Fraahhhhhhdaze.

• It's Friday night...my favorite time of the week. I love Fridays because I usually have absolutely nothing to do on Saturday mornings and daytime. When I go out, I prefer to go out on Friday nights. When I was in my early-early twenties, I didn't mind working on the weekends...until I realized how awesome it was not to work on the weekends. 
• So, I have an update on my last weekend's situation. I finally called the US attorney's office as instructed to do so by the policeman I spoke to the morning after. They of course transferred me to another number who transferred me to another number (this happened three more times), and finally I talked with a person who was of actual help. The person before him told me that she couldn't find my name or case number in her files. The of-help-person told me the same... when I asked him why, he said that the officer who arrested me probably filed the paperwork under "simple assault and destruction of property" but never processed the papers and let me sleep it off in jail. He said if the officer had decided to go through with the processing, I would have heard about it by now. I asked him if there was a chance the officer would process the papers later, he said not likely. He told me to call the police department that arrested me and ask them about it and I was like, "well, I don't want to remind them." So basically, I think I got off. In a way, I wish I hadn't. I need to learn my lesson the hard way. I REALLY don't want to, but I feel like that's what it is gonna take to get me to stop being the 'village idiot' as Sawa called me.
• Furthermore, It's scary because my dad, who NEVER texts or calls me, just this morning texts me with:

Damn. Maybe he sensed something. I felt bad when I saw this. 

• It's Saturday at 5 PM now. Good afternoon! I got a bit too woozy-boozy while writing that last night and got caught up watching Kim Yuna videos and listening to Whitney Houston. I just got back from thrift store shopping with my sister who is here visiting her Chinese boyfriend. Jeebus Christ, I spent $120 all together. I got these awesome Nike shoes that my sister found but that I bought. I also scored a leather Ann Taylor skirt, Ann Taylor pants, another pair of vintage Nike shoes (which I regret buying), 2 sweaters, awesome gold-ish jewelry, Seven brand denim shorts, an American Apparel dress, another dress, another Ann Taylor skirt and blazer. Anything Ann Taylor or Express I buy is for teaching. I thought I would dress cute as a teacher but I don't. I dress horribly because I refuse to wear uncomfortable clothing (and ALL business/casual clothing is uncomfortable). 
• I just ate a big bowl of spaghetti and then I'm going to eat a Tony's pizza with a fun-sized Snickers and Twix afterwards. One of the secrets to staying skinny is eat super healthy (like BARELY any processed foods) during the week and then eat shit on the weekends.  
• I'm kind of irked with some of the people I know in Maryland. I always complain about living in Maryland because the people here are so boring. Like I haven't met a single person that I could consider a friend because they seem so.... like they think they're cool and know everything when they're just a buncha dorkos. Someone from MD can easily stumble upon what I'm writing but I could give two shits. The only people that are cooler here are the black people. I feel so appreciated by them here, not like in Atlanta where they hiss and spit at me, especially the girls with the weaves. Get over it, I have dreads. Who cares. 
• I'm procrastinating so much on applying for jobs. I know for CERTAIN that I do not want to teach in public schools in the US. I still want to teach abroad but I don't trust myself and my drinking situation in Korea (my number one choice and land of crazy drunks) even though I REALLY want to go there...and I'm too much of a pansy to go anywhere else by myself. I also thought about it and I'm going to miss my family a lot. My brother is going to get out of prison very soon and hanging out with my sisters is super fun. Gina is in Korea but that bitch is married...Sigh. I dunno what to do. Maybe I'll teach at a private school in Hawaii. That'd be SO cool. 
• I lost my ID in the furor that was last weekend. It's kind of good that I don't have it because then I can't go out. I bet I can go without it until April when I go back to ATL 
• Gonna go eat my pizza. 
• Mmmmm... I love pizza so much.
• Since I'm single now, I wonder how long I can go without finding somebody (new) to bounce on. I never go longer than like 2 or 3 months. I don't understand those people who go months or YEARS without boinking. I just don't...get...it...there's so many interesting and pretty fish in the sea. 
• Also, since I'm single now, I wish I could find a legit sugar daddy. That sounds really air-headed. But my ideal situation with a sugar-daddy would be more of like a respectful business relationship. This relationship would be a FTF situation that happens like once a month or whenever the man is in town. He would be a (single or divorced) white man at about 35-50 years old with a professional job where he must be wearing suits all the time. He has to make money because this is the only 'relationship' I would be okay with the man buying me shit and paying for me all the time...in fact, this would be necessary, hence the 'business' aspect of the relationship. I could go traveling with him for his work and all I would do is chill in the hotel room and workout in the gym. He would appreciate me and think I was charming but too young for the relationship to be anything but and I would be perfectly okay with that because chances are, his sperm is already too old to impregnate me. Eventually, I would get married and he would be super happy for me. The end.

