We take you away from our “regularly scheduled” Sunday Funday post (they’re coming, I promise) and instead have a short note for Coach.
Dear Coach,
Please, please do something. This is painful to watch and people are angry. I’m getting pretty upset myself and you know that I’ll support you until you give me a reason not to. Don’t give me a reason, please. DO SOMETHING.
Sincerely, Deidree–a devoted fan of the program and season ticket holder
So I was out for Saint Patrick’s Day with Blake and Seth, because everyone else decided they couldn’t possibly go out on a Thursday. Not even for Saint Patrick’s Day… When did I become the alcoholic in the group? I need everyone I hung out with in college back. Steph would have come, but she was at Cam’s father’s wedding. I’ll gloss over the fact that planning your wedding on Saint Patrick’s Day (especially when it’s not your first and it’s a Thursday) is a bit weird, and simply state that she’s forgiven because it was a more important commitment.
Anyway, later in the night, Seth and I met up with my friend (through Larissa) Dezi. He was in a much bigger group than mine, but I don’t know if the bigger group really matters. Blake had gone home to sleep at this point. He was almost to the point of everyone else, but at least he came out.
So, while Seth and I were hanging out with Dezi and friends, Dezi, some of his male friends, and I were talking about March Madness. All men… and I…
I was talking a while ago about Larissa’s flirting habits and I mentioned that all I have as a manly interest is college football. That’s not quite right as you’ve now heard me go on and on and on about March Madness.
I love college sports.
I love them with so much devotion and support even if the teams I like aren’t the most nationally recognized ones. College sports are about unwavering fandom. Fair weather fandom is for the truly uninvested.
So you can imagine my surprise when one of Dezi’s friends interrupted our March Madness discussion with “Well, this is intimidating.”
Dezi and I both stared at him, so he elaborated, “The person most vocal about the tournament is a pretty girl. It’s intimidating.”
This is where it gets confusing to me.
Larissa’s manly interests, which are often portrayed as exaggerated lies, are seen as cool or hot. Her exaggerations attract men to her.
Meanwhile my very real and legitimate love of college football, well all sports, but mostly college football is either ignored or brushed off. Something I never lie about seems to turn men off.
Does it have nothing to do with being a turn off? Is it really just intimidating?
I don’t think I’m intimidating at all (or not any more than a girl who claims to wield a gun, drive a cool car, and play a mean game of Halo all while drinking beer and all in one day).
I have a lot of faults. Like my incessant rambling. Or my perpetual state of being five to fifteen minutes late because I want to look absolutely amazing. Or my overly emotive hand gestures that knock drinks over. Not to mention all of my “grass is greener” insecurities. And I could go on and on and on about these things. And this doesn’t even get into the weird stuff, like my need to step on planes left foot first.
My point here is, I’m not intimidating. I’m normal. Just plain ordinary normal.
So if men find me intimidating, here is what I want to say to them.
Dear men,
I am not intimidating at all. Here’s why:
I have to step on planes left foot first to conquer my crippling fear of crashing. I ramble more than anyone you have ever met. If I tell you I have a story, you better have at least twenty minutes to devote to it (more if it’s a long story). Sometimes I think way too much before I process everything I want to say and I want to get it out, so I just start blabbering on, only to realize ten minutes later that there’s a Mexico, New York. I like college sports. My favorite music also includes bubblegum pop from the nineties. I like to play tennis and go running; I’m also not very talented at either. I have a bad habit of running late, overestimating available time, and underestimating arrival time. I over pack for everything. I will borrow your clothes and you may never see them again; you’ll have to prepare for that. Sometimes, I wake up looking like a raccoon in the mornings. I love cheesy things like mini golf and bowling. When something is really, truly funny, I will laugh about it for twenty minutes… at least. I expect people to keep their plans, or have a good reason for canceling/rescheduling. If different parties’ adjustments to these plans conflict, I will go out of my way to make it convenient for everyone (even at an inconvenience to myself). I want to travel the world, but I don’t really have the time or money right now. And I’m secretly (or maybe outwardly) terrified of ending up all alone because all my friends are getting married…
So as you can see, even though this is a short list of my quirks, it’s a notable one. And one that proves I’m hardly intimidating.
I’m one of the friendliest people you will ever meet, so just walk up to me. You’ll at least enjoy talking to me.
And you finding me intimidating hurts me more than it hurts you. You probably have no idea…
Work on that.
