Don’t Hit on Strangers in Elevators

8 04 2014

So, to the guy who works in my building (possibly as a custodian or maintenance man), I only told you my name because I couldn’t think of a way not to.

And no, I don’t want to model for you. I don’t care if you think my hair is amazing.

I’m sure there are plenty of aspiring models who will respond to a Craigslist posting. I’m pretty sure photos for a portfolio aren’t cheap.

But you’re not a photographer. Real photographers don’t have to stop random women in elevators and ask to model for them, they don’t ambush them.

Real photographers don’t complain that girls are ‘taking selfies in their underwear in their bathrooms’ and aren’t letting you take pictures of them in ‘regular clothes.’

Maybe someone else might have been flattered. But I doubt it. Your approach wasn’t subtle, and you approached in an enclosed space, which doesn’t leave a way for me to exit gracefully. Or at all. I’m stuck with you until I get to my floor. I don’t know you, you’re talking about a situation where I would be alone with you after complaining about women who don’t want to let you take their picture. It’s creepy.

And I’m not saying that because you’re a man, or because I don’t find you attractive. I’m saying that because you’re a stranger with a lack of boundary awareness, and that’s the best case scenario. If that is the case, educate yourself and quick, because you are going to cross the wrong person’s boundaries one day, and they might not just want to run away from you, like I did.

Because come on.

You know what I’m thinking? And I may not be right, but I think there’s a good chance that I am.

You don’t want to take my picture. Maybe that’s how you’d start it, but again, there are legitimate ways to acquire photography models.

You want to get me alone and vulnerable, and you want to see how far you can push. You think you can trick or convince me into having sex with you.

And you clearly didn’t care about the fact that I was uncomfortable, or wasn’t interested in talking to you.

So I’m saying this: Cut it out. Don’t stop random women and ask to take their picture or ask their name when they’re clearly not interested.

I’m not saying you can’t have a sex life, or make your interest in a woman clear.

Just have some respect while you do it. That’s all.

Sincerely yours,






The Zimmerman-Martin Trial.

14 07 2013


Before yesterday, I was planning on writing a post about my new internship, and my dating life. But I think this is going to be a more serious post.

Now, I’ll admit I haven’t been following the trial extremely closely. Nor was I expecting Zimmerman to get convicted of murder. I was hoping that he could be convicted of manslaughter, but it seemed unlikely, especially under Florida law. The jury probably followed the letter of the law. That being said-

I am pissed off, and I’m sad.

There was a teenager walking home, and never got there. And no one of this needed to happen. Had everyone, as I have suggested in an earlier post, minded their own business, it would have been just another ordinary evening. But Zimmerman got out of his car and followed a teenager. Trayvon, who can’t be asked what happened, most likely was unnerved by being followed and reacted without thinking about it. And the end result is a dead teenager and a man who will forever be branded as a violent racist and will never be able to go out in public again without looking over his shoulder.

I don’t think that the jury was necessarily wrong-if the state didn’t have enough evidence to convict Zimmerman, his attorneys would have just appealed. But that doesn’t seem like enough to gloss the situation over.

Parents no longer have their son, and a lot of people feel reminded that there is still racism and a lack of justice in this country.

I just worry that there are people walking the streets with guns. I don’t believe there is any real need for a civilian to carry a loaded gun. It’s one thing to have a rifle in your hunting lodge to shoot targets or deer or something on weekends, but what’s your average citizen going to need a pistol first? What, you think someone’s going to hold up a Starbucks? Even if you do, you’re more likely to make the situation worse than become a hero. And then there are people carrying guns that wouldn’t pass a police psych exam. I know the criminal elements have weapons, but I doubt a lay person with a hand gun is going to stand much of a chance against a hardened criminal anyway.

…all this just makes me tired. Why can’t everyone just live and let live? Everyone seems to want to hate or distrust someone. Why? We all live in this world, and we all just want to be happy. Can’t we bond over that? No one was born into this world to enter conflicts. We came into this world to live. I don’t know why hating each other has so much more power than that.

Well, thanks for reading. I’m going to go and read something funny.

Sincerely yours,



22 04 2013


That’s basically how I am now.

I don’t want to be home, but I don’t want to be out, because I don’t really have anywhere to be, and I’d rather be home doing nothing or writing than be out wandering. I have to be in a certain mood to wander. It’s not like I’m in a new city or country, where wandering will always lead to something different. Here, I have paths that I have walked, and the part of me is nervous and scared of anything unfamiliar doesn’t like to be forced off the path without a specific destination.

