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Name: katie
Country: United States
State: Texas
Metro: Austin
Birthday: 3/13/1986
Gender: Female
Interests: reading. the sound and smell of rain. music. napping on sunday afternoons. family (most of the time). movies. traveling. new york city. clubbing (sort of). driving for no reason and to no specific destination. smiling. art museums. the lake. sunsets. europe. smiling. friends. drinking (no comments). concerts. manhattan. sitting on the dock on a cold, winter night. good conversations. feeling "infinite".
Occupation: Student
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  weezergeek313
Member Since:
3/21/2004
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| Ode to the Nice Girls
This rant was written because a nice girl finally snapped.
I've read the tribute to the nice guys; this is my response.
This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)
By Jessica Leigh Griffith | | |
| allllright. so camay and i went to san antonio on sunday.
first we went to the zoo. i hadn't been to a zoo in a couple years, it was quite fun. they had a lot of reeeeeally cute monkeys. the gibbons and the tamarins. very cute. i wanted to take one and put it in a little diaper and dress it up and put it in a purse like those people do with the damn chihuahuas (let's NOT talk about that though). we ate our sack lunch, even though we put the lunch in our purses... and there was this kid, and her dad was holding cotton candy AND he had just bought her an ice cream cone. and then two minutes later, i see the mom holding the ice cream cone, dad with cotton candy, and the girl with a snowcone. it was RIDICULOUS. kids are too spoiled these days. but then there was this cute boy who called the crocodiles (which were really alligators) "crack-a-daddles". cuuute. anyway... oh yeah i was kinda disappointed with their "petting zoo" which was really just this funky goat/sheep with three horns (what was that about?? birth defect?) and a llama. and the llama wanted to eat me b/c i insulted his teeth. so yeah. thats enough about the zoo.
then we went to the alamo. and we didnt really look at any of the museum stuff or anything. we just sat by the coke machines and made fun of people. or i made fun of people, but camay laughed too. i also fed the birds cheetos. i hope they didnt explode like pigeons with rice. camay posed a very thoughtful question... would i love my kid less if it was a red head? (no offense chels) haha. aaaanyway. and then there was another spoiled kid incident. this little girl was sitting eating an ice cream sandwich with what i assumed was her mother and grandmother. but then her parents walked up, and i know they were her parents because the woman (not her mother) was like look there's your mommy and daddy. and then started to tell her parents about how the man in front of them didn't know how heavy the door was and let it go and it hit the little girl in the face. and the little girl was fine, she wasn't that badly hurt and she was happy with her ice cream cone. but as soon as her mother started going oh poor baby and that kinda shit, she started bawling. for attention. bah. i hate spoiled children. and then they bought her more things from the coke/ice cream machines and all this other stuff. it was also ridiculous. anyway.
then we went to the river walk. we walked past all the restaurants and stuff... and it got deserted. so we just kept walking, taking pictures.... until we got hungry and tired of walking. but we had almost walked the whole loop so we decided to keep walking. however, we took a wrong turn, i don't know how, but we did. and so we ended up walking the wrong direction for a while. so then we just gave up and went and tried to find my car. and we found the car and then we went and ate at an applebees on the interstate haha.
okay, picture time.
the cute gibbon monkey!
now just random pics from san an and the river walk
camay took this picture
and this picture
okay, well i guess that's enough pictures. | | |
| i feel like my life is one big screw up.
like i just can't get it right.
moving to austin was a mistake. i should've stayed in longview.
taking this job was a mistake.
WHEN WILL I EVER GET IT RIGHT??
i need a drink. | | |
| so fun day yesterday.
lisa is in town and yesterday, camay, chels, lisa, brittany, and i all went to see final destination 3. oh my god it was soooo gory. i didnt watch like half the movie. and i will NEVER ride a roller coaster. yeah.
then we went out to eat at tgi fridays. mmmm. and we had a cuuuuute waiter. double mmmm. and then we went to cheesecake factory for dessert. triple mmmm.
after lisa and i were almost back to my apartment after dropping everyone off, camay called and asked if we wanted to go to a co-op party. so we headed back out after a little bit, picked camay up and went to the party. they were playing techno music and they had like a strobe light and everything. but they only had beer downstairs. so we went upstairs and got a mixed drink. camay was drrrrrrruuuuuuunk. (you know you were) and lisa and i really werent and we had fun watching camay dance.
anyway... all in all, i had a lot of fun yesterday.
now its time for pics!
brittany and her huuuuuuge martini at tgi fridays.
lisa and i at tgi fridays
mmm.... the cheesecakes.
lisa and i at the cheesecake factory.
lisa and chels at cheesecake factory.
chels with allllll her whipped cream. so kinky.
brittany and camay at cheesecake factory.
me, lisa, chels, camay, and brittany at the cheesecake factory.
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| so good and bad news.
good news first: i called work to talk to the manager about being put back on the schedule, and, long story short, he said that he might move me to the other linens 'n things that is actually a LOT closer to where i live... like 20 minutes closer. so yay.
bad news: i'm an idiot. i decided to go without the "boot" today, just to see if my ankle was any better. its not. and it hurts. a lot. yeah.
that's all. | | |
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