I had hoped to actually post this before Cleaving’s December 1 publication date as I have friends in high places (…sorta…) and got an early copy of Julie Powell’s second book…and wanted to rub it in your collective faces a little bit. (But in the nicest way possible.)

But, alas, it is now December 5, and for all you know, I could have spent the last four days feverishly reading it and composing dark lies.

But *that*, I suppose, is sort of beside the point.

–

I had *heard* Cleaving got bad reviews…and I understand why. I hadn’t actually read any of the critics until I sat down to write *this.* But as I was reading the book, I definitely thought, “People are not going to like this…”

And because of the kinship I felt with Julie in Julie and Julia (and that I still felt — albeit to a lesser degree — in Cleaving), I’m going to go out on a limb and play a little devil’s advocate here. Which is not to say I liked the entire book. I initially thought it was hard to get into — the text really just goes back and forth between Knives/Meat and Marriage Falling Apart/Affair over and over again. Neither topic is really pleasant to encounter…(especially for those of us who saw Chris Messina valiantly play the role of Eric in this summer’s movie…)

But first I’ll tackle the meat: I’m hardly a vegetarian (those vegan blog posts last year were really just a buddy at HuffPo hooking an unemployed girl up…), but, put lightly, some of those butchering passages were really hard to read. (It was sort of like when I was watching something on TV with my parents about bison that mysteriously died in a national park..and it turned out that they were already sick…and because of the cold weather, they got trapped in some sort of gassy something-or-rather out on the plains…so, it was unfortunate, but they would have died anyway. And the national parks guys proved this by cracking open one of the bones and showing this really gooey bone marrow…and my mother and I saw it and immediately exclaimed, “EWW!” and my dad just said, “What? It’s bone marrow.”) So…Point #1: I may eat steak, but that doesn’t make it easy to read about how a cow *becomes* steak. Which maybe means I *should* be a vegetarian…but that’s a topic for another post.

Point #2: After such phenomenal success with her first book, I sort of have to give Powell props for not following a similar pattern and writing the same thing again, but with Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume Two. I would imagine the temptation would totally be there with something that has already been established as a successful model…*especially* when that model has been turned into a Nora Ephron movie and you KNOW that plenty of people will buy the second book on name recognition alone.

I think London’s Sunday Times put it best, actually, in this review that asked how Powell could possibly top herself after Julie and Julia…and then answers itself: “The answer is, of course, that she couldn’t. But she has had a jolly good stab at it — literally.”

I like that — “a jolly good stab.” We should all be so lucky…

But…it *is* gross. And disconcerting. And, as noted, I basically agreed with everyone who didn’t like it…until D — the man with whom she is having the torrid affair that threatens her marriage — disappears. That was the moment Julie became a sympathetic character to me…and I started to identify with her more and more…and even recognized some of my own behavioral patterns in the things she does for him…even though she knows she’ll never hear from him. This may officially make me a crazy person, but…1. Who among you didn’t think that anyway? And…2. I totally understand that compulsion…and that desire to maintain a connection with someone no longer in your life. Small case in point: There is perhaps no one (aside from myself) who loved my cat more than the Bartender. And so, for example, when I finally got the cat fixed and the vet told me that he was the most well-endowed feline she had ever neutered, I *knew* the Bartender would appreciate the story…perhaps more than anyone else. And so I emailed him about it…even though I knew he wouldn’t respond. I guess part of me is stubborn enough and/or hopeful enough that somewhere out there, he read my message and it made him happy and he remembered that we had good times together. (But when I read Christine Muhlke’s review in the NYT, I felt really bad about myself. I can’t help but feel she’s calling me pathetic, too: “Powell’s not kidding about the ‘obsession’ part: she pathetically texts and e-mails into the ether for almost a year, then fleshes her longing into a book that doesn’t spare the reader a single full-frontal flashback.” [For the record though, I spared y'all plenty of full-frontal flashbacks. So count your blessings.])

However, when I told my friend J that I sort of got Julie’s sadness about D, she said, “But you don’t have a husband!!” which is a fair point. And, Julie, as much as I’d like to defend you (you’re the one, after all, who gave me hope that it *is* possible to be at a point in life in which you feel absolutely nothing is going right, but you can still suck it up and make positive changes and turn everything around…), I gotta say that it *is* hard to have real, total, complete sympathy for you knowing that you have Eric at home. And, sure, he goes out and has his own affair, too…but…I found myself asking, “Why not just get a divorce?” repeatedly. And, sure, he’s been a part of your life for a super-long time and you know each other so well that you’re basically the same person and you always know what the other one is thinking…which is why you can’t hide the affair from him in the first place, but also why you can’t bear to part with him, and…well…I don’t know. It just sort of gets to a point where it seems like a tough decision needs to be made…but nobody is willing to make it and it kinda feels like you guys are making your own beds. Either get divorced or don’t, but, for the love of god, stop complaining about the uncertainty. (Which, ultimately, she does.) (And all of this, “But I love/know him more than I love/know myself…”-business sort of makes me think of the fourth book in the Twilight series and that half-vampire baby that resulted from Bella and Edward’s union. UGH. But, again, another post for another day.)

