Creepers/Stalkers

For some odd reason, I have had more than my share of creepers/stalkers. The current one is the third of its kind.

The first creeper (creep #1) I had was in high school. Being an oblivious care-free person, it took me more than a year to realize that this guy was stalking both a good friend of mine and I. I had almost every class with him and knew him as an acquaintance at best, however, in my senior year, he started talking to us in a weird sort of way that cannot be expressed by words. I would be having a conversation with someone else and be like “Oh I need to get that book to catch up on my reading” and in the next class he would just get me the book. I would be like “Well okay, thanks bud”. I don’t know how he thought I was taking this all to be like, but he definitely got a lot weirder on MSN conversations. He would tell me how he feels “lucky to have known a person like me”. I realize this might sound sweet and what not, but I was genuinely not interested and it didn’t help that he would follow me home very often and ask me questions about my good friend (let’s call her Mary). He would also follow Mary to her sports practices and then follow her home and ask her about me. Perhaps he doesn’t sound like so much of a creep here, but in my naive high school days, if I wasn’t interested in someone and they were quite keen on me, I guess I just thought they were creepers.

In my freshman year of university, I met this kid (creep #2) from some small Canadian town who had been home-schooled for most of his life. Within the first 5 minutes after meeting him, he managed to sit on my lap and pull me into his leather trench coat. He made it very clear to me that he had a big leather/vampire fetish. He would call me at odd hours and tell me things I didn’t want to hear. If that was not enough, he also liked to wrap his leg around me while hugging me in public. He lived in my dorm and I had a difficult time avoiding him.

The person I am currently kind of accusing of being a creep is this guy who is kind of between a friend and an acquaintance. Why I think he is creepy is because my friend Carla was talking to some random girl that I don’t know and this random girl knew about me from this creep # 3. She had apparently visited creep # 3 and he had apparently entertained her with his random knowledge about my business and showed her a picture of me. How he obtained this picture I have no clue because NONE of my pictures are accessible online, even to my friends. There are no pictures of me online, and I know that for a fact. Last year, he had come looking for me in my dorm very late at night one day. Because I wasn’t there, he went to a friend of mine and again they had a discussion about me. I don’t understand why people need to discuss me and what goes on in my life, if they barely know me. It’s not the same as gossiping, because the gossip about me would be limited to my high tolerance for alcohol and my overall quirks. There is nothing really to talk about. I also don’t appreciate random people I don’t know knowing all my business because of him. I don’t know if he is interested in me, but some people have liked to suggest that he has a fetish for the girls of my type (not as in brown girls, but tomboys). What that means I am not really sure of, but I definitely don’t like the sound of it. Sometimes I feel I should just live under a rock so that I don’t have to deal with people like this.

I woke up too early this morning. I’ll take a nap now.

Surrealistic fantasies

This is inspired by Never Had a Boyfriend’s post entitled “Beds“.

I am at the point in my life where libido is pretty great, and in the past I have satisfied myself by daydreaming, masturbating and occasionally having random make-out sessions, but it wasn’t like I was ever left satisfied. I wanted more than just physical closeness.

It’s awkward when you have fantasized about someone and then you have to talk to them. Really, really awkward. I don’t show it, but my brain screams “Holy shit, theoretically this is supposed to be mad awkward right now”. That happened a lot with the Rambler. I am pretty sure I kept my passion under wraps, but it was hard not to just stare at him when we would have our long non-academic talks. Still, I was never uncomfortable around him. I felt like he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable either if he noticed that I liked him much. I just loved being in his presence. Even as time passes by, I find that I can’t get over him. I am a retard I know.

Sometimes, when I am half asleep I find myself thrust into this world of very surrealistic fantasies, like ones that have nothing to do with what’s going on in my real life. I of course don’t remember much about them when I am completely awake but they are extremely pleasurable while they last.

Only today I had a fantasy about me working during my internships in this small city that actually exists, and acquiring this guy who was studying to become a teacher. We apparently got it on and it was pretty darn good.