  

  This is the oldest and ugliest I will go. Unless the man is Jewish because I have a Jewish fetish.

• I'll talk to you suckers later. Gonna be productive now. 

The Nadir of My Nights in D.C

Nadir is a word I learned from my SAT coach in high school. She was a good teacher.

So, as promised, here is what happened the night I got arrested.

I hadn't planned on going out. I had planned on staying home, getting nice and toasty on some vodka alone...vodka because it was a Saturday night and I drink vodka on the weekends.... and either do lesson plans or write on here but most likely not do any lesson plans cuz I'm a huge procrastinator.

But it just happened to be my male acquaintance's girlfriend's birthday, who, I might add turned some age over 30, and the male acquaintance I know is kinda a douchebag....and I'm so confused on why someone over 30 would date a dude like him cuz I'm almost 30 and I would never date a guy like him...boink, maybe....but not date.

Since I hadn't gone out last weekend, I felt a little....restless. And after my first attendance at the Smart Recovery meeting, I thought I had enough sense and willpower to be good and limit the drinking on a night out.

I had five goals in mind that evening:

1. Do not drink more than 5 drinks, which includes my trademark pre-drinking beverage: a 2/3 vodka/cranberry with shrunken ice cubes so that they can fit neatly in my water bottle. 
2. Do not spend more than $20. 
3. Do not be mean to my other white male acquaintance whom I always lash out simply because, well... he won't give me a chance... and if he did, he would fall under the Iroar-spell.... pussy. 
4. Do not get kicked out of the bar. 
5. In line with all those, do not get crazy.

Needless to say, only number 3 happened. 

So, I make my trademark cranberry/vodka drink to carry with me so I don't have to spend $223948234 on drinks cuz drinks in DC are fucking unnecessarily expensive. Everything was going swimmingly. I rode the Metro without a hitch. I was charming and entertaining to the people I was with: my roommate and the guy from #3. We were discussing the 'swastika' on my buddhist bracelet and shooting the shit like white people like to do. 

It was snowing...like swirling snowing cuz it was so fucking windy. By the time I unloaded myself off the Metro, I was nice and toasty but definitely 50% sober....enough to be social without uncomfortable barriers. 

We end up at the first bar, Solly's which was right across the street. It was like sardines in a can. I fucking hate PACKED bars...like really. What is SO awesome about a place that you are shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone else in the bar, it's hot as balls, I keep butting everyone with my huge bun, and it takes 30 minutes to get a drink from the bar? I would MUCH rather be at an empty bar with a bearded creepy fellow staring at me from across the bar because eventually, I will end up conversing with him and he'd be far more interesting than any other young banal idiot at the bar I was at.

So I drink one more drink and we leave to go to a reggae club. 

DING DING DING! How can I go wrong at a reggae club? Even though I'm not into reggae that much, at the moment, I'm a reggae poseur. 