So I’m going to try a new thing, starting this week sometime. I think I will pick a destination, and head for it, and explore that way. Once I’m out, it’s much harder to run and hide, and the part of me that loves new things will be too busy looking around to let the scared part protest. Once the weather is a little warmer, I will return to the cupcake shop again, and wander the area around there. (I can’t afford most of the area around it, but it’s fun to window shop. Plus, there’s a tea cafe around there, and I want to go back to it. I went there on a date once, I haven’t been back since, and it would be nice to go again.)

I’m also thinking about going back to my support group. I feel like sometimes I need something that’s not therapy, but I can just…talk and be with people who get it. And I think it’ll help me develop my empathy more, listening to others and not getting irritated by their expression of emotion.

On another note-I’ve lost forty-five pounds! Holy crap, right? I started out at 198 pounds, and now I’m at 153! Now, the top end of my healthy weight range is 141 pounds, and I don’t want to be right at the top. Also, to be a Lifetime Member of Weight Watchers I have to stay within 2 pounds of my goal weight. (Well, two pounds above, I can go below if I wish.) So I’m going for 138, which is fifteen pounds down. I bet I can do it. I mean, the last ten pounds are apparently the hardest, but I’m going to do it.

I’ll probably have to work on my fitness ADD. Apparently I hate workouts that feel like workouts as well- I’ll do high knees and butt kicks while I jog with the dog, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten through a workout DVD. (I like the Wii Fit, but the Wii’s disk drive can’t read the disk anymore, so I can’t do it. I am crushed.)

(Those of you who want to lose weight and have a dog, take the dog for more walks. It helps and the dog will be happy.)

Tomorrow, however, I’m going to make cupcakes for my ceramics class. It’s an expression for my love of baking and my affection for the members of my class. (Except for irritating Hobble Husband. I call him that because he hurt himself being an idiot and is on crutches, and also he is a pitiful excuse for a husband to his wife. No job, thinks too much of himself, expects her to constantly accommodate him, and has the shallow charisma that appeals to people but conceals his flaws. Gag me. I hate men like that. However, he’s getting a cupcake because it’s not as if I can keep it from him and I like his wife very much.)

I feel less restless now. I think this blog helps me with that feeling. I’m grateful for it. And for you guys who apparently read it, ha ha.

Sincerely yours,


Two Things Of Note

15 03 2013


Seriously, there’s only two things that this post is going to talk about because I don’t feel like writing an essay tonight.

Thing One.

I have 18 followers on this blog. How, I have no idea, because I don’t advertise this blog anywhere, and the description of this blog is essentially ‘J.J talks about her life, rambles, and occasionally talks about sex’. Who is reading this? I assume everyone is attracted by my unique voice and I’ll just go on with it.

That being said, everyone who follows me, thank you very much! It makes me smile that I manage to amuse/entertain/confuse/upset this minuscule corner of the internet. My own little footprint. Yay! But I think I should try to reach a larger audience. Maybe I should talk about sex more. People like sex, right? And violence and explosions! …maybe that’s just the American public in general. We have such a lousy global reputation. (Also, still haven’t heard from BB. Sigh. I’m pretty over him, but still. He amuses me and he’s adorable.)

And now-

Thing Two.

This. This is a song. This upsets me greatly. Do you know why?

Because the first ten seconds (and indeed the chorus) of this song consists of ‘Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass.’

What. The fuck. Have the stands of American music fallen so far? I mean, I’m not saying that there haven’t been raunchy songs. Songs about butts, even. But there is a universe of difference between ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, which is celebrating women with big butts and their apparent good time value and the entire song is ‘Hey big women let’s get busy’, and a song that…that…I can’t even describe it. I mean, the chorus of the song is just ‘Ass.’ I mean, I can come up with a better chorus right now. Um…

Big booty got the shout

You got one, stick it out

Real women have curves

I see ’em I swerve

Come on big girls let’s go!

…okay, that was terrible, but you see what I mean. This song fills me with despair. The fact that someone was paid some exorbitant amount of money to write, produce, and perform that song depresses me. I’m going to listen to Bruce Springsteen.

Sincerely yours,


Sexist Commercials

6 03 2013

Why are commercials insisting on perpetuating sexist ideas?

For instance, of all the commercials for cleaning products, the only ones I can remember that feature a man in any prominence are for Viva paper towels, and even that man is not really using the product; his mother is cleaning up his messes, including his filthy body. As for the rest, they only prominently feature women, many of whom seem to enjoy cleaning to the point of ecstasy.  Notable exceptions are some commercials for Swiffer, which do feature women, but Swiffer claims to save these women time to do things that they enjoy.