When I am in my logical thinking mood though, I look back at these and I am like what the fuck, what does these have to do with anything. The small city in that fantasy is where a lot of people in my field do their internships but I have no intention of going there for it. And high school teacher wannabes aren’t usually my thing either. Fantasies like these come out of nowhere.

I guess I am on that time of the month when women are frisky because they are ovulating. If I was drunk enough and around the rambler, I can imagine myself just jumping him like that. This too is a surrealistic fantasy because firstly, that’s not the most ideal of cases, and secondly why would the rambler randomly agree to be jumped by me? Yeah, that’s not happening.

I guess to an extent I fantasize about things that are too good to happen to me. Too good. But it’s nothing out of the ordinary really. It happens to other people all the time. I wish I could be like them. It does seem so easy when I see others. Sigh.

On the other hand, the sexual content of the fantasies are not science fiction. They would happen to me, one day hopefully. Most of us don’t die virgins, so hopefully that statistic applies to me as well.

As I am writing this, I am seeing how stupid I am sounding. This isn’t the usual me for sure. I usually have my head screwed on straight. I am just gonna blame the hormones once again.

Then again, what’s wrong with a smart spiffy 18 year old chick being horny?

I’ll end it here before things get weird. . I love being weird.

Thoughts on my yellow fever, and what I am attracted to

When I first told my friends about this particular crush, everyone was overwhelmed and surprised. I am willing to bet, no girl of my ethnicity, usually succumbs to the so-called yellow fever, but I did. Oh and by the way, I am East Indian.

I guess due to the place in which I have spent most of my childhood and adolescence, I have been largely attracted to Caucasian men but when I first started university I began to notice how cute some Asian guys were.

This Chinese boy that I like is nothing like the guys I am usually attracted to. I am not comfortable talking to him for long, because he is a very shy person and it’s honestly painful to get him to come out of his shell. It’s not like he doesn’t speak English; he was brought up in Canada. All the guys I have been attracted to so far are great at making conversation and make me feel comfortable being around them. So far, every trait that this Chinese boy represents has been something I have never really valued or cherished in a person, but I continue to be attracted to him. It’s very strange, granted, this is definitely not one of my hugest crushes in recent times.

So I got thinking about what is it exactly that attracts us? And what does our likes tell about ourselves and our place in evolution? These questions have intrigued me for very long and I think a better understanding of them can help me understand who I am.

Most of the guys I have been attracted to in my life have either brunettes or redheads. Yes, I do have an unnatural fixation with Ireland, but that’s not just because their men are incredibly attractive and have possibly the sexiest accent in the world, but I am attracted to the culture and the history of Ireland as well, ever since I was little. That’s not to say though I am prejudiced against everyone else, but I do have a greater tendency to be attracted to men with brown or red hair than any other types of men.

An obvious question at this point may be about my opinions on East Indian or South Asian men in general. Most South Asian males I have encountered in my life are quite attached to tradition and lack rebelliousness or freedom in thought. I am definitely not saying that all South Asian males are like that, but the ones I have come across surely are. They might be great to get along with and everything, but I can’t be attracted to them, because having radical ideas and somewhat of a rebellious nature (not in the clichéd “I hate my parents, society sucks blah blah blah” sense, but just a completely novel perspective on things) combined with a mellow and laid-back disposition with a casual or witty sense of humour is a little too important for me. South Asian guys that I have met have this pragmatic practicality about them, which is a good thing of course, but just not something I am attracted to. Practicality is good, but I like more of the abstract, poetic guys. They don’t necessarily need to be poets, just have a tendency to analyze and observe things, and seek a deeper understanding of nature and culture, even if they may be like business majors or something. I am also turned off of heavily muscular guys, just because I think that they spend too much time obsessing over their appearances and are thus termed as “douches” in my cognitive processes.

It would be really interesting to find out what everyone else finds attractive, especially the people on my blogroll, if they can share their likes and dislikes in men. This is more than just blogging as a form of expression to me now, I’d actually like to learn more about the way humans interact and what makes us tick.

Parents, and that big cliché about breaking away from tradition

I don’t think I have ever discussed my family situation at length before, right now would be a good time to clarify that before I get tangled again in this issue of family business.

