Sunday, Sept. 14, 2002 - 12:15 a.m.
So I'm walking to a friend's car last night after work when we passed a huge posse of guys passes us. One of them yells, "Hey! You're cute!," and proceeds to grab my ass. Of course, I scream at him, "You did NOT just grab my FUCKING ass!" And he has the audacity to so pleasantly quip back something along the lines of, "Shut up, you bitch ass cunt." Why do boys have to suck so much? WHY? If I had been a man, I would have cut him. Alas, being a woman, I just kept walking. Its amazing, the society we live in, where sometimes, a woman just keeps walking.
I was just thinking in the shower about how much I hate my job lately. They've been sticking me behind the retail counter with no escape from Road Rules Recognition. For the people that don't understand why it makes me so uncomfortable, I will give you this analogy. Road Rules is like masturbation. [note: in the next few sentences, substitute any form of the word masturbate for any form of the words Road Rules.] Its something that isn't a big deal, and its nothing to REALLY be ashamed of, but when someone (or in my case, hundreds of people) confront you about a specific instance of you being a masturbator, it is a little embarassing. Especially when total strangers are coming up to you with, "I can't believe you made THAT sound," or "I can't believe you did it like THAT. I could have done a much better job," or, "Remember when you were huffing and puffing when you were at the Citadel?" Its just slightly unnerving. Road Rules is definitely making me more...um, comfortable with myself. So anyway, the Sarah Fan Club came in last night (hi, girls!) and scared me to death. Initially, anyway. They pinned me against the sushi bar in this giggling, screaming, hugging, kissing mob of 5 or 6 really sweet, but highly caffinated females. They were so nice, and a real highlight of my evening. The one thing that sticks out in my mind about last night, though, is the 20-something times that I heard, "You look SO much prettier in PERSON." I would never say that to a person EVER. I understand that it is probably meant as a compliment, but half the time, its from total scoobs that don't ever consider entertaining the notion that I could be offended by that. Yes, I have lost the ten pounds I gained on the show, yes, I have a haircut, yes, you are looking at me face-to-face as opposed to a camel-toe shot on your television screen, but please, if you're going to tell me anything, just tell me I'm pretty! Not that I'm pretty with that little "in person" tag on the end of it! It stings!!! Okay, I'm going to post this as is for now, I've got to head off to another hell-on-earth shift behind that God forsaken counter. I will write more and edit when I get home. Until then... :)
...And I'm back! Don't mind the fact that I'm slightly inebriated. I've earned it, believe me. I honestly HATE my job. That's exactly what it is, by the way. It would be different if I walked into a situation where I felt like I was doing anything but treading water, but I'm NOT. I feel like I'm drowning half the time and the only reason why they're sticking me on retail is because half the clientel knows who I am. Damn my restaurant and its sinking ship mentality. "Ooooh, Sarah is 'down' with the 'hep cats'... we should stick her at the front door so everyone that walks in thinks we're 'cool' enough to 'hang' with the MTV crowd!!!" I have never felt more constricted in my life, and I have been an actress in Oklahoma. I realized tonight that even my restuarant is using me for my psuedo-celebrity status so they have a familiar face at the door to greet people and take their frikkin coats. I swear, guys, I'm on the verge of quitting. I HATE quitting, if not for the fact that quitters never win, for the fact that I truly enjoy being busy and having a job to show up at a few times a week. Damn, I am missing my life in Colorado right now... waiting tables, counting tips, drinking at the local bars with my buddies and my psycho boyfriend. Where has the time gone? I am miles and years away from where I used to be. I am finding it so hard to believe right now. I hope this stream of consciousness is making sense. I doubt I'll change it, simply for the artistic value.
I found myself being repulsed by, guess what, MYSELF tonight. I talked to a friend (with whom I feel I could have had a real relationship, but somehow screwed it up along the way and have turned it into a FRIENDSHIP instead) who is now on the brink of a promising relationship with a newfound partner whom I have yet to meet. I feel myself becoming girly while he is telling me this, and developing symptoms of jealousy and regret for what might have been if I had not been such a horny jerk. I never thought he would be happy, and for some bizarre reason, I can see myself having a relationship with him. Therefore, I am envious. Envious of his happiness, envious of the fact that this unknown person gets to see a side of him that I always wondered about... ENVIOUS. I couldn't believe it. I'm not generally prone to feelings such as these, and for some reason, I feel I am more susceptable to these emotions living in a place with so little true personal contact. Don't misunderstand, everyone here is very forward, but we have both (he and I) found it difficult to build strong relationships in an envorinment such as this, and we have begun building one in each other. Somehow, I have become... dare I say it, jealous, of some strange chick I don't know for building a relationship with him as well that will be more promising in the romantic sense than the one we have. *sigh*
I don't always hate being alone. It's just sometimes, when I know that someone out there who truly deserves it is as happy as I want to be. I am trying so desperately to live vicariously through them, but more than anything, I just wish I had it for myself. Arg, I hate being so selfish, especially tonight, when I'm tipsy and sad about my listlessness. But other than these times, when I'm being silly all by myself, I am happy being alone, and I enjoy spending time without all those people who don't matter, so I can save my time for the few that do.
I think I'm going to officially draw this to a close, but on my way out, I will assure you that I am NOT depressed. I'm just having one of those nights that make me question everything that I'm about. I hope this isn't just a me thing, and that everyone out there has days like this. Isn't that what Momma said?
