Wookin' Pa Nub in All Da Wong Pwaces
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JoeUser Forums
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
My friends in high school were always gushing over someone. Some people even gushed over imaginary people they would never meet, but were somehow sure that it was meant to be. Whatever.
Then I joined the army and didn't give the opposite sex much thought. I never really had before. Except there was this one guy, in basic training, Everett Sherlock. But he was married...so oh, well.
Then just weeks after I arrived at DLI, some guy starts bugging me, takes me out to a movie, and starts touching my hand all feathery like and stuff, and I just panicked like a deer in the headlights. Couldn't do a thing. Couldn't even gasp. I wanted to say, "What are you doing?" But nothing came out. I just froze. I didn't move an inch.
Then when the movie was over, we walked out silently. There must have been other people there, but honestly, when we got outside, the street was completely vacant. (Hey, it was Alvarado Street, you know, the same one in the Steinbeck novels.) I just wanted to go home. I hated him, but I didn't even feel the hatred. Just pure evil. Just shock. Just get me out of there.
Then from behind us a group of girls came up, and passed us, all the while singing something like, "All you want is sex, sex, sex." I thought he had it all planned or something. It just fit the mood too perfectly. I just wanted to run away. Get out of there. But it was just awful, like a deer caught frozen in headlights.
Thankfully he drove me back. I didn't say a word. Didn't move an inch outside of what was necessary to transport myself from the car to my room and locked the door. I hated him. I had no idea who he was or what his intentions were, but I never wanted to see him again.
When I woke up the next day, I got up and got out of there, just wanted to make myself scarce from the building. This guy lived right down the hallway from me. I made it out the door three stories down, and he caught me.
To make an excruciatingly long story short, he never stopped bugging me. He became an annoying presence, then a familiar presence, then a tolerable presence, then he manipulated me into believing that I had nothing better to do than to be with himHe literally said, "Well, what else do you have to do for the next nine months?" (which was how much longer he had until graduating...how convenient for him. Jerk.) I wish I'd been as outspoken and headstrong then as I am now. I'd set him straight in a second. I would've pulled a left hook on him like Dana did (whatever that was about. wow Dana). I did slap him a couple times. Yeah, I beat my men just to hold my ground. There's no shame in that.
He had me to the point where he'd convinced me that it was OK to be in the same room together with the door closed. Of course that was specifically forbidden for people of the opposite sex to be in a room with the door closed, as we were in training school. Neverending training school. We got an article 15 over that on Halloween night when the First Sergeant himself unlocked my door and found us asleep on my bed together. I was only mad at Brent, because he was in my bed sleeping when I came home from babysitting that night. I tried to wake him up and send him home but he wouldn't wake up, so I just went to sleep. Gosh that sounds like such a made-up lie now, as an older, wiser woman, but honest to Betsy that's what happened. Yep. Article 15's.
It was two weeks later that anything actually "happened" between us. We were suffering from our article 15's together, so I felt like I'd actually done something wrong. So I didn't feel much worse when he tried to put his thing in mine. He said, "Pleeeeeeease?" And I said, "Yes." And it was so stupid and nothing, and afterwards he was all hyped up and he took me for a walk, parading me around to all his friends, surely dying to boast to them that he'd just devirginized someone. In retrospect, and with the Bishop of the Monterey Ward on my side, I know that Brent did something very bad, and I was forgiven. I really was a sweet girl back then. Not rotten like I am now. So he ruled me from August 1995 until May 1996. Then good riddance. And I came to my senses and repented.
So I was squeaky clean and wholesome again, swearing off men completely. Never did like them anyway. From what I learned by observing my father, men are just lustful, greedy, slimy, pornography-peeping things who girls should stay away from if they're smart. And I have a handful of female cousins who got pregnant in high school. Nuh-uh. Not me. To be clean is to be unassociated with the opposite sex.
After the army though, I was like, "Whew! I made it through that, and I'm still a reclaimed virgin!.....Um, I want a man now." So in my wanderings I found a really cute one and I couldn't restrain myself any longer. We shagged. Whoopee! He was so cute, but he had no brain. Oh well. Can you believe I was more intelligent than he? Sad for him.
That's why it confused me when Cathy invited me to live with them after I was done with the army...she kept saying that I ought to date, and "It's fine if you invite your dates over." I thought boys were bad. That's what I've been working so hard for. To be independent and strong on my own without needing a filthy man.
Sigh. So I moved out on my own. Still felt dirty from the last guy a year before. Never could repent fully of that one. Then I did all the naughty things on the internet. Posed for guys. It was so thrilling. I was beautiful to them! I'd never felt beautiful before.
OK, but it was bad too. Because I knew it was wrong. I went to the Bishop-what's-his-name of the singles ward. He said he'd work with me. I had to begin the repentance process. It would be harder this time since I'd been through it before.
But in the midst of it all, I'd met Johnathan Herndon online doin' my thang. And I was so so lonesome. The LDS guys just were too clean for me. I was tainted. That's what the adversary had me believing. I couldn't even look clean guys in the eye. I had social phobias anyway. Literally couldn't be in a room with a bunch of people. I'd freak out. Not vocally, but I just had to leave.
So my life consisted of going to work, coming home, assuming my online sex kitten alter-ego, and that's what it was.
