Know how I know you've been creeping my Facebook page? My intense mobile game of Candy Crush (or numerous other puzzle games of said nature) gets interrupted by an alert of you adding me as a Facebook friend... and once I check my Facebook (after losing my game lives) I see the notice has magically disappeared. To make sure I didn't just dream the scenario... or had some sort of glitch with my phone, I check my e-mail, and ohhhhp! there it is! "*ParanoidChick* added you as a friend!"
Slick... dumbass. Why don't you just go ahead and peep a few of my instagram joints? You'll get a bigger kick out of those, considering that entire thing is public... move I specifically performed for the viewing pleasure of people like you. Enjoy! (And no, I'm NOT interested in your HUSBAND. We're friends. We talk. We enjoy traveling and have traveled to the same places and I fucking babysat your kid for a week! WE HAVE THINGS IN COMMON. Get over your goddamn paranoia... YOU LIVE IN TEXAS! I want nothing to do with that)
But this post isn't about paranoid chicks who think I'm some whore trying to get with their man... no, I have sufficient experience with that to handle the ugly feelings within a few days of the incident. I'm used to girls hating me or misjudging me as a slut. I'll feel sad about it for a few days... then only recall a bad incident on exceptionally bad days.
And guys? Well, I've had my bad incidents with them. They've insulted me with many synonyms for "slut," but always out of frustration... because I WON'T get with them. These incidents don't make me sad... they make me angry.
Guys I like? They're of the opposite view-- they always think I'm too prudish... too good-girl.
This had always been the norm... up until recently.
For the last few months, I've dealt with one guy I really, really like... who now I'm pretty sure dislikes me... almost passionately... because he thinks I'm a druggie whore. Not only am I easy, but apparently also heavily into drugs.
While I should probably be normal and let this roll off my back... just forget this guy exists and MOVE ON... this fucked up judgement of me has me pretty messed up... it has been eating away at me... HARD.
For one, I have never participated in anything that could REMOTELY be considered slutty in his presence-- he hasn't even seen my exposed calves, for crying out loud. I don't understand where he goes off and thinks I'm a hoe... how? HOW? I'm closer to resembling a serial killer than a slut based on my behavior. Where is he finding the men who can say they've done anything with me?
When I'm near him, I am all about him... all I need to do is melt at his feet.
The druggy part also throws me for a loop. When he first met me, I was still sort of chubby... he didn't see me for a few months, and when we once again bumped into each other, I was at my thinnest. I'm guessing he assumes, like so many, that I dropped the weight with the help of illicit drugs.
... I don't even smoke. I haven't had a single drink in... months. The last time I was drunk was in December, and prior to that, it had been YEARS. I haven't even smoked weed... ever.
What?
Many of my friends DO smoke weed... I'm sure a good number do more than that... and while that shit irritates me, they're still my friends, and I still hang out with them. That doesn't make me a druggie.
... I'm irritated. And upset. And angry... so fucking angry.
I'm SO close to just going off on him... but I'm sure that would only garner me the superlative of "Craziest Bitch" in his world.
But no, I won't.
I will remain silent and just leave that shit alone... as much as it mortifies me to think there's a guy out there who thinks I'm such a sleazy, drug-loving chick (because nothing could be further from the truth... it is SO way off base). And what kills me most is the fact that he doesn't care to be proven wrong... he just does not care, he writes me off with complete disregard for my feelings. It's upsets me because I like him, and he thinks so poorly of me. It sucks. I'm embarrassed over how upset it makes me.
This girl can never win.
Happy Friday!
Slick... dumbass. Why don't you just go ahead and peep a few of my instagram joints? You'll get a bigger kick out of those, considering that entire thing is public... move I specifically performed for the viewing pleasure of people like you. Enjoy! (And no, I'm NOT interested in your HUSBAND. We're friends. We talk. We enjoy traveling and have traveled to the same places and I fucking babysat your kid for a week! WE HAVE THINGS IN COMMON. Get over your goddamn paranoia... YOU LIVE IN TEXAS! I want nothing to do with that)
But this post isn't about paranoid chicks who think I'm some whore trying to get with their man... no, I have sufficient experience with that to handle the ugly feelings within a few days of the incident. I'm used to girls hating me or misjudging me as a slut. I'll feel sad about it for a few days... then only recall a bad incident on exceptionally bad days.
And guys? Well, I've had my bad incidents with them. They've insulted me with many synonyms for "slut," but always out of frustration... because I WON'T get with them. These incidents don't make me sad... they make me angry.
Guys I like? They're of the opposite view-- they always think I'm too prudish... too good-girl.
This had always been the norm... up until recently.
For the last few months, I've dealt with one guy I really, really like... who now I'm pretty sure dislikes me... almost passionately... because he thinks I'm a druggie whore. Not only am I easy, but apparently also heavily into drugs.
While I should probably be normal and let this roll off my back... just forget this guy exists and MOVE ON... this fucked up judgement of me has me pretty messed up... it has been eating away at me... HARD.
For one, I have never participated in anything that could REMOTELY be considered slutty in his presence-- he hasn't even seen my exposed calves, for crying out loud. I don't understand where he goes off and thinks I'm a hoe... how? HOW? I'm closer to resembling a serial killer than a slut based on my behavior. Where is he finding the men who can say they've done anything with me?
When I'm near him, I am all about him... all I need to do is melt at his feet.
The druggy part also throws me for a loop. When he first met me, I was still sort of chubby... he didn't see me for a few months, and when we once again bumped into each other, I was at my thinnest. I'm guessing he assumes, like so many, that I dropped the weight with the help of illicit drugs.
... I don't even smoke. I haven't had a single drink in... months. The last time I was drunk was in December, and prior to that, it had been YEARS. I haven't even smoked weed... ever.
What?
Many of my friends DO smoke weed... I'm sure a good number do more than that... and while that shit irritates me, they're still my friends, and I still hang out with them. That doesn't make me a druggie.
... I'm irritated. And upset. And angry... so fucking angry.
I'm SO close to just going off on him... but I'm sure that would only garner me the superlative of "Craziest Bitch" in his world.
But no, I won't.
I will remain silent and just leave that shit alone... as much as it mortifies me to think there's a guy out there who thinks I'm such a sleazy, drug-loving chick (because nothing could be further from the truth... it is SO way off base). And what kills me most is the fact that he doesn't care to be proven wrong... he just does not care, he writes me off with complete disregard for my feelings. It's upsets me because I like him, and he thinks so poorly of me. It sucks. I'm embarrassed over how upset it makes me.
This girl can never win.
Happy Friday!
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