Point #3 is that when you write something like this, you have to be honest. (Or at least that’s what Dale Maharidge taught me…) And, sure, some of Cleaving is a little saucy and/or, you know, what kids these days (or kids from days of yore) might call TMI…but, at the same time, I also think it’s kind of brave. She wrote about a topic that clearly does not paint her in a positive light…but she doesn’t gloss over any of it. She sort of offers herself up — flaws and all. And that takes guts. And to touch on Point #2 again briefly, all the saucy stuff takes her further out of her Julie and Julia Comfort Zone…and I gotta give her props for being brave enough to do that, too. (But, then again, I don’t know how much of it was actually flexing writing muscles and how much of it was, “See?? I can write naughty words! And lots of ‘em!”)

I also think confidence plays a big role in all of this…and it is where, again, I feel a certain kinship with Ms. Powell. I was just at a little J-school classmate reunion-y thing, in fact, when I was talking about making slow progress on my book and one of my classmates grabbed me by the arms and shook me a little and said, “You’re so talented! Do you know that? You have to know that and acknowledge it and understand that someday you’re going to do great things!” and it was sort of like, “Yes! Sure. Okay!”

I like the way the NYT put the confidence issue best: Muhlke writes that D’s enduring power over Julie exists, in part, because his presence in her life “instills the confidence that being played by Amy Adams in the movie apparently did not.” And…I don’t know. But I get that, too. And, heck, I can only assume money is no object for her now and I don’t really see anything wrong with looking around and saying, “Hey! I have a lot of freedom!” and then trying butchering on for size and going to Argentina, Ukraine and Tanzania…in order to clear her head or spark something within her or simply to delay the inevitable. Obviously she’s still a person trying to figure out who she is and what makes her tick…and I’m not sure we should all be so quick to judge. She has an amazing opportunity sans financial pressures to actually figure out all that stuff on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs…that a lot of people never get to do. I have no idea what I’d do with myself if I didn’t have to worry about paying rent or bills or anything (aside from blogging for all of you, natch). While visiting my parents for Thanksgiving, I went to a thrift shop with my mother and found a giant silver clock that was lined with velvet and contained a hologram of the Last Supper and some fake flowers. And it was just the most amazing clock ever…but there was a slight imperfection in the velvet lining…so I bought some additional fake flowers and glued them on the inside and then I decided I might as well touch up the silver paint while I was at it, too…and I pretty much had the time of my life. So…perhaps I would fix up old clocks. But would I really be fulfilled by that forever and ever? I have no idea. (See? Creating a fulfilling life for oneself is a toughie.)

Bottom line: I think there’s a lot of be said about pursuing your passion no matter what. And I hate to get up on a feminist soapbox, but…I don’t think it’s totally unreasonable to point out that women face this tinge of selfishness when they want to do something purely for themselves that men never do. A man can pursue whatever career/passions he wants and he can still be a model family man. But a woman who puts her career and/or other passions at the forefront at the expense of family and/or children isn’t such a sympathetic figure. And that’s not really fair. (I am tempted to ask the “What if Julie was a man?”-question and bring up powerful men and *their* affairs and follow *that* thread for awhile…but I think Access Hollywood quite thoroughly beat me to that punch last week.)

And, I mean, I totally understand Julie’s excitement in having her own apartment. (Did Virginia Woolf not write that “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction”?) I’m really not good at sharing spaces. In fact, I think my own apartment may be the ONE thing I’ve done right in my life to date. So…yet another thing that makes me get Julie. If only Eric didn’t exist at all, she might be one of my favorite people ever…(or perhaps I should say, “The idea of her…” I just Googled and found an interivew on YumSugar and realized that she *is*, in fact, a real person and thought, “Yikes! What if she reads this?” Which she won’t…but, still…)

My final plus: It’s hard to travel on your own. Heck, I have trouble eating or going to movies by myself. (That’s one of the good things about working from home — I can go see movies in the middle of the day in the middle of the week and absolutely no one is in the theater…) So — even though I agree with the reviewers that her post-apprenticeship jaunts around the world *do* seem to have been tacked on without a firm idea about how they contribute to the book as a whole — I also think it’s really great she was brave enough to fly all over the world on her own.

The NYT felt otherwise — “She travels to Argentina, Ukraine and Tanzania, a 100-page exercise in self-indulgent writing, in which she dwells on how attractive the locals find her and how much Malbec, Cognac or goat’s blood she can drink…” — but, I mean, c’mon. What is memoir (or foodoir) if not an exercise in self-indulgence?

I really wanted to party last night.  However (believe it or not), my sorority friends are really academic, so there was no one to party with.  The Boys were discussing the night’s plans until 12:30am, where it was then deemed to be too late to do anything.  Caroline was doing laundry (a five-day affair because she puts about seven items in with about each load), so I couldn’t even drink with her.

I coped by making popcorn (with melted butter… So pathetic) and watched Arrested Development by myself.  It was a miserable night for this alcoholic.