Sincerely, Deidree
Well, recruitment starts tomorrow and I am so excited! I’ll be driving up really early in the morning to be there by 8 am. It will be a nice early morning. But, it’s alright because I’ve been looking forward to it.
Anyway, other than that I haven’t got much content for the day, so here’s another letter. This is a hard one, but since I don’t have many readers, it shouldn’t matter too much. This isn’t as fluffy a letter as the last time and is addressed to someone who caused me pain. If you wanted to read the last letter I wrote to my best friends, you can go here: To My Best Friends As for this letter, it’s to an ex-boyfriend named Brody. I know I mentioned a Brody in passing the other day, but rest assured they are two different people. It’s just an unfortunate circumstance that they have the same name because the current Brody is pretty much awesome. Anyway, this is to the old Brody and something he needs to hear.
Brody,
So I said I would write you an email about the issue I still have with you and I guess this is that email.
It pretty much all stems from this statement, I think: “But, I didn’t really care enough/value you enough…” Add whatever you like to the end of that, you’ve said it plenty of times and clearly know how to make a girl feel wanted, or you know, feel as though she has a legitimate right to existence. But I’ve already come to accept the fact that when it comes to you, I’m no more important than say a computer or a shoe. Actually, that statement always makes me feel less important than a shoe, so I’ve taken my ability to breathe, function, or have feelings in stride.
I feel like I can say this to you now, because I took a long time to think about it and it only sort of stings now. It’s really something you should consider, not leading people on when you are only sort of humoring them. I know your biggest concern is yourself, everyone’s is, but there is always a point where you have to be aware of other people. And, quite honestly, if I were a different type of person, well, I’ll let you sort all that out for yourself. Rather, I’m going to go through all of this with you, though I honestly don’t know how you’ll react, but I’m on this communication kick, so here goes nothing.
First, what you did on my birthday was pretty low. You’re out celebrating the birthday of the girl you’re dating and she gets sick, what should you do? Leave her to somehow figure out a way to get up her stairs and into her bed and not get sick all over herself? Yup, sounds good to me. I spent my night sleeping in an itty bitty bathroom, when, if nothing else, that’s really the one time you should take care of a person you’re supposed to care about. I’ve done it for moderate strangers, so I honestly can’t see one reason you wouldn’t have kept me with you other than that previously mentioned quote, but that is beside the point. I should have realized a lot of things the night of my birthday, but I’ve already come to terms with my part of all this, and furthermore a drunk/sick person can’t necessarily be expected to think rationally.
Second, given the above, you were probably pretty aware of the whole lack of care and value on your part, so all of that was unnecessary. In fact, all of January was unnecessary. I also did not particularly appreciate that you waited until I was angry enough to call you. Or that you wouldn’t even see me. I certainly feel that I at least deserved to be seen for all that, but again that goes back to the whole care and value thing. Regardless, since you were the one who wanted to get rid of me, you should have put forth the effort to do so. I still stand by that.
That’s pretty much the background information leading up to what really bothered me, so I’ll continue.
What resulted from your month of tossing my emotions around every way was me getting increasingly paranoid. I will admit I already had a certain level of paranoia or clinging towards men, but those are my own personal set of issues that really doesn’t concern you, nor do I necessarily feel that I need to justify them to you. The point is, getting jerked around for a month made me terrified about any lack of contact from other men. And you know that whole situation with the next guy, so I won’t get into it. However, freaking out the minute you don’t hear from a normally attentive person for a couple of days is totally wrong and uncalled for, but it ended up being a correct suspicion. Things shouldn’t work like that. And I don’t feel as though it was fair to put me through that in addition to dealing with a separation.
Really, though, all of this pales in comparison to the rest of the semester. Suddenly, everything became this one-up game to you. Anything I was happy about, you had to squash into mediocrity. Anything I was terrified about, you glossed over like it was no big deal, because everything was coming up roses for you. And then you belittled me constantly. That’s no way to be friends.