We walk to the reggae bar, something that has a 'Boom Boom' in its bar name. The entire time there, I'm like 65% sober and I'm talking with a girl who is a professional boxer, and of course, I'm enthralled. Any female that is not a basic bitch and is into beating other people to a pulp for a profession is cool in my book. 

Sure enough. Right when we step into the Boom Boom Room, I can tell it's totally up my alley. The guys are all black and somewhat hot (especially the employees). The other patrons include fat and mostly ugly black and some-kind-of-hispanic girls. We are the only non-black people there. It's packed, but not that packed so I was content. The music is loud as FUCK and I'm almost tempted to ball up pieces of napkins and stuff them in my ears to muffle the sound--a tip that my sister Sawa taught me.  

I order a vodka with a splash of cranberry drink for myself and a round for the other people I was with. The three bartenders are all attractive, tall, and black. I can tell the one serving me is taken with me...and he is so attractive, he makes my stomach kinda flutter.  

**sidenote: I normally NEVER get male-attention at the bar. They are either too scared of me or just not into me. But these guys at this club were the opposite. I'm not sitting here being all conceited. Let's be real. A lot of black guys are into Asian girls. Throw in an Asian girl with non-conventional style and DREADS, and it's over. Even if I looked like this: 

the fact that I have dreads and wear funky clothes, they'd still be wanting to lick my butthole. So it's not that much of a compliment.

But anyways, I dance/move-around a little with my white roommate. The bouncer walks by. He has huge muscles. Whenever I see a guy with huge muscles and I'm intoxicated, I mime-grab his muscles. I don't know why. It's an inclination I get. *shrugs* I do that to his pectorals. 

He seems mildly amused. He asks me for my name and where I'm from. I say "it's Ira" and flash the ATL sign. (Sign #1 I'm drunk).  

Then I think I get more drunk...like 75%. I order two more drinks from the cute bartender who is beaming at me but I'm too drunk to be charming. At this point, it's drink #5 and I'm 90% drunk... this means my memory is foggy. 

I go downstairs to pee. A girl is waiting. I tell her to come in with me. We use the bathroom together and have some conversations about God-knows-what (I'm SUPER nice to girls in the bathrooms). 

Now, I'm like 15% conscious. 

I guess I was harassing the bouncer til the point where he said I had to leave. I must've grabbed my tweed coat from upstairs and meandered outside. 

There is a cop car outside. 

*something happens*

The next thing I know, the black cop is putting cuffs on me. I start flailing around. It's slippery outside so I'm slipping and sliding and yelling "Police brutality!!! Help meeeeee!" I'm laughing and screaming at the same time like a fucking crazy woman. There are people walking by looking shocked and amused. I hope to God nobody is taping me with their phones. I'm yelling at them to help me and save me from the cop. The cop is telling me "stop resisting arrest!" I'm responding with: "you're hurting meeeeee! Stoppppp! I didn't do anythiiiiiiiing!" 

Soon, I'm in a police-truck. The cop says "You're going to jail." I'm moaning and drooping my head from side to side. I remember the interior of the truck resembles a meat locker. I think, "fuckkkkkkk." I say, "I just wanna go to sleeeeep." 

The cop goes away for what seems like 10 minutes. I fall asleep in the back of the truck. The next thing I know, we've arrived at some place and the cop is dragging me into a small building. The handcuffs are hurting my wrists. There are two female cops in the building. They are looking into my face quite closely. I say, "I want to sleeeeeeep" and mutter something about my brother being in prison. At this point, I'm crying. They make me take off all my earrings and undo my shoes and confiscate my shoestrings.  

They put me in a tiny jail cell. It has a metal bunk-bed with no mattress, pillows, or blankets. There's graffiti alllll over the place and a metal toilet. I look at the toilet and mutter, "deeeeesgusting" even tough I have to pee. I flop onto the metal 'bed' and fall asleep, sobbing. 

I assume this was all around 1 am. 

The jail door opens. "M'am, c'mon out please."  