Until…

(12:16am) Hot Boss:  You’d love [popular bar] right now… Hundreds of guys and no girls…

(12:19am) Awkward Sorority Girl: Damn it!  So ideal.  I wish I had fun friends to go there with haha

(12:26am) Hot Boss:  Bring your whole sorority!  We have tons of sexy boys here for you guys

(12:30am) Awkward Sorority Girl: Mmm sexy boys… So enticing.  However, my whole sorority is being academic tonight miserableee

(12:31am) Hot Boss: Gayyyyyyyy haha thought you girls liked to get “wild”?

(12:32am) Awkward Sorority Girl: Hahaha well I do at least

(12:43am) Hot Boss: Wow ok!

Even though he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to invite me to [popular bar], I’m okay with that.  He was at a bar and thought of me even though we’d already “hung out” (if grocery shopping/a ride home counts) earlier that night.

So, it was a lonely evening… But a good one.

Lesson 36 song: Perfectly Lonely by John Mayer

I feel so nekkid. My phone is nowhere to be found.

Burke had an art show for his drawing class last night and I remember putting my phone in my jacket pocket right before we left. When we got to the church (where the art show was being held), I reached into my pocket to get it so I could take a picture of Burke’s drawing…and it wasn’t there. (No worries, I had Mike take a picture…) I also figured that it’d be in the car, or that I wasn’t remembering correctly and that it was sitting on the counter at home still.

Not the case. It’s not *anywhere*! I retraced my steps (even drove back to the church) with a flashlight and Mike’s phone … probably called mine about 75 times. Not a peep. *sigh*

Luckily, I have “protection” on it, so I was able to order a replacement at a lower cost (still too much though ). Unluckily, it’s on back order so I have to wait 5 – 7 business days before they’ll even ship it! That’s a long time to be without something that’s ALWAYS in my pocket. I use it as my night side table/alarm clock, my camera, to send texts and tweet, to set calendar reminders, to check and send email throughout the day (both personal and work), to surf the web, to put blog posts up….I’m so lost!! (notice I didn’t say that I use it to talk…I very rarely use it as a phone LOL!)

Wish me luck with my withdrawal symptoms…I think I’m already starting to shake…

I admit, I like Twilight.. back when there wasnt obsessed Twilighters.. And now, there is so much Twilight merchandising you will not believe it! Firstly, there is imitation jewerelly e.g Bellas engagement ring (replica) and Bellas exact whatever that she wore whenever.

If you want a ring that matches Bellas engagement ring in the book.. Tadaaa! Purchase this cheap looking thing!

Here we go again.. Bella wore this exact thing! wow. Its still ugly though.

Now you and your boyfriend can have matching Twilight rings! (Cant imagine a guy prepared to wear this though)

Teehee* i wonder if it starts sparkling when you use it as a sun umbrella..

A Edward shower curtain! Who wouldnt want Edward in their very own bathroom?

Now you too, can sparkle with this shimmering body lotion gloss thing!

Twilight plasters! I wonder if they have captions like ‘I will suck your blood’ on them.. they are plasters after all!

Edward sillhouette! Just a question though, wouldnt you be terrified to wake up at night and see some person lurking in your room?

Now, if you pair this carboardlife sized Edward, with your shower curtain and sillhoutte, you can have Edward lurking in every corner!

I guess we kind of saw it coming, but the hair? giggle*

Twilight boardgame. No comment.

Now you too can have red lips like a vampire! Can’t you just imagine the advertisement?

This is’nt strictly an official Twilight product, but it’s pretty funny. Written by Gina Meyers, This ‘Love at First Bite Cookbook’ features Bella’s lasagne, Blushing Bella Punch, Harry’s famous fish, Red Velvet Cake and who knows what else!

So, now you can plan you day Twlight style! Wake up to the Edward sillhoutte,Shower with your Edward curtain, Put on some Twlight makeup, Put on some sparkle lotion, wear your Twlight ring, go for a walk with your Twlight umbrella and then play with yout Twlight doll or play the Twlight boardgame! (Or perhaps the Twilight Wii game)

And I’m not even going to bother you with the Twlight panties.

P.s For more Twilight food and Twlight style party things, check out

http://tarastwilightparty.blogspot.com

and if you want to see all the Twlight merchandise go to

http://www.buytwilightstuff.com/twilight-merchandise/

Because I’m stressed and constantly isolated, I am weak.  I am constantly craving attention.  So, although I wasn’t planning on it, I texted Hot Boss because I am just that desperate of a person.

Here it is…

(7:26pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: Huge party going on at your fave frat house tonight… You must be so happy!

[As mentioned before, Hot Boss lives across from the Ro Lambdas.  He hates them.  There's a "Morning After"-themed party going on tonight, but I'm missing out for academic reasons.]

(7:27pm) Hot Boss:  Woooooo can I join?

(7:31pm) Awkward Sorority Girl:  Hahaha I’m assuming you’re joking??

(7:31pm) Hot Boss:  Nahhhhhh

(7:37pm) Awkward Sorority Girl:  Well I’m prbly not going anyways so don’t worry, you won’t be missing out ahah

(7:47pm) Hot Boss: Hahah ok nevermind then

(7:53pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: So are you tearing up the bars tonight?

