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Practicing My Prose: Story 1, The Kiss

8 Jan

In an effort to practice my prose, particularly first person narrative, I am going to be telling some stories. Here is the first story, chosen from a list of questions posed to me, simply because it was the easiest to write about. Here is the story of my first kiss (a true story, I might add)…

 

The Kiss

 

I’m a smart girl. I’ve always been a smart girl. I know good and well what and where this could lead to, and that is exactly why I’m doing it. If anyone asks me tomorrow or next week, I’ll play none the wiser. Maybe I’ll even believe myself then, but for now, please. I pull out the small, but quite heavy, Nokia from my pocket. The Nokia that isn’t even mine. Half a pre-paid minute worth of text is all it takes.

“u left ur tape in my car…im driving around…do u want me to bring it to u?”

Yes. I’m driving around in a car I’m not even licensed to drive.

Nothing good happens after 2 am, they say. The same must be true after 10 pm in high school.

Midnight. It’s midnight and I’m texting a boy because I want to return his tape. No, not that. I’m texting a boy because I want to spend time with a boy. I’m driving around in a car I’m not even licensed to drive at midnight texting a boy because I want to return his tape. But these things haven’t turned into anything other than time before, so I shouldn’t hope for anything this evening. But it’s midnight. And I am. And I shouldn’t. But I am.

The Nokia chirps. “ok just come in when u get here”

Just come in? Just come in? What does that mean – just come in? What am I even walking into? I pop a cherry jolly rancher in my mouth. Dan, 19, from Charlotte, NC told Cosmo that the best kiss he ever had was when the girl who kissed him had just eaten peaches. Peaches isn’t something you eat at midnight. No. Cherry jolly rancher will have to do. I pull into his driveway and turn off my car. As I open my car door, I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice him coming out of the front door. Black t-shirt. White gym shorts. This is already nervewracking enough without having to go into someones parent’s house, a house I’ve never been in. I grab the tape and I get out of my car and walk over to his doorstep.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much. You?”

“Oh…just driving around being bored. Here’s your tape.”

“Thanks. Want to come in?”

Well, I hadn’t planned on coming inside, but don’t mind if I do. Maybe I hadn’t planned, but I sure had hoped.

“Sure.”

The house is dark and unnvervingly quiet. More than likely because it’s midnight. It’s midnight and I’m in a boys house. A boy that I like. Because I needed to bring him his tape.

Without any other place to sit, we sit on his bed. And we talk. I’m sure we talk, but the words aren’t sticking and I’m not even sure what we are talking about. But I know we are talking. I initiate contact first: a simple poke to his side, but it’s plenty enough to get the reaction I needed. He flinches. I do it again. His body bows in ticklishness.Then, with more voracity than I, he grabs my sides and begins tickling me. I shriek and laugh and roll and when he stops I’m on my back, each others various body parts intertwined in a way that results from a tickle fight. I love being tickled.

My laughter dissolves into a smile as I look up at him. We stare at each other for an eternity. Jolly rancher help me. He brings his face close to mine and slowly kisses my upper lip.

Is that how it is supposed to happen?

He makes his way down one side of my mouth and across the bottom. This doesn’t feel right. This doesn’t feel right at all. Is this really what people get so excited over? I open my eyes as he moves around my mouth and I stare up at the ceiling.

 

Wait. My eyes are open. I close them abruptly and squeeze them tight.

I feel his hand underneath my tank top, working its way toward my butter-yellow bra and my 17-year-old chest. This moment went from mediocre to uncomfortable really fast. What do I say? Should I let him keep going? As he reaches the top of my lip and the bottom of my bra, I pivot away and teasingly say “Get out of there!”

He pulls back quickly and apologizes. Oh no! I didn’t say it teasingly enough! Get out of there? Who says that?

I’m mortified. And that kiss was terrible. Or at least completely different than I thought kisses should be. Maybe Dan from North Carolina was right. That sure wasn’t anything like peaches.

I get into my car and reflect. I must’ve said something to get here, but what? I pull out the not-mine-Nokia and think of what to say as I drive the few blocks home.