Now I'm delirious. My head feels foggy. I'm 60% sober. They ask me for my ID and start fingerprinting me. I'm rolling my head around saying "I'm a teacher.... please let me go..." The white female cop says something about my being a teacher and being responsible. She says I'm free to go and hands me a plastic bag with all my stuff in it. I stumble out. It's fucking freezing and I'm crying. 

I hail down two different police cars and ask them for a ride. They say no. 

I see a taxi cab who stops right away. I climb in and ask him how much it'll cost to get to College Park. He says it'll cost $60. I yell, "what the fuck! It normally costs $40!" He says that it's snowing so I have to pay more. I have no cash so he says he'll take me to an ATM. I withdraw $65 at some gas station. I cry all the way home and call Michael, Sara, and Anna. 

It takes FOREVER.  

I FINALLY get home at 4:30. I throw my scrunched up $20 bills at the cabdriver. He says, "but wait! I like you." I ignore him and and it takes me 4 tries to get into my front door. 

I update my blogger, wash my face, brush my teeth, and fall asleep. 

The next morning, I'm hungover. I tell my roommate where I ended up. Later, I call Michael and we break up because a guy like him doesn't deserve a hot mess like me. I hate myself. I call the "DC Police Department" who says I've been charged with "simple battery" and "destruction of property" and that someone bailed me out. I'm totally confused because NOBODY bailed me out and I definitely didn't bail myself out. 

I'm still confused and wondering if I was really charged. I'm scared to death and I don't want to pay any extra fines or jeopardize my future career.

But it's my fault. I need to do something about this. Thank GOD it wasn't a DUI though. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

This sucks. But I must say, something about it was funny. In the plastic bag labeled 'evidence' that was returned to me after I was released, I found this:

A little pebble.Why would they put this in there as though it was important to me? Hahahahaha.

Now whose dick do I have to suck to get outta these charges? :/

Single

Michael and I broke up.

This and more info on my night last night will come when I don't feel like shit.

the nights over

u know the nights over when:
it's fucking 5 am and I just got home after overpaying $6o fo a cab ride home from DC to College Park

That I just spent the last 4 hours in jail.

That I spent the last 4 hours sobbing about my brother being in jail when I was the one in jail

That I just spent the last hour being finger-printed and charged with I dunno what.

I'm never going out in DC again...my wrists are bruised. I cried a lot. SO much for my 5 goals.

I love thrift stores

One of my few hobbies is going to the thrift store. When I moved to boring-ville ie: Maryland close to eight months ago, I came with almost no clothes. Now I have a wardrobe teeming with clothes all from the thrift store. Maryland may be filled with boring people and horrible drivers...but they've got some damn good thrift stores. I absolutely adore going on a weekend day, spending 3-4 hours leafing through every article of clothing to find clothes, almost-new, that would be waaaaaaay more than what they are being sold at. It gives me a rush. I love a good deal.

Unfortunately, while I love vintage and 80s clothing, I have no idea how to wear that style. So many times, I came across a 70s or 80s looking dress/shoes/purse that some hispter bitch would pay oodles of money for, but I do not know how to wear it or market it to those worthless individuals. Gosh... if only I had the creativity. I wish I had the brains and shamelessness of Angy, my Internet friend, who would buy relatively cheap clubbing clothes at like Level X and then post pictures of herself on Ebay with her humongo nice fake titties and some schmuck would pay like 10x worth more than it is worth hoping to look like her in it. People are such suckers. Yet, she probably banked off of it. Damn Chinese people and their ability to swindle money from fools. Hey... I ain't hating. I thought it was marketing genius and wish I could do the same. She's a smart one, that Angy.

But alas, I don't know how.

So, I'll just post this picture of my most recent thrift store find.... a Christian Dior vintage (I think) V-neck sweater. It's so soft. I love it.