(7:53pm) Hot Boss: Maybe, anything is possible at this point really… You?

(7:56pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: Not sure, finishing up an essay on arrested development (too good…) then who knows!

(7:57pm) Hot Boss: Deadly essay topic

(8:01pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: Haha oh I’m well aware, my nerdy self is so happy!

I have never been so thrilled to see emoticons in my life.

Lesson 33 song: Smile, You’ve Won by Lydia

I’m swamped with essays, so this post is going to be short.

Basically, I was out writing some essays for school.  I came home and Caroline was crying on the phone to her boyfriend.  I went, “Caroline, is everything okay?”

“The scariest thing happened to me!”

“What happened?

“I was sitting on my bed, and a centipede crawled on it.  I wasn’t expecting to see it at all!  And with the spider that we saw last night, I’m scared that the critters are coming out!”

[Note: Last night, I heard a deathly scream in the kitchen.  I came out of my room and saw Caroline pointing at a spider in pure terror.  I grabbed Raid and sprayed it.  Problem solved.]

“That sucks.  I’m sure you won’t see it again.”

She starts to cry again, “I really hope not.”

“Caroline, I’m sure it’s just because it’s raining.  The bugs are seeking shelter.  It will be fine once winter comes,” I said.

“I’ve never looked forward to winter so much…” she said, still sniffling.

“When did this happen?  Just now?”

“Oh,” she said, “about an hour ago.  My room still smells like Raid!”

I went into my room disgusted.  Talking to Caroline makes me weep for the great feminists of the past.  Beyond pathetic.  Don’t get me wrong: bugs are occasionally terrifying.  However, I don’t cry for an hour over them.

Lesson 32 song: Buggin’ Blues by Kitty, Daisy & Lewis

i wish can be there
in the same world with
why, why i must stuck in this ordinary world
feeling alone and empty
regret my self have no wings to fly there
is there really a world that i want ?
laughing, screaming, and fly
is there really a place that i should be?
became what i wanna be
whatever the answer,
i still stuck here,
alone in this ordinary world

NO MORE TIME TO FLY…..

just a fake laugh i have
to force my feet to stay here
to walk in the common park
to say this is mine
does it can defeated my shadow
to whisper to the world.
to scream to the sky :

I WANNA FLY !!!!!

When The angel answered my pray
And Give me a pair of wings
Is this a chances that I waited so long?

BUT WHEN I SPREAD MY WINGS AND FLY
I REALIZED THAT
THE SKY IS NOT AS AMAZING AS BEFORE…

Earlier today, I was on a high.  I had great sex last night, a wonderful walk of shame with Starbucks in my hand, and the day was looking up.  Considering my life’s track record, I should have know that this joy was only temporary.

Hot Boss texted me to make sure that I could work extended hours on Sunday.  This was positive.  It meant that there was more focus on the bigger stores, and I was chosen as the sales rep to do well.  I was excited.

An hour later, I have this text convo with Hot Boss… Prepare to cringe…

(2:10pm) Hot Boss: No extended hrs anymore, just standard haha

(2:12pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: Haha first it was the starbucks letdown, now the extended hours… What are you trying to pull here? haha

(2:13pm) Hot Boss: You didn’t reach sales or you would have gotten starbucks… I need to see way better sales numbers from you!

[Keep in mind: my sales were low this weekend because Hot Boss flirted with me for 2 hours instead of letting me work.]

(2:14pm)  Awkward Sorority Girl:  Ughhhhh I know, I’ve been haunted by the failures of this wknd for days.  Apparently effort means nothing in this job haha.

[This is where it gets horrible.  I don't even want to write it out for you faithful readers.]

(2:16pm)  Hot Boss: I think I have the solution for you, something to try… Sales is a tricky trade… Effort doesn’t necessarily mean good sales

[Scrambling to regain flirting control...]

(2:17pm) Awkward Sorority Girl:  Hahaha so I should quit is what you’re saying… I see what you’re getting at

(2:18pm) Hot Boss: Haha no seriously tho, we’ll talk later this week, ok?!

(2:22pm) Awkward Sorority Girl: Okay cool.

FUCK

MY

LIFE

He has crossed the boss-employee line way more than I ever have.  Now I’m getting in trouble for it.  I’m never going to have a boyfriend.

Lesson 30 song: Suicide is Painless by Matt Costa

Society likes to ban stuff.

So they want to ban the new Call of Duty. Apparently this game will affect the minds of the youth. They will be able to shoot enemy fighters in a virtual war—nothing new in terms of video game contexts. According to some pissed off parents, this will ultimately damage the minds of our young-ones, and probably turn them into blood-thirsty gun-brandishers.

I find this one example very interesting to compare to the recent army recruitment adverts I have seen, that allow youngsters to play in virtual war-scenes. One fundamental difference between these virtual wars is as follows; Call of Duty is a fictional game, designed as a form of entertainment, albeit bloody (I’m guessing. Never played it), and the Army recruitment initiative is designed to attract youngsters into a career that trains them to kill, as a form of employment. I don’t think the creators of Call of Duty had sinister motives when they developed CoD. They created a game, to be played on a games console. The Army created a war re-enactment game in order to recruit potential killers. Namely disillusioned youth. Probably the kind of kids that will get out on the front-line and realise what a big mistake they’ve made.