I am aware that the purpose of a commercial is to sell its product, and that a product producing happiness will induce more customers to buy, and that perhaps pandering to these ideas boosts sales but is there really a need to perpetuate the notions that only women clean, women enjoy cleaning, or that men either don’t clean at all or are completely inept at it? Such notions don’t encourage feelings of equality between the genders; children watching are going to get the idea that women clean with enjoyment and that men either can’t clean or don’t have to.

Speaking as a woman who would be insulted if gifted with a domestic product (not like this, that would be awesome) such as a vacuum cleaner, I do not enjoy cleaning. Cleaning is a royal pain in the ass, and it has to be done consistently, and there are several other things that I would rather be doing. So I would rather not have the idea that, should I come to live with a man, cleaning the house is my job and he is doing me an enormous favor when he picks up his dishes and there isn’t any mold in his man-cave, which must be kept separate from my fastidiously clean ladies’ sitting room.

Okay, rant for the day over!

Now, about Greek Guy. We are having a cooking dinner date on Sunday, since there’s going to be a storm, which is not really ice skating weather. I might have sex with him. I don’t know. Maybe it turns out that he’s a demon in bed and he’s very quiet about it. This is probably not the case because he still can’t kiss. But this is going to be my way of taking him for one last test drive before I decide whether or not to keep dating him. Maybe once he has sex with me he’ll get bored. Who knows? But it seems less likely, going by today’s text: ‘Hi, still at work. Will call you from home. Kisses. :)’ I don’t think A ended a text that cutely in the entirety of our relationship, and I don’t know if I’m a little bothered because I have issues and it’s all ‘OMG I can’t handle emotions and kindness’ or it’s actually that I’m just not that into him. I’ve never been in the position that the other party is into me and I’m not so into them. It’s usually either the other way around, or there’s a sort of a mutual emotional disregard or indifference. Maybe I will learn something from this.

But in the meantime, I have a little shopping to do, side dishes to plan, and a make out party to attend on Friday. No, Greek Guy is not invited or being filled in. Is this cheating? I don’t think we have an exclusive relationship, so I guess not, but if we do get exclusive I guess we’ll have to talk about it.

I picked out an outfit for the party, but I think I need new shoes. And maybe a new top. And I’m broke. To the thrift shop! But not tomorrow, tomorrow is writing day.

Good night all!

Sincerely yours,


What To Do About Dating

4 03 2013

Okay, so I went on another date with Greek Guy. He’s so sweet, and gentlemanly, pays for everything (I think he’s spent more money on me on two dates than A did in the entirely of our relationship. Granted, I’m pretty sure Greek Guy has way more money, but still), and he seems to love to listen to me talk.

What’s the problem, right?


I’m…not that attracted to him. I love the way he treats me, but it’s pretty obvious that he wants to have sex with me, and I don’t think I want to. Part of it is that he really can’t kiss. He moves his lips around in a weird way, like he’s trying to eat my mouth and his facial hair bugs me and it’s odd. I mean, when he moves in to kiss me I’m like ‘Oh god not again’, and I don’t think that’s a reaction I should be having to a man who is treating me well and spending money on me and trying to build a relationship with me. Can you grow chemistry with someone? Because right now it’s like ‘He’s sweet, he’s kind and I am getting no kind of tingle from him whatsoever’.

I mean, I’m glad I’ve even managed to continue dating, it’s a great experience, but I’m going to do a comparison to when I first saw BB. I spotted BB across the room and my whole body went ‘Oh, yes, I want that!’ I saw Greek Guy and I went ‘Oh, good, he’s normal looking.’ Fine, so you don’t have instant sparks with every date. But I don’t feel any, at least not yet. Maybe it’s because I’m still all enthralled with BB. I’m overthinking this. Heaven forbid I just roll with anything and enjoy it. We have vague plans to go ice skating later this week, and since it involves physical activity and not food I might just get a little romance buzz. We shall see.

In other news, Big C is both opening for a band (whose name escapes me, it’s like Vertical Mongoose or something, they’re English and the drummer is hot, apparently) and playing base for them too, so that’s super exciting for him, and I can’t wait to see him play. He says I’ll like the music. (And maybe hit on the drummer. I am weak.)

Also, if you slice potatoes into circles, brush them with a little olive oil and grill them on a grill pan, that is better than french fries. Mmm. If you couldn’t  tell, I’m hungry.

Geez, this post is all over the place. Hmm.