Ass ass ass ass

Last night as I was inspecting myself before showering, I took a long look at my ass in the mirror. It was a harsh dose of reality. I always knew my ass was Asian-flat...not fair. Half the reason I started working out was to do squats and make my butt not as flat. It worked...a tiny bit. My ass looks somewhat good in a nice cute pair of underwear. But overall, it is definitely the least attractive part of my body, other than my teeth. Looking at it yesterday kinda made me sad. =(

I always thought cuz I was Asian, there was nothing I could do about it. Apparently, though, the idea that genetics will prevent one from achieving their ideal body is not true, according to the author of a very boring, repetitive tumblr site I am following:

I need more good sites to follow on tumblr...one that isn't written by a boring white girl. I'm bad at navigating tumblr so beggars can't be choosers. Boring she may be, but she puts out a very convincing argument that lifting heavy is one of the only ways one can change the 'genetics' of their body.

Looking at my ass last night just pushed me over that line of debating whether or not I should start lifting past 8lb dumbbells. Therefore, after I put on some makeup and drink this coffee, I'm making my way over to Target to get some heavier dumbbells.

If I were a guy, a dealbreaker for me would be a tramp-stamp. Hello!? It's called a TRAMP-stamp.

Maybe my ass would look better if it were tanned.
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This guy is fucking hot. I would boink him even if he hadn't showered in a week. But he's probably gay. Men who look this good are never straight. Or smart.
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Okay...getting sidetracked. 3 out of 5 of my best girlfriends are all together right now in Seattle. Fucking assholes. While I'm going to be slaving away writing lesson plans in the most boringest state of Maryland, they're all together probably conversing about me as I am the glue that holds them together. Gosh... I am  narcissistic like that one bitch-commentator said.

But in light of their get together and the ongoing thinkings I been having about how few cool girls there are in this world and how much I miss having a good girlfriend by my side, I'm going to re-post one of my old entries.

I want a good girlfriend by my side again *sniff sniff*

Chickmance/Homance


One of the shittiest things about being a girl is making friends with other girls. Non-females would probably think the shittiest thing about being a girl is getting periods. Not for me. I rather like getting my period. The fact that it is very consistent and predictable tells me that my body is healthy and functioning correctly, keeping my hormone level steady...and it also makes condom usage less necessary and shower sex more necessary. Always a good thing. I freaking hate condoms...but that is another story.

Even though I am not really fond of males, I have a fascination with the concept of bromance. Some of my favorite movies are bromance movies... think Will Ferrel, Adam Sandler, Judd Apatow movies. If Entourage wasn't so shallow and sexist, I would probably enjoy the hell out of it too.  Lately I've been hanging out with this group of dudes who exemplify bromance and I find their relationships so interesting and enviable. The more I witness male-male behavior, the more I think their notion of friendship is superior to ours (us bitches.)

I'm pretty darn picky when it comes to choo-choo-choosing a boyfriend...not as picky for f-buddies since I have to fulfill my 'list,' but still picky. Being picky and choosing the right dude to hang out with is very important to me. I'm not going to waste time hanging with an ugly moron. Finding a cool dude is actually really easy though. I don't know why girls are always complaining about the 'lack' of good guys out there. Guys are generally way more interesting, more laid-back, smarter, and funnier than the average female. They just have more to offer. Plus they have sex with me. I think that's why I always have a boyfriend or f-buddies/lovers. I'm not talking about groups of men though. Groups of men are for men, not for Iroar. I just appreciate the company of one man at a time...unless it's an mmf 3some situation. I think I'm obsessed with 3somes.

So being that I am very picky with male company, I'm EXXXXtremely picky about selecting close girlfriends. I'm one of those people who has about 2-4 very close friends and a handful of 'friends' and a buncha acquaintances. So, since at least 1or 2 of the 2-4 slots are usually filled with a person with a penis (gay or straight), that means I only have 2 slots open for girlfriendry. The sad thing is, these slots rarely get filled because, and this is the point of this entry, it is SOOOOOOOO difficult to find cool girls or girls that fit my girlfriend qualifications.