I know which one I’d rather ban.

The public outcry over games and films is pathetic. If some lunatic plays a bit of Manhunt and decides to go and chop some poor sod up, then I’d say it’d be a good guess that he had a screw loose before-hand. If someone walks away after watching or playing one of these apparently terrible films or games, wanting to harm others, then I’d hazard a guess that they have great difficulties distinguishing reality from fantasy in the first place. There were murderers before films and before video games. There will be murders after films and video-games are banned completely. Probably more in-fact.

Don’t think I’m ruthless yet?  Look at Donning to change your mind.

So I was at the bar again.  I’ve been doing lots better though – I haven’t fallen onto anyone’s penis with either my throat or vagina in a couple of days.  It feels different… not really in a bad way, just different.

I was at the bar on Wednesday night and I met a guy there – sloppy drunk type of guy.  The type of guy who drinks while he dips that skoal shit.  Just… ack.  You know?

Anyway, Skoaly (that’s gonna be his name) starts telling me how beautiful I am and slobbering all over my neck while he spits in my ear and tries to whisper about how he really wants to fuck me – wait, wait… how he wants to “be with” me.  When did those euphemisms become accepted?  Like when guys say “I want to have fun with you.”  Fun?  Really, sir?  Fun?  Are we grade school kidz all over again?

So before he started the spitting and slobbering, I thought he was cute and gave him my number.  This bastard… he tried to go home with me ( “I just wanna lay down with you” and “Nothing’s going to happen”) and when I nicely said “No, but it was nice to meet you,” he actually did not get butthurt but started kissing me on the forehead repeatedly like that was going to change my mind.  When it was time to walk to my car, he grabbed my hand and said “I’ll walk you out” which really means, “Last Ditch Effort.”

A friend of mine walked out with me to make sure he didn’t try anything crazy and I thought that was that, until the text messages and phone calls started.  Between 2:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m. he sent me 18 text messages and called me 6 or 7 times.  Really, sir?  REALLY?

Something about me just makes men want to jizz.  I understand that, but I’ve also figured out that simply because they want to jizz is not reason enough for me to help them do so.

Bar Rat?  Not so much anymore.

If I’m going to get a job I have to put forth more effort.  Things won’t improve for me if I continue acting the way I do.  I can’t help it either.  I don’t know any other way to act.  Isn’t that pathetic?  I think that it is.  Will things ever go my way and will I ever get a job?  I’m tired of being bored all of the time.  At least I have food and shelter.  I guess that is all that really matters.

Tonight was ΛBI’s signature philanthropy event.  As to be expected, I was wasted.  I started drinking at 6:30pm (the function began at 7:30pm).  At 8:30, I was thought it would be good to text Hot Boss:

“My sorority’s having a charity event at _________ if you’re feeling philanthropic haha”

“Hahaha I think I’ll pass, maybe next time”

Fuck.

Lesson 23 song: Hurricane Drunk by Florence and the Machine

I met Frenchy 3 days ago in a chat room for fat women and the men who love them (those are chubby chasers, darling).  He really is French and really does love fat women – which, oddly, is rare in those rooms.  Most men in a fat girl chat room are really just guys who believe fat women are inherently desperate because we are fat – not always true (most of the time, yes, but not always.)

Frenchy immediately said something about being turned on and I simply laid it out for him.  I said something to the effect of “I’m not in the mood to talk about your penis.”  I’m already thinking this is the end of the conversation and I’ll never hear from him again – but I was wrong.  The next day he messaged me and asked me if we could talk.  He was kind – and sweet the way he asked me so I said yes.

We started chatting and 4 hours flew by – isn’t it weird how people on the internet always say that one – “Time just flew by!” – anyway, I digress.  We were chatting and he didn’t say a single thing about sex.  We talked about goals and dreams and family… life… whatever.  We got to know each other.

So tonight, he asked me if he could call me on the phone.  He said, “Anastasia, I want to hear your voice.”  Simple enough, yeah, but we all know there’s something behind that.  There are common phrases and words that men use to mean “I want to fuck.”  These include, but are not limited to:

• I’m lonely.
• I just want to hold you.
• Do you want to have fun?
• I just want to cuddle.
• We can just lay here with our clothes on.
• Nothing’s going to happen.
• You can just come over and have a beer.
• I miss you.
• Can I ask you something?
• I wish I could touch you.
• What are you thinking about?
• I’ll come over, we don’t have to do anything.
• I want to kiss you.  Just kiss.
• You make me feel (adjective).
• You’re amazing.
• You’re beautiful… so beautiful.
• I wish my wife/girlfriend was like you.
• She doesn’t know me like you do.
• Why can’t we just hang out?
• Haven’t you ever just wanted to hold someone?

and others too numerous to mention without becoming redundant and silly.

