I have so many thoughts about this but they’re not clear enough yet to write down (but something about archetypes, excess, femme excess, manicures, archetypes, archetypes, grand images, wishing I was a U.S.A. so I could legitimately weigh in on some of the stuff and possibly understand JFK/Jackie Kennedy more, grandiosity). for now I will stick to trying to aesthetically imitate LDR in everything. my friend and I are planning our outfits for her show already, and considering fake eyelashes. nothing is too much.
also this is kind of absorbing, which is good, because shit’s going down (kinda), ie:
- my ‘not being chill’ is definitely not just ‘not being chill’, but more like ‘being oversensitive and reckless and clingy and dramatic and childish and basically the binary opposite of chill’ and this manifested itself pretty well the other night when I sent the girl I was interested in a series of drunken messages which wasn’t even meant to be a series but turned into one when I repeatedly pressed ‘send’ before finishing, which also forced me out of any drafting/conferring with friends for advice/consolation because they (the messages) required kind of immediate corrections so it was basically a ‘this is coming straight off the top of my head’ situation.
- some dude is interested in me after I met him while drunk (him and me) and high (me) and I led him to believe that I was perhaps not 100% a lesbian (which I am pretty sure I actually am) because of a super fleeting desire to sleep with anyone regardless of gender probably borne out of sexual frustration more than anything else. I don’t know how to let him down. he’s not v attractive (if I was going to sleep with a guy he would have to look like Ezra Miller, or that guy in Noah and the Whale, I think) but that could even be overlooked, if it weren’t for his disinterest in/distaste for LDR. even that could be overlooked, if it weren’t for his desire to change my opinion about her, like he’s trying to educate me about ‘good’ music, the ‘self-confessed music snob’ that he is. ugh. I am so totally over the bro’d-out music scene, and bros trying to tell me what to think about LDR. like they’re doing me a favour, the poor little stupid girl with her uninformed/mainstream music tastes!!! we must save her!!! and in the process we must let her know how Cool and Knowledgeable we are!!!
I had a panic attack on the way to meet a date recently, and now she seems to think I’m totally in love with her, because obviously she was the cause of my anxiety, obviously it was all about how incredibly nervous I was, faced with the prospect of her glorious company, or something. I’m totally sick of being this anxious, hypersensitive, overly emotional person - but what this girl should understand is that these are my own problems. she is not the cause of it. okay yes, I thought she was cute. she thought I was cute too. the being-interested-in-each-other-and-possibility-of-extended-connaissance situation kinda amplified reactions that I would have had anyway. that I would have had anyway.
and then it fell to her friend to tell me that ‘[name] likes chill girls. just be chill.’
and when I questioned what that was supposed to mean, she told me that ‘she thinks you’re too nervous around her.’
and okay, I’m not chill - whatever that means. (my New Friend said to me: ‘you’re basically the opposite of chill.’) as far as I can tell, ‘chill’ involves insouciance, coolness, self-restraint. which is - and my blog can fucking testify - exactly what I am not about at the moment. I mean, I think chill is okay, in some situations. but it’s also bore-ore-oring. and in the past few months it has become really really clear to me that trying ‘to be chill’ does not work for me, and kinda just creates this build-up of anxieties and self-consciousness and shitlikethat which is inevitably liable to explode at some point in time. so I’ve stopped trying, generally, and stuff is better and other stuff is worse.
but I don’t and can’t do ‘chill’, so it sounds like she won’t like me after all.
in summary, whatever: my anxiety has nothing to do with you.