Here are the things I look for in a girlfriend, going from least important to most:

5.  HOT & STYLISH- You know when Joey (from Friends) is looking for a roommate and he puts in his ad: "female roommate wanted, non-smoking,  non-ugly?" Well that's what I'm looking for except it's not non-smoking and non-ugly, it's non-fat and non-ugly. If you look at all my close girlfriends, not one of them is ugly or fat and DEFINITELY not a combo of the two. In fact, they're all rather attractive. I really think the company you keep reflects who you are as well. This may seem shallow, but it's not that difficult to be an attractive female. Just don't be fat, take care of your looks, and have cute hair and cute clothes. What is so difficult about that? There's so many benefits of having pretty friends, especially in night-life situations. It's very powerful to be amongst a throng of attractive women. If you are in a pack of hot women, you yourself become hotter. It's a strange and wonderful phenomenon. Also, talking about what you are going to wear and asking friends' opinions on superficial things is surprisingly fun.

4. NON-TRASHINESS-If you've ever done the following things as a female, I won't be friends with you. 

• Given a line of guys a blowjob behind the bleachers in high school.
• Slept with your girlfriend's boyfriend or ex-boyfriend.
• Show your tits and ass at a club.
• Are a groupie to athletes or other famous people. (Sisters are exempt from this... Hahahaha! Like a G-6)
• Were a stripper 
• Feign lesbianism in front of boys to turn them on. (I admit, I did do this, but I was in middle school! I think EVERY girl did this). 
• Shameless gold-digging
• Etc etc.....

3. CONFIDENCE- The shittiest thing girls tend to do to each other is think of other girls as competition. It's such a stupid and petty thing to do, yet so many girls do it. It's especially retarded since a lot of the competition circles around men and trying to get their attention. Like those bitches who stare you down when you talk to their boyfriends. STFU bitch. I don't want your man. If I did, I would have him already. When I see a pretty, cool-looking girl, I appreciate her. I don't see her as a threat to my 'man pool.' I don't even have a man pool. I have never had a conflict with a close girlfriend that was because of a dude. Whenever my girlfriend starts liking a dude, I will write off that dude as potential dick within that moment. I think girls who house that sense of 'competing against other girls' are insecure and have low self-esteem. Also, I'm also not going to sit there and cater to a girl's low self-esteem either. Like, don't come griping to me saying you're fat or ugly. If you were fat and ugly, I wouldn't be talking to you. End of story. 

2. NON-DRAMATIC-I'm very firm about the whole 'no-competition' thing amongst girls cuz when it IS there, it breeds a lot of drama. I once had a former 'girlfriend' (a girl I was friends with only because of her proximity to me and it turns out she was a flaming psycho) tell me I was the most dramatic person she met. I almost laughed myself into oblivion on that one because saying that the Iroar is dramatic is like saying that the Iroar is a short, fat Asian girl...meaning, it's blasphemous. I make it a point to avoid drama. I hate being involved in any type of conflict unless it's in a relationship with my boyfriend because relationships require SOME drama to retain passion. Sometimes unfortunate, dramatic situations are inevitable, but I try to handle those as delicately as possible. Also, don't embroil me in drama with your boyfriend. A lot of females like to discuss their relationship drama. Eff you. I do NOT wanna hear it. However, I DO want to hear about your boyfriend's penis size and sex life shenanigans. That's always fun to talk about.

1. BRAINZ-Making and learning from significant relationships is part of the meaning of life for me. People think I'm selfish because I always want someone to be able to offer me something in a relationship. Whatev. What's the point of being friends with someone who doesn't have something new to offer you? I'm mainly talking about new insights and perspectives. My ultimate goal in life is to become the best I can be (yes, like in the army). If you can help me achieve that goal, then yay, let's be friends. I'm being lame and Barney-ish, I know. The sad thing is, so many girls are caught up in stupid, trivial matters that they don't have many interesting thoughts. Like have you ever eavesdropped on a conversation occurring between stupid girls? O.M.G. Makes me want to stab at my vagina. It's almost as painful as eavesdropping on a conversation among high school male athletes. I'm not gonna lie... sometimes it is fun to discuss stupid things like celebrity life, clothing, sex, and gossipy things with my girlfriends. However, the majority of my conversations with CLOSE girlfriends run pretty deep. I can gauge the depth of my friendships based on the depth of the conversations we have. 