John & I got married. That's our Love Story. Not love. Just running away from myself. The end.
posted by Angela Marie at 8:34 AM
My friends in high school were always gushing over someone. Some people even gushed over imaginary people they would never meet, but were somehow sure that it was meant to be. Whatever.
Then I joined the army and didn't give the opposite sex much thought. I never really had before. Except there was this one guy, in basic training, Everett Sherlock. But he was married...so oh, well.
Then just weeks after I arrived at DLI, some guy starts bugging me, takes me out to a movie, and starts touching my hand all feathery like and stuff, and I just panicked like a deer in the headlights. Couldn't do a thing. Couldn't even gasp. I wanted to say, "What are you doing?" But nothing came out. I just froze. I didn't move an inch.
Then when the movie was over, we walked out silently. There must have been other people there, but honestly, when we got outside, the street was completely vacant. (Hey, it was Alvarado Street, you know, the same one in the Steinbeck novels.) I just wanted to go home. I hated him, but I didn't even feel the hatred. Just pure evil. Just shock. Just get me out of there.
Then from behind us a group of girls came up, and passed us, all the while singing something like, "All you want is sex, sex, sex." I thought he had it all planned or something. It just fit the mood too perfectly. I just wanted to run away. Get out of there. But it was just awful, like a deer caught frozen in headlights.
Thankfully he drove me back. I didn't say a word. Didn't move an inch outside of what was necessary to transport myself from the car to my room and locked the door. I hated him. I had no idea who he was or what his intentions were, but I never wanted to see him again.
When I woke up the next day, I got up and got out of there, just wanted to make myself scarce from the building. This guy lived right down the hallway from me. I made it out the door three stories down, and he caught me.
To make an excruciatingly long story short, he never stopped bugging me. He became an annoying presence, then a familiar presence, then a tolerable presence, then he manipulated me into believing that I had nothing better to do than to be with himHe literally said, "Well, what else do you have to do for the next nine months?" (which was how much longer he had until graduating...how convenient for him. Jerk.) I wish I'd been as outspoken and headstrong then as I am now. I'd set him straight in a second. I would've pulled a left hook on him like Dana did (whatever that was about. wow Dana). I did slap him a couple times. Yeah, I beat my men just to hold my ground. There's no shame in that.
He had me to the point where he'd convinced me that it was OK to be in the same room together with the door closed. Of course that was specifically forbidden for people of the opposite sex to be in a room with the door closed, as we were in training school. Neverending training school. We got an article 15 over that on Halloween night when the First Sergeant himself unlocked my door and found us asleep on my bed together. I was only mad at Brent, because he was in my bed sleeping when I came home from babysitting that night. I tried to wake him up and send him home but he wouldn't wake up, so I just went to sleep. Gosh that sounds like such a made-up lie now, as an older, wiser woman, but honest to Betsy that's what happened. Yep. Article 15's.
It was two weeks later that anything actually "happened" between us. We were suffering from our article 15's together, so I felt like I'd actually done something wrong. So I didn't feel much worse when he tried to put his thing in mine. He said, "Pleeeeeeease?" And I said, "Yes." And it was so stupid and nothing, and afterwards he was all hyped up and he took me for a walk, parading me around to all his friends, surely dying to boast to them that he'd just devirginized someone. In retrospect, and with the Bishop of the Monterey Ward on my side, I know that Brent did something very bad, and I was forgiven. I really was a sweet girl back then. Not rotten like I am now. So he ruled me from August 1995 until May 1996. Then good riddance. And I came to my senses and repented.
So I was squeaky clean and wholesome again, swearing off men completely. Never did like them anyway. From what I learned by observing my father, men are just lustful, greedy, slimy, pornography-peeping things who girls should stay away from if they're smart. And I have a handful of female cousins who got pregnant in high school. Nuh-uh. Not me. To be clean is to be unassociated with the opposite sex.
After the army though, I was like, "Whew! I made it through that, and I'm still a reclaimed virgin!.....Um, I want a man now." So in my wanderings I found a really cute one and I couldn't restrain myself any longer. We shagged. Whoopee! He was so cute, but he had no brain. Oh well. Can you believe I was more intelligent than he? Sad for him.
That's why it confused me when Cathy invited me to live with them after I was done with the army...she kept saying that I ought to date, and "It's fine if you invite your dates over." I thought boys were bad. That's what I've been working so hard for. To be independent and strong on my own without needing a filthy man.
Sigh. So I moved out on my own. Still felt dirty from the last guy a year before. Never could repent fully of that one. Then I did all the naughty things on the internet. Posed for guys. It was so thrilling. I was beautiful to them! I'd never felt beautiful before.
OK, but it was bad too. Because I knew it was wrong. I went to the Bishop-what's-his-name of the singles ward. He said he'd work with me. I had to begin the repentance process. It would be harder this time since I'd been through it before.
But in the midst of it all, I'd met Johnathan Herndon online doin' my thang. And I was so so lonesome. The LDS guys just were too clean for me. I was tainted. That's what the adversary had me believing. I couldn't even look clean guys in the eye. I had social phobias anyway. Literally couldn't be in a room with a bunch of people. I'd freak out. Not vocally, but I just had to leave.
So my life consisted of going to work, coming home, assuming my online sex kitten alter-ego, and that's what it was.
John & I got married. That's our Love Story. Not love. Just running away from myself. The end.
posted by Angela Marie at 8:34 AM