I’m going to get teased so much when I tell my friends what I said. I just won’t tell them. It shouldn’t be hard to keep that detail hidden.

Oh, but it was…

fin

 

Did you feel any emotions when reading my story and if so, what emotions? Were you able to visualize the situation? Did you feel connected to the narrator (me)? Did I capture the awkwardness of youth? How do you feel that I didn’t include any names? Did you feel anything was too vague or had too much detail?

My goal here is to improve my writing, so feedback is extremely appreciated!

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Don’t Be a Victim: An Ode to Personal Responsibility

25 Jul

Let’s talk about a dicey subject.

Victim shaming.

Often considered an integral piece of rape culture,  victim shaming is generally known as any behavior, attitude, or stance that places blame on the victim for the incident or causes the victim to feel ashamed of his or her actions secondary to blaming the incident on the victim’s actions. As a part of rape culture, statements such as “she shouldn’t have been wearing that” or “she shouldn’t have drank that much” are common ways to propogate feelings of rape being a result of a woman’s actions, instead of that of a man’s (I’m using these particular pronouns because of the statistical frequency of rape to particular genders, however, I do very much acknowledge the presence of rape of men by men or by women – I’m not forgetting you fellas, I promise!).

It is important that we help to eliminate this brand of propogation of rape culture by teaching men and women what consent is and means and understanding that blaming anyone but the perpetrator is not okay.

I have, however, seen a lot of social media coverage of things that are basically telling anyone to throw caution to the wind. Run naked and drunk through that dark alley into that windowless van, young girl! Rape isn’t your fault!

Well, no. Rape isn’t your fault, and I do not want anyone thinking that I am suggesting that. I’m going to continue to use this scenario for explanatory purposes. If you do, in fact, run naked and drunk through a dark alley in a windowless van, this is not an excuse to rape you. It is not a reason to rape you. You should not be raped in this situation, or ever. (It is an excuse to provide you with a warm blanket, and probably call the police because a safe place for you to go is needed.) I am also not, in any way, attempting to make any person feel ashamed of whatever experiences they have been or will go through.

BUT…(yes, there is a but)…don’t be a victim.

A dark alley probably isn’t a great place to walk, regardless of your gender, how you are dressed, or your degree of sobriety. Getting into a strangers vehicle is not a great idea regardless of your gender, how you are dressed, or your degree of sobriety. Doing these things while drunk and naked is an even worse idea regardless of your gender or how you are dressed.

These things are unneccessary risks, especially in combination.

What it all comes down to is this:

The only person responsible for you…is you.

Please. Take personal responsibility for yourself. Be accountable for your actions. Be safe.

I recently saw a social media post about a girl who got hit by a car because she was playing Pokemon GO explaining that it was the game’s fault. There is no personal responsibility in that statement. It is terrible that she got hit by a car, and we would all hope that the driver in that situation was paying attention and had enough time to come to a complete stop without hitting the girl, but the fact of the matter is that this girl needs to understand that in the future, she should decrease the risk level she is taking by being more proactive in her own environment.

If you have done an acceptable degree of prevention, whatever the incident, and the incident still occurs, then at the very least you can say I did my part. It isn’t my fault. Because the last thing anyone wants to feel is that feeling of maybe I could have done this differently, or this, or that…The less someone has to face these feelings after a rape, the closer they are to healing.

We can tell everyone all the time from a young age until we are blue in the face that “no means no” or “lack of communiction is not consent” but just as it is with anything, variation in the human element means that rape will always happen. It is a lonely world out there, and I can only hope that there is someone out there that cares about you, but at the end of the day, we are all selfish human beings with our own needs to take care of.

That’s okay. We also try to be decent humans to each other and support each others interests.

But if you aren’t being responsible, there is no guarantee that someone else will be responsible. Empower yourself. Take the precautions needed when you need to take them. It’s okay.

What do you think of personal responsibility? What is something that you do to take charge when you’re feeling unsafe in your environment?

Aside 5 Mar

Confession time:

I want to walk into a house and instantly feel an overwhelmingly ominous presence (because it’s haunted).