So those five things are a must-have for my girlfriends. Ideally, I want to have a homance/chickmance (which word is better?) group of girlfriends..like the bromance you see among guys... You know, you hang out with them and drink every night, go out, play things, yadda yadda.  I kind of do, but I rarely see these girls because they're far away (Janice, Esther, Homiko, Gina) or have asshole children (Erin..haha! I <3 Tori and Dylan). Actually, I'm pretty fortunate because I have a lot of girlfriends that will ALWAYS be there for me. I'm just currently looking for more and it's so hard to find because most girls are so boring and stupid. *sigh*


The end. 


If you don't believe me about not befriending uglies or fatties, I've rounded up some pictures of girlfriends of mine. Girl power! Gay men included too!

 

This pic is so tiny. I wish it were bigger cuz I had my awesome fro (prelude to my dreads) and I have like zilch pictures of my hair like this.... and it was my favorite hair style! 

 

Even my married-with-children friends are hot. MILFS

 

Thank god my sisters are varying degrees of attractiveness. Where's dddoy?!

 

Yes, I know my hair looks silly. I FINALLY retired the chun-li buns. I love that style so much, but yes, I am definitely too old for anything pigtailesque. When I have a daughter, her hair is going to be so funky!!! Compliments of Iroar and the exotic mixed man I will reproduce with.

 

Sorry Esther

See? I tolllllld ya!

 

Gay men also.... wonderful friends! Only the stylish hot ones that aren't bitchy queens or whores. 

Don't Rape Me

So I went to my first Smart Recovery meeting. It is waaaaaay better and less lamer than AA. I actually talked during it, mostly questioning whether I truly needed to be there and that I only wanted to learn how to moderate my drinking as opposed to omitting it from my life altogether because "a life without drinking is not a life worth living." I said that and the leader of the meeting cracked up. She was completely non-judgmental and said that that was okay, but it was important to make sure our lives didn't circle around alcohol. I see her point and I felt really comforted talking to other people with similar problems as mine and discussing our issues together (there were two other newbies there). Plus there was this beautiful, ebony 19 year old guy there that I kept gazing at and probably gave him the heeb-jeebs. Sorry Michael.

On that note, I am drinking wine tonight. God...it's amazing how little willpower I have, but you know what?? It is IMPOSSIBLE for teachers to be sober all the time. IM.POSS.I.BULL. I don't care what anybody fucking says. Our job as teachers is more stressful (albeit, more rewarding) than any other job out there...except maybe those people who have to clean out Port-a-Potties...but hey, that's why we go to college.

The meeting leader said that knowing how alcohol affects me and how I can't control it (at times..okay, most times), to drink it, I am making an INFORMED decision in choosing to drink. What wise words. I also found out that women ingest alcohol differently from men...meaning, we are much more prone to contracting an alcohol-related illness/disease waaaaay faster than man. According to the lady, "you never see old alcoholic women because they're either dead or recovered alcoholics." Goddamn. We even get the short end of the stick when it comes to that. Fucking men and all the inequalities. That's why this shit pisses me off:

Hardy-har-har. Yeah, we get into clubs for free. Woopty fucking doo. We also get raped, beaten, paid less, promoted less, less opportunities, shove babies out of our vaginas, our worth diminishes at age 30, the list goes on and on.. So fuck you you stupid wannabe-funny Internet poster, or whatever you are.

I don't know why, but the feminist in me has been coming back with a vengeance... like my old women studies days.