The point of belittling that bothered me most goes back to me feeling like a shoe to you. I am a woman, a person, a human being, not an object. I was all of those things before I met you and I still am after having known you. Yet, despite this, you once told me that in your mind I am yours and will always be yours? I’m sorry, but if you tell someone you don’t want them, they definitely don’t belong to you anymore (if they ever did). And despite all of this, you had the gall to tell me that in some fucked up way, you love me? And then you made me worry that I was only capable of screwed up, wholly inadequate abandonment love. I’m sure you can’t even imagine how it feels to only have people who’ve left you tell you that they love you. And then they leave you to wonder what on earth is wrong with you that you can only be loved when you’re left behind. You can’t tell someone you don’t care for them or value them and yet, you love them. It doesn’t work that way. And because it doesn’t work that way, you definitely cannot be offended at the fact that they lived their life before they met you or that they lived it afterward. Honestly, I still don’t understand why it matters to you how many men I’ve kissed or seen or dated. Furthermore, I don’t understand what right you have to dislike the people I decide to date. If you can admit that you should have treated me better, than I don’t understand how you can dislike people who treated me decently enough. Like Evan, for example, who I dated long before you. I don’t know if it’s really fair to dislike him if he came around before you did and cared enough about me in whatever sad way it ended up. Yet you said you hated him. That’s not fair, and you know it.
And despite all of this, you text me to get help for a theme party costume, prefacing it with “I don’t know if you can help me, but…” knowing full well that I would take offense at being thought incapable of dressing for a theme party. And honestly, you just continued to pop up whenever you were the furthest thing from my mind. For not caring about me, you wanted to hear from me a lot. That’s why I returned your sweatshirt, I wanted to cut ties for a while. And then you texted me while I was at camp too. It was just too much.
But I’ve had my time with ties cut and I got over pretty much everything. Except this: you can’t lay a claim on or love someone you don’t value or care about. Or rather, you can, but it doesn’t make sense and you shouldn’t. And that’s the sad difference between you and I. If I had said I loved you, you would have either laughed or cringed, but either way, you would have thought me a fool. You actually do say it to me, and I feel only pain and self loathing. That’s not fair.
So that’s pretty much it. I wanted to be friends, but only I’ve really made an effort to be friends, and I am tired of having to be the one to continually make efforts with everyone. Honestly, I’d just feel better with some explanation and if we are only Scrabble friends, rather than actual friends, I guess that’s that, even if we did have fun. Or, maybe it’s better if we’re not friends, I don’t really know.
Anyway, with all of this, really you should be able to work things out with Hannah, since you actually care for and value her as a human being, and not as a shoe. And if there’s some way you can make her understand that she could be a shoe, I’m pretty sure she’d be less controlling. On the other hand, maybe she’s controlling of you so she doesn’t become a shoe. Really, it’s none of my business, but there are my thoughts on it. As I said, if nothing else, you’re persistent and steadfast when it comes to what you want, so if you set your mind to this relationship working out in your favor, I’m sure you can make it happen.
And, yup, that’s pretty much everything.
Sincerely, Deidree
So I was feeling pretty bad about the cop-out post I gave yesterday, in which I only gave an update on September fourth. Later on in the day, I was browsing through some blogs and found a challenge where you write thirty letters in thirty days. Since I know that a daily update is fairly boring (especially when I don’t have football scores to update and I can only mention that the job search is still going), I thought it might be interesting to write some of these letters when I can’t think of any specific content. This is two-fold: first, ta da! Content! Second: Everyone can learn more about me, my life, and the people in it. And since I have so many readers, I’m sure this is high on their priority list. I won’t necessarily be following the whole write thirty letters in thirty consecutive days thing, since I don’t feel like I will be that low on content. These are more filler days. So the thirty days I can’t think of something, I’ll write a letter… Unless there’s a football score, then you might get another “September fourth” type post.
If today were a September fourth type day, I would tell you I’m in the process of buying a suit…
As you can tell, today is a letter day.
Dear Keith, Steph, and Bree:
I don’t know if my phone is broken or what, but I wish you all would call me or write me back. I could really use a best friend right now, and I don’t know where you all are. Really, really I need one of you.
Now, here are my individual notes in this letter.
Keith, I’m so happy that you have a job. It’s just not the job I was expecting for you. I hope you get back on your feet soon and do all the amazing things I know you can do. You’re a shining star and you need to start shining again. Also, I miss you and I’m sorry I keep killing you in Oregon Trail–it’s not on purpose.
Steph, I can’t believe you’re all done with your GRE! I’m anxiously awaiting the decision on the rest of your life plan. I hope you solve your homelessness soon, though I suspect it’s proportionately related to the life plan. I miss you and we need a girls’ night asap.
Bree, When are your finals done? I can’t believe how far you’ve come in Nursing school! You are always amazing and I am always impressed by you. I miss you tons.
Sincerely, Deidree
And this has been the first of thirty letters.
Help! I'm Post-Grad... 