Aside 17 Feb

Confession time:

I just want someone to kiss me, touch my boobs, and tell me I’m pretty.

30 Days of Online Dating: Day 30 (The Final Day)

29 Dec

Dearest Readers,

I thank you so much for joining me on this 30 day adventure. I’ve learned some about myself, a lot about dating sites, and I challenged myself to do some things that were terrifying, even if it was behind a virtual smokescreen.

Alas, we’ve reached our last day, and it isn’t bittersweet at all!! This has been a lot of work, without any tangible pay-off. Now that I don’t have much in the way of new things to fill you in on, I’ll do a recap of the last 30 days along with some highlights

Day 1: driven to quiet desperation by discovering a someone got a someone, I joined HowAboutWe.
Day 5: I got asked out by a guy who seems pretty much perfect, except for location
Day 21: No more potential matches
Day 22: I wrote about orgasms
Day 28: 1 more potential match
Day 29: a superintendent showed interest, but he lives in Glenwood Springs

Messages Sent: 7
Messages Received: 0
Conversations: 3
Intrigued by:
66 
Mutual Intrigues: less than 10, of which even fewer resulted in any kind of conversation

Things learned (general): It is exhausting to search and search and message people and then get nothing in return
Things learned about myself: a lot, but mostly that I still don’t like the idea of dating and meeting strangers…I’m good at relationships, but the part the proceeds the relationships
Something I challenged myself to do: message people first, openly tell people their pictures are cute

Most bizarre/shocking: Still has to be longrod21 with his wanting to hook up. There are better places for that *cough*tinder*cough*

 

Number of dates: 0

 

I won’t be deactivating my profile. If I remember correctly, you can still message people now without paying. I won’t however, be actively participating (meaning I’m not going to be browsing men, but rather, just responding if someone reaches out).

What are your thoughts? What should I do next (and don’t say Tinder!)?

The Cultural Significance Of Black Hermione

23 Dec

While I don’t think that JK Rowling’s reaction means that Hermione being black is or is not canon, I do think that Hermione could very well be black without any stretch of the imagination.

 

The fact of the matter is Black girls deserve to see themselves as magical, intelligent, and central in their own stories.

Source: The Cultural Significance Of Black Hermione

30 Days of Online Dating: Day 23

21 Dec

I must say that I really wish flux capacitor guy wasn’t in New Mexico. I’m not quite sure how to skirt around the long distance issue, but I’m enjoying chatting with him (even if the conversation isn’t quick back and forth).

I’m also looking at some potential self-sabotage. I briefly mentioned it yesterday, and I’m not quite sure if that is what is going on or not. I keep looking at guys in the area and for some reason I can’t click “intrigued” or I can’t message them. I can’t tell if it’s because I have difficulty wrapping my head around getting a boyfriend, if going on a first date is just terrifying, or if there is really a reason behind my lack of interest. There is definitely a possibility for that last one, which would be the best reason. I look through these profiles, and with some guys I just have difficulty seeing myself with them. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll keep you updated.

Messages Sent: 1
Messages Received: 1 
Conversations: 1

About the guy: 26, Environmental Engineer with a masters, 6’4″ *swoon*,  he says his perfect Sunday ends with “nuzzling with a honey badger”, secretly wants to be “a flux capacitor”
His date: How about we…Skype
My reservations: He lives in New Mexico :(


Intrigued by:
6 (almost exclusively just picture “likes”) – had to perform a search for these guys
Mutual Intrigues: 0

Things learned (general): the number of bisexual men is minimal (unsure why that is)
Things learned about myself: I’m banking on cute cat guy because cute cat guy is cute, even though he was like the first guy I was intrigued by…
Something I challenged myself to do: nothing today, but something tells me I should probably try to connect with someone that my brain is telling me not to…

Most bizarre/shocking: nothing to report today, either…maybe that I’m making some long distance considerations that are probably unhealthy? *sigh*

 

Want to follow my dating excursion? Go here to begin the journey:30 Days of Online Dating