So of course I doubted Frenchy’s motives but still gave him my number – which is totally okay.  We started talking and we laughed and it was fun.  It was innocent and sweet and fun.  Then he started speaking in French.  I was donzo. Seriously, totes.  Just… done.  I said I had to go – it was so beautiful… it sounded like music.  I could almost see French on top of me, with his arms around me tight, pushing that cock inside me and whispering to me in breathy, rushed, fevered French.  almost.

I told him I had to go.  Did he listen to me?  Of course Not.

……………………………..Up Next?  S.18~Frenchy

Picture this:

Tuesday.  I’m at the local coffee shop working on an essay for Old English (yes, there is a language course on English spoken by Anglo-Saxons in 5th century Britain required for my program, and it thoroughly sucks).

My inner need to live up to my inherited stereotypical Jewish tendencies kick in, and I feel the need to indulge.  Presumably, I order a bagel.

Papers and books for my essay are literally everywhere.  The worker comes with my bagel.  I go, “Oh here, lemme make room….” and in one swift movement, knock my near empty coffee cup onto my mottled used-to-be-white Macbook.  A splash falls onto the keyboard.

Bam.  Computer screen goes black.  I smell burning.

The worker quickly drops off the bagel and flees the scene.  I flip my computer over and grab some napkins casually.  I dab up my computer and try to turn it on.

Nothing.

I ask my roommate if she can drive me to the computer store.  She says no because she has an essay due.  Keep in mind, I have just lost everything and ALSO have an essay due the next day.

I shell out money for a cab.  The tech guys tell me that I have to buy a new computer.  I call my mom.  She flips, but then calls Visa to extend my limit.  While waiting for her to confirm the extension, I e-mail my professor asking for an extension on the essay.  She promptly e-mails back saying no.  Wench.

I didn’t have enough money for a ride home, so I walked the hour and fifteen minutes from the computer store listening to “Somebody to Love” from Glee (again…) with tears streaming down my face.

Pathetic.

Lesson 15 song (just because it’s been referred to twice): Somebody to Love by Glee Cast

PS.  I got a new MacBook Pro, though… So I’m not too shaken up.

Read about one of the lowest points of my life at Desperately Stalking.

Find out how sick of a person I am at Say My Name.  And not the positive, colloquial use of sick — more along the lines of seriously fucked up.

I’m going to utilize pages to share unfortunate occurrences of my past… Namely, my sexual endeavors.  Nearly every single time I sleep with someone (minus my first time, oddly enough), something beyond awkward happens.

Check out The Rebound for an awkward story of the past.

Hahaha.. I know it is really not funny, but sometimes you just have to laugh…  The above screenshot is from www.examinarse.com  Seems like the owner packed his / her bag and left in a hurry..

While I’m here, I might as well post a few recent comments from HAPPY IX CUSTOMERS.

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I hope Google ranks this website in their top search results for anyone wanting to know more about IXWebhosting. I had been with that webhost for more than 4 years and changed all my sites to a different host just last week. IXWebhosting is the most poorly managed, technically incompetent and frustrating company I have ever had the misfortune to deal with.

Why have I been with them for 4 years?
Their webhosting plans were at the time and still are pretty cheap when compared to other competitors. But its true, if you throw peanuts, you’ll get monkeys. You are ok till the time you have a website with only static (html pages). That’s what I had for 2 years. The moment you have a dynamic site, have anything to do with databases, use pages in asp or php… God save you. I’ve had nothing but trouble for the remaining 2 years pulling my hair out with every trouble ticket raised.

Customer Service
Its the most slowest, incompetent buffoons I’ve ever interacted with. Every ticket raised takes a minimum of 14 hours to be verified. Their typical replies are “everything’s ok at their end”. They do not understand your query, nor can they understand any technical issues.

Spam-
I lived with spam in each of our mailboxes for all the time I’ve ben with IXWebhosting. Spam is like its brother. Besides having issues with our mail disappearing from our mailboxes (their backup could only restore some of it as it was infrequently taken), I had to put up with tons of spam. At the time of writing this, I believe they have made the web access to the email accounts over https, but still, my experience with them was ghastly.

Server Security-
My websites were hacked many a times. Their servers are easily vulnerable to anybody. I will rate my expertise with networks and security at advanced. To test the security I have hacked into my own hosting webserver and seen the list of domains, their entire contents by simply installing a ridiculous script. I raised this issue in a trouble ticket and the response was.. you guessed it..”everything’s ok at their end”

Their famed easy to use preloaded scripts (Easy Apps collection)-
It is user friendly to install, I’ll agree. But every one of them is completely outdated, buggy to customize and of course vulnerable to hacks. Their excuse- Its the entire collection of scripts that they install when they update the server software (maybe years before). The scripts in them cannot be changed or upgraded.

Final Comments-
If you have a simple website with a couple of html pages and you don’t mind spam, if your wesite is hacked or defaced, its good value for cheap hosting.
Otherwise, Avoid Them Like The Plague… as someone else wrote in here.