I am an only child, but unlike the stereotypical only child, I am far from being overly dependent on my parents, and I am really nothing like them. For my culture, my parents are pretty liberal, but as I have been growing up, I am beginning to objectively see how conservative they actually are.

Despite having lived in North America in the 1980s for a long while, I feel that my parents are far from gaining an objective understanding of North American society and way of life. This partially has to do with the fact that the places in which they lived are conservative to begin with (i.e. the American south and small Canadian towns) and they never really got out of their immediate ethnic community. I have spent a significant time of my life in the home country, but after immigrating to Canada, I have found that I don’t get along with people of my own ethnicity here too well (because their values and beliefs concerning what it means to be from the home country is like from 30 years before) and I have only experienced unnecessary judgement from such people. Pretty much all the people I hang out with are thus not of my ethnicity. It never really bugged my parents that I had no friends of my own ethnicity, but recently they have made suggestions of me becoming like gringos/whitewashed/mangia-cakes (whatever racial term relating to white people you prefer). Truth is, however, I don’t find myself thinking long and hard about my cultural identity too often. I don’t feel the need to distinguish myself like that. I have taken things from my own culture (very obscure things) as well as other and contemporary cultures to define myself. I don’t feel the need to dress and act a certain way to show where I am from (it’s pretty obvious though, from my natural appearance). I am just a person, and I don’t want to be bound by cultural norms and just experience life with complete freedom.

I have been living on my own for the past year, and whenever I visit my parents, they have this nagging concern that I am becoming too different or that I am growing apart from them. Honestly though, I had become distant from them a long time ago, like when I was in grade 9. I don’t understand why would be naive enough to think that I was growing up exactly as they planned, especially knowing me. I ignore these concerns readily and focus on immediate issues but my parents are crazy and have serious issues and will bring it up whenever possible. It’s apparently not enough that I am financially independent from them, they need to have complete understanding and control over my life. In my culture, the only reasonable explanation as to why a girl is growing distant from her parents/demanding her own space is that she has met a guy who is making her do this. This notion disgusts me because it implies that a girl can’t do that just out of her own free will and I think it disturbs my parents because they know this is the case for me. However, when I try to relate these things to other people they have rather stereotypical notions about my situations (think Bend it Like Beckham or My Big Fat Greek Wedding). It kills me to clarify that no, my situation is not like that because firstly I am not readily dependent on my parents and my parents are absolutely not that traditional or religious. I’d rather not care about them, but it hurts me sometimes to think that I have come to a point where the lack of understanding between us is so large. My parents themselves are abusive to each other, and I often wonder why I even bother to make them understand anything. They are not supportive of my personality and never made me feel like I should be comfortable being myself and always seeked to point out flaws in me. It’s amazing how I am actually considerably self-confident and functional. Maybe I am just a really obnoxious kid.

The reason this post mentions the cliché about breaking away from tradition is because I feel like in a lot of ways, due to the the portrayals in popular culture, people like me have been programmed to be presented in a way. I am by no means like the stereotypical breaking-away from traditions people. I have in-depth knowledge on the history and literature of my culture and I was never brought up thinking of North American society as the big evil hedonistic west. This actually further complicates my situation, because nobody really takes my issues as they really are, and just puts the generic label of “immigrant issues” on them.

I am still content, but I find second-guessing myself and my very inherent awesomeness whenever I come in contact with my parents. Sigh.

And now just for fun, anybody here able to guess my home country?

I’m just content

After a long time, I am finally able to say, that I am genuinely feeling content. Usually, I am just okay, I make up for the lack of excitement in my life by sarcastic and darkly humorous interpretation of events, but right now I am just letting things be, and it feels damn great.

I am not exactly sure what caused this. I am calm, but not oblivious like I usually am. I find myself smiling a lot, as opposed to smirking or using sardonic wit. I am truly, naturally happy.

I have started my second year of university and I am back in my dorm. My old dorm friends and just friends in general say they have noticed a positive uplifting change in me. What exactly it is, they cannot put a finger on, and neither can I. I just feel better. I am not afraid to be alone or with other people. I have no fear, no guilt and no regret. I might lose this feeling soon, but this will be proof for me in the future that it did happen.