Me! At age 22. I wonder whether I have bigger muscles now or back then.  Allz I know is, my fake dreads in that picture look cwazy!!!!! 

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So speaking of rape, I make a daily effort to thwart all chances of me getting raped by a stranger, acquaintance, or ANYONE for that matter. It is SO unfair that JUST BECAUSE females are physically weaker than men that we are susceptible to rape. Fuck that. There's no way in HAIL I am going to open my chances of being violated just cuz of a lack of muscles.. I take every measure I can not to be raped. 

Here are some things YOU girls can do to avoid being raped. 

• ALWAYS be on the lookout, especially in unfamiliar places/when you're alone - So you know when you're walking in an empty parking lot, a shady place, or just ANYWHERE, be VERY conscious of your surroundings. Whenever I am walking in a place where someone can be lurking, I am always aware of what is going on around me. If you are distracted, rummaging around in your purse, talking on your cell phone or just generally NOT paying attention, you are an easy target for that asshole lurking in the corner. I mean, if YOU were a rapist, would you want to attack that girl who has her mace ready to go? Nope. I'm always walking around with my key between my knuckles and listening for footsteps following me. BE AWARE...like a dog whose ears perk up at any little noise.   
• Speaking of mace, ALWAYS CARRY PROTECTION-Mace is something so simple.... allz you do is point and shoot. Ideally, I want to have a gun because they would be the most effective, but I am afraid of guns. Mace costs like $5/pop, attaches to your key chain so it's easily accessible. Just cuz we don't have the physical strength doesn't mean we can cheat in protecting ourselves. Carry protection!!
• KNOW YOUR COMPANY- I think if you are a smart female and can read people, it's VERY obvious what males are capable of raping someone. I truly do not understand those women who are married to men that have 'secret lives' and didn't have a clue about it. Really?! You can't tell whether your husband was slaying people over Craigstlist or was the BTK killer? Dumbass. Even your male acquaintances... I mean, I don't have many male friends but every male I associate with would never rape someone. It's just not in their character. I have, however, met some shady characters that I think could rape people if they could get away with it...You can just READ it. If you don't have that gumption (did I use it correctly? What a funny word), you better develop it fast cuz skeezy guys are so easy to sniff out if you've got the skillz to do so.  
• ALWAYS COVER YOUR DRINK-I don't understand HOW females get drugged via their drinks.I know many girls whose drinks have gotten roofied. First of all, I think it's fucking sick how some men will roofie a girl's drink. Do you seriously not have that much charm or personality that you can't get a girl into bed? Drugging someone is almost as bad as killing them....it takes the same kind of calculating and deviousness as a serial killer. Ugh. Yet it happens OFTEN. I may be a drunken arse at bars, but I'm a drunken arse that always knows where my drink is. If I leave my drink, I leave it in the company of my friend, or I explicitly tell the people around it (stranger or acquaintance) not to roofie my drink. OR, I cover the drink with a napkin or just take it with me. I also watch the bartender like a hawk to make sure s/he doesn't put something in there and that they're pouring a generous amount of alcohol in there. Bottom line: WATCH YOUR DRINK. 

I have other tips...but at the moment, it is almost 30 minutes into my 8 hours of sleep. But that's the basic gist of how NOT to get raped. Just be conscious, be smart, and be STRONG. I've had several people tell me (after I talk about my concerns of being raped) "you are too much work to rape." First, thanks for the compliment....but like I said, I am not gonna bank on my chances of getting raped just cuz I'm weaker as a female. If you're thinking of raping me, you better be ready for a FIGHT!!! Unless you have a weapon and you promise me I'll be set free after the fact, at which point, I'll take one for my team. 

p.s. This does not mean that I have not been almost-raped. I have been.... like four times. I'll tell those stories later cuz they're fun. Stupid mostly, but a learning expurrience...most def. This knowledge doesn't come from nowhere. *flaps arms*