom, ate some crap chicken, took a giant group picture, danced, and the girls took a few cumulative trips to the bathroom. It was over much to quickly for the amount of work that went into it. We danced the whole way home.

Back at my place we played a midnight game of hide and seek on the golf course. Quite a site it must've been to see roughly 20 teenagers running around in semi-prom attire. You're partner was your date. Alex and I ended up taking a nap in a sand trap. Starring up at the sky, it was oddly parallel to our first date, but it was definately different this time. He's just so hot and cold and it's the most frustrating thing ever. Every time I think we take a step forward, we take two steps back. He told me (or correction, texted) that he just wants to be friends, but then I hear he's bitching to his friends about how it was too weird to ask me to prom. I thought he was having a good time dancing with me, but it was like one minute he was pulling me closer and the next he'd be pulling his hand away if I'd try to hold it. And then we're laying there talking and he starts telling me about the two girls he'd been debating between asking to prom. Like, um, hello? Hi, I'm the girl you just went to prom with. You're well aware I have a rather large crush on you. Thanks so much for letting me know you weren't even thinking of going with me. On the bright side it's good to know that when I asked him it "took the pressure off" cause he didn't have to think about it any more. Well, whew, glad I was here to make you're life easier for you buddy boy. But you know, on the other hand, it's making me glad I'm not really friends with any of these "almosts" I've had. It hurts way to much to spend every second your with someone desperately wanting to kiss them all while knowing there busy thinking of someone else.

It was extra awkward cause the next morning my mom was asking me about him. Like "Why don't you like him Katherine? He was cute and very polite. Is he a smart boy? He seemed nice." xD

Headaches

You know the kind
They start out as inklings in the back of your mind - like my memories of you
Faint once, they grow stronger
More than just a little annoyance
It's a power that corrupts
The kind of pain that radiates right down to your toes
They leave you in agony
You want to carve it out
Screw your existence, your well-being
You feel hollow; you want to be hollow - to dig out the pain

You long to scrape it from your very eyeballs

Nothing matters anymore
The good, the bad
The pain, the memories
You just want it out

Pedestal

"More, more," cried the boy.
"But why?" I groaned in reply.
"Because," he insisted, pouting.
"But I have already given so much," I begrudgingly reminded, "why can you not just be happy with what is?"
"Because you are my everything," the boy replied smiling with a simplistically definitive tone.
"But that is an obligation for which I did not ask," I protested.
"But, my little siren, it is so," he said with a growing, almost menacing grin.
I felt my face heat with guilt that was not rightfully my own. "But I did not ask to lure you here. Any rocks cast upon you, you have cast upon yourself," my voice dwindled before trailing, "...but I told you not to fall in love with me..."
Without even looking up from his toys he replied, "but you are Eve, taunting me with your sweet fruits, now I am your burden to bear."
"But can gratitude not be enough to repay your affections, especially when affection is idolized for it's freely given rights?" I asked, feeling trapped and confused.
"No," he smirked, "you are my heart, my soul, my conscience. You are my everything. I give you my everything. There. It is yours." He smashed his fist into the floor like a kamikaze pilot, laughing.
"But who am I too be responsible for all that is you?," I questioned, sweat trickling my brow, my conscious beginning to feel the stress of his life's weight.
"You are my everything," he smiled, and for a moment, I believed him.

Sirenum

Sing little siren,
your songs of sweet sorrow,
the hours you've spent preparing for this moment,
crafting the illusion of a goddess.

Flutter your eyelashes little siren,
flash a smile brighter than a lighthouse,
grant the passerby a false sense of security,
draw the ship in closer.

Sing softer little siren,
leave them hanging on your whispers,
reach out to them,
pretend as though you want them so.

Play your game little siren,
watch the boys come closer now,
don't stop luring til they're crashing,
til their hearts lay mangled and broken on the rocks.

Laugh lightly little siren,
your jaded heart takes cynical joy in the demise of innocents,
somewhere inside you know that you are ugly,
but you'll pride yourself on how well you can pretend to be beautiful.

Snow Patrol and Catch-22's

So I'm lying on the porch swing in my backyard in the pouring rain listening to Snow Patrol letting my imagination wander when all of the sudden I just imagined internet boy was there. And I started thinking about him, about us, about lately.

Doesn't he know he's not the only one hurting? He writes these things about me in his blog, it almost seems like he's checking to see if I pay attention. But I just don't understand; how can he not get that I miss him too?

So many times, I've wanted to call him. On the side of the road after I smashed my car, I was just standing there, shaking, choking down tears - I couldn't think of anyone's voice I'd rather hear; but I resisted.

But as much as I want to be his friend, we're caught in a catch-22 here. I can't be just friends with him, but I can't be more.

He and I don't work. We both agreed. He was always a bit idealistic about it, but it's the truth. We're going to grow into two very different people. Even if we had any geographic hope, our lives, our dreams, our destinies, they're just too different. And continuing on though I know that defeat is inevitable - a hurt like that my heart can't bear.

Since he's been gone, I'm really trying to learn to stand on my own. And it's really important to me that I learn to do that. Talking to him, it's too easy to fish for compliments and let him boost my ego. It's too tempting to allow my self-esteem to rely on his lust. I need to sort out myself before I let anyone in, especially him.

So internet boy, when I told you I wasn't ready to be bffies anytime soon, it wasn't you and it wasn't me being a bitch. I can't be your friend, because I still love you too much. I'm not sure it will ever go away; but I know that as long as I do it's too easy to slip back into old patterns. "I don't know where, and I don't know how, but it will always be the same between you and me." And until the day comes that it's not, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to be your friend.