I am not affiliated with anyone or anything from anywhere and all the experiences above are my own.
Archie H

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We have been using IX for a long time. First thing that happended was that they allowed my EX-Wife access to my account after we were divorced because she has paid by her credit card at one point for one domain name. They changed the admin panel and allowed her full access to everything because she did not pay for her domain and called them! MORORNS! We have a pro business account and they allowed her access to customers account info, OMG what a night mare! Finally after getting the police involved they fixed it. Now 3 out of 7 of our accounts have been hacked… We have not done or changed anything, in fact the accounts that have been hacked are just place holders for domanins… I have asked it to be fixed from backup 4 times so far and as of yet nothing… I am just in the process of moveing everything to a new local box and say GOOD BYE loosers!
Michael

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Server vulnerable to hacking, infected our site, IX Web Hosting refused to acknowledge or address, arbitrarily shut us down. Luckily, we had just completed set up with an alternative server and this didn’t cost us the significant downtime, money and trouble it could have. AVOID them like the plague!
Dayl

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In the beginning (up to a year ago) everything was fine. Now I have had so many problems that today I have changed my hosting company and left ix-webhosting and went to BlueHost.

My problems:
1. extremely slow server response (average response to a simple html page over 5 seconds). Regularly browser says: no server response. My customers are complaining. Maintaining my blog is almost impossible
2. ftp regularly does not work (complaint by server: too many clients, but I have just one ftp connection open)
3. average response time of trouble ticket about 24 hrs
4. tremendous problems in upgrading from php4 to php5 (I had to change ix-webhosting servers), without any help from them. They offered me help but that would cost me over 200$
5. their mysql server is slow

When I complain to them they tell me these problems are temporary and that they are about to improve it all.
Ad

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Once again I have had a horrible experience with IX WebHosting. Here is a list of issues that I exprienced over the last year of being with them:

1. The password to the control panel keeps getting reset and I know for a fact that only a select few have access. Any changes made by those few are logged and disseminated to the rest. When I ask I am made to look like “what’s the big deal?”

2. They NEVER return calls and almost never update tickets except to close it and say that it was your fault. They refer you to the “system admin” who is a ghost as far as I am concerned then are quick to tell you that they can’t do anything else to help you.

3. Press as you might the cannot suggest when the problem can be fixed. It is like they think that your business and clients that are affected by problems don’t matter.

4. Their first level support are unskillful googlers who waste no time in presenting irrelevant rubbish explanations that clearly shows that they have missed the basics of training.

Most Recent Exerience:

Unfortunately they host my mail (haven’t gotten around to hosting my own as yet). One of my customers suddenly cannot send me any mail from their domain, at least I no longer receive it on my domain hosted with IX Webhosting.

My customer had a recent SPAM issue that was resolved however they were not blacklisted. All this time I was receiving mail fine. However a while after the issues is resolved I cannot receive any mail from them.

I try chat support who quickly tells me that I need to call in to report the problem.

ok I call and some guy is trying desparately to convince me that there is a problem with the MX records of my client. And even though I tell him that mxtoolbox gives me a clean report and also that my hosted mail is the only domain that is not receiving mail from my client along with other information he refuses listen. Eventually he gets tired and tells me that he has to get a system admin to call me back.

24 hrs later no call from any admin and I decide to log a ticket myself and describe the problem – no response.

I call back again and a young lady informs me that the issue was left untouched, whatever that means and puts me on hold after every question I answer. She then routes it to the “correct” queue and pomises me that I will receive a call.

24 hrs later no call and no update other than hers that says the call is on hold.

I update the ticket to ask what is going on?

12 hrs later no response so I call and was informed that since I updated the ticket to ask a question it was reverted to the end of the queue. Apparently I was punished for quering the status on my issue….

Another young lady can give me no indication as to an estimated resoution time or at least response time.

I ask for her supervisor who refused to give me his name but was quick to tell me that I would have to wait until the admins got around to looking at the problem.

He didn’t think it was reasonable for them to at least update the ticket and was quick to tell me that “we are just the phones” and that they couldn’t escalate beyond redirecting my problem to the admin queue. They would get to it whenever they can and I would have to wait…”there are other customers ya know?” so I have absolutely no idea how long I will be in that queue. His entire tone suggested that he had worked a tripple shift and was tired and grumpy or he simply couldn’t be bothered. Meanwhile I embarasingly have to tell my customer that I am in the process of moving my mail services which after this I definitely will.

It really upsets me when companies like this get away with such horrible service.

The least you owe your customer as a service provider is a timely and honest update(s) especially when there is a problem. Lack of communications leaves people to assume the worst and suggests that the customer is not important. It does not matter where the fault lies – you are providing a service and it should be your obligation to protect the reputaion of that service by open communications to the client at all times. As an IT consultant I can personally attribute the retension of my business not to my knowledge as much as to ensuring that my customers are always informed and have open access to me. Many times it has been my saving grace during the few hiccups I have made over the years.
Anson

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Ordered web hosting form them on Thurs. pm, finally setup on Fri. However, could not upload web since FP extensions were not installed; I installed them from the panel. Long story, several calls to tech support, they can not get the FT issues resolved; moved up to admin. Called over the weekend and told it would be 24 hours…I had to wait in the queue. On Monday afternoon I was told give them another 4 -5 hours. I cancelled later that night about 10 pm…issue not resolved. Tech support was useless. They did offer 2 months extra time if I stayed. After 30 days I would have los the $$; they did refund my $$. I had used them for a couple years in the past without too many issues, site did go down several times. Not recommended.
Rick

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And the list goes on and on and on, but that makes good posting for another time.