Oh, I learned that lavender oil and water will cleanse my hair without drying it out-yay for info on curly hair. I’m growing out the relaxer in my hair and keeping it natural. I have very curly hair, and I think I should embrace it. And stop wearing it in a ponytail everyday, it’s getting tired. I’d love to try something like this for a night out:

How romantic!


But I might want to actually practice, say, braid my hair first. I can’t even do that. It’s just that I have so much damn hair to begin with it’s almost overwhelming. Maybe I should cut it.

Also, for some reason one of my peppers has no seeds. And stupid WordPress won’t let me put a picture of it, but it’s just weird.

Just for fun. a list of things my silly incorrigible dog got a hold of today:

1. A sneaker sock.

2. A black sock.

3. A charm.

4. A nickel.

5. A burger wrapper. (Which he ate.)

6. A paperclip.

Tomorrow, my attempts on commentary on sexism in commercials.

Sincerely yours,


Going Out, and Falling Down

17 02 2013


I went out last night, and it was fun-not an epic night by any means, but fun. I am also now totally broke, ha ha.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a night out if I didn’t do something socially awkward. First I sent BB a dirty message, because heaven forbid I relate to any man without some sort of sexual overtone. And then I tried to talk to this guy and he turned his back on me after essentially ignoring my question. Talk about embarrassing, and then I completely freaked out, of course.

Big C was all ‘Yeah, you need to relax, your guard is so obviously up that it puts people off.’ I am so frustrated with myself I feel like kicking something.

I am a lot better than I used to be, but I realize that I’m…almost never really relaxed. I’m not as constantly on edge and wired as I used to be, but I’m not comfortably socially, and I’m wary of unfamiliar situations or anything overly stimulating. I also don’t know how to just…be. Just enjoy what I’m doing. Big C is all ‘Don’t make meeting people a goal and just be out.’ I think it’s part of the ‘don’t take fulfillment from sex and being valued by other people’ thing. (A said that too, but I’m more willing to take it from Big C because he’s not crazy and less judgmental about it.) But it’s a lot harder than it sounds. It’s been so ingrained that I don’t really know how not to do it. It also probably doesn’t help that I have no fulfillment in anything in my life right now.

Losing weight sort of makes me happy, but not really. The last twenty pounds seem a long way away. I have no job, and while I love my writing I wonder if I’ll ever be able to make it part of my life. I like my ceramic class, but I don’t know if that’s fulfilling. It’s entertaining for a few hours and then I’m down again. I don’t like these down swings. I just feel defeated.

Then there’s the whole I have no social circle thing. I mean, I have Big C. That’s it. I would like to make some friends but I am crap at meeting people, social situations stress me out, apparently I don’t give off the most welcoming vibes anyway, and I have a hard time maintaining relationships.

Big C says that part of the problem is that while everyone has leaps to make and needs to fulfill, I have a lower starting point due to my past. It’s like a lot of other people are starting from even ground and I’m starting from a well. If other people miss their leaps, they just land flat-they can still keep walking. If I miss, and feel down, I plummet, and so I have to climb all the way back up before I can keep going again. And I hate to say ‘it’s not fair’ because life is not fair, it’s not as if there’s some set of rules and some cosmic force is cheating in order to continually keep screwing me over. It just is what it is. (I hate that phrase by the way. I always have. It never makes anything clearer or better, it’s just like a shrug and it makes me want to kick something.)

In case it seems like I’m whining (and honestly, if it does, I don’t really care) let me try to give an example of how I feel. I have to take pills in order to function, because otherwise I can’t go outside of my house without panicking.  Any prolonged social situation either exhausts me or stresses me out. Even if I’m enjoying myself, by the next day I’m raw and I have to keep myself isolated. If I am approached by a strange man my first thought is how I can get away, just in case. I have very little sense of fulfillment in my life, and I am simultaneously very lonely and misanthropic. I have a hard time with appropriate social interaction. I am never relaxed, not really, the unsettled feeling never goes away even if I’m sitting still, and I’m always ready to react. I don’t trust and am sometimes desperate for a connection. I am sometimes inappropriately sexual, ashamed of my sexuality, and I still occasionally think about hurting myself. Not out of any real desire to die, just out of exhaustion. You threaten suicide or hurt yourself and then they lock you up for a little while, keep you from the world. I feel inadequate and frustrated and like I was born without the proper instruction manual. It seems like there will never be any end to this. And I’m so tired.

The worst part is that if I don’t come to love and embrace myself, how can I ever expect anyone else to do it? Big C does, but he’s not what I would call a typical man in any case, and it’s not like that with us anyway. My mother does, but she’s my mother. That’s about it. I wish I could just go away.

Sincerely yours,