I will be honest with you.  I develop obsessions with fictional characters and/or celebrities to occupy myself from the bland pond of boring guys at my school.  I compulsively check celebrity blogs about 10 times a day.  I have four life plans established with each one involving a casual rendez-vous with Zac Efron where he falls madly in love with me and we live happily ever after.  Not a word of a lie.  Maybe I’ll blog about this sometime….

This afternoon, I skipped out on class to see New Moon with my best friend, Maia.  Now, as an English major, I understand that the Twilight series is junk in terms of construction.  The plots for each novel are slapped together, the premise is relatively boring considering all of the fictional elements, and Meyers can’t write to save her life.  However, I applaud the series for its entertainment value.  Two summers ago, I read the first three books in four days.  I had to take 45-minute breaks every few chapters to sob in a fetal position for the following reasons:

• Vampires don’t exist
• Bella sucks but Edward loves her (a conundrum that constantly boggles my  mind… the infamous WHY HER? scenario)
• And lastly, it’s pathetic that I develop stronger connections with fictional characters than people I know in reality

You may be thinking to yourself, “Awkward Sorority Girl obviously didn’t incessantly cry in a fetal position over Twilight.  She would be a major loser is she did that!”  Well, it’s the truth.  Please don’t leave this blog.

As an avid Twilight fan, I was an unwavering member of Team Edward… Until now.  Taylor Lautner gave my inner pedophile a giant hug today.  The fact that he is 17-years-old may thwart some potential fans, but it only turns me on even more.  He has been on this world since 1992, but managed to put on 27 pounds of muscle all in hopes of keeping his role as Jacob Black.  Ambition like that is seldom found among people my age, let alone a freaking child.

Do me, Taylor Lautner.

Rest assured, blog fans: despite the realized “shortcomings” of yesterday, Awkward Sorority Girl will sleep peacefully tonight.

Lesson 17 song: Children by Delta Spirit

My parents wanted me to suffer. They got mad when their little mistake came out with exterior genitalia and they immediately thought: how can we make sure this child experiences constant hardship throughout their life without doing anything tangible to be blamed for? So they named me Elf. The first gnome ever discovered was a wooden carved statue in northern Sweden with the name Nisse carved into the pedestal. Thus my parents; people who grew up small and were going to raise me a vegetarian – people who knew my fate of an adolescence cursed with miniature stature, decided to name me after one of santa’s little helpers.

This name also offered an opportunity for my late-blooming puberty to offer me even more hardships in the form of misunderstanding the gender of my name and therefore being. And it assured that I would never have my name pronounced right the first time and each first day of class would start with the entirety of my schoolmates laughing at the teacher’s earnest attempt at reading a foreign word. This name caused a bird-apocalypse with one stone.

I no longer have first days of class, I now grow too much gross scraggly hair on my body to be confused for a female, and I stand a reasonably tall 5′9″, so the name has lost some of its power. That is not to say that my parents’ desire to see my constantly suffer has not come to fruition. Now I deal with an introduction conversation that is so routine that I begin answering people’s questions before they ask them. [What was your name? - Nisse - Wh..- It's Swedish. - How.. - My mom's Swedish. - And.. - It means elf. - (Then they say something that I don't listen to but I laugh afterward because I know that they attempted to tell a joke)] Now I deal with girls who get excited about my name because they are “obsessed with gnomes” (This is far more common than any of you assume) – girls who have high pitched voices and were treated well in middle school. Girls who remember fondly the time when they thought leprechauns and Santa and the Easter Bunny, but now recognize that it’s not cool to like those things and therefore go for the Arcade Fire of the imaginary being world – gnomes. The girl who is the hipster child. The girl I typically have no interest in but is always attractive in a mousey brunette with old navy shirts and capris sort of way.

Then I get stuck being told that I need to understand when you weigh as little as I, and when you dress as absurdly as I, and have as little sexual confidence as I, that I need to count my lucky that Miss. Mousey and Typically Attractive talks to me let alone wants to let me make out with her. And, yes that is all Mousey desires. Mice don’t like to fuck. Why do I weigh so little? My parents raised me to not eat meat. Why do i dress so absurdly? Because my parents lined my dressers with free health-food t-shirts. Why do I have such pitiful sexual confidence? My name is Nisse. And this forces me in this pathetic cycle of being told to keep chasing mice that I don’t want to chase.

So I thank my parents. Because without their desire to torture me, I might have turned out sans neurosis. I could be sitting in an office married to some vaguely mousey girl who went to Boston University with me instead of typing hateful words while sitting in a pile of my own peanut butter and jelly sandwich crumbs with fresh memories of female rejection swarming my head.

Thanks for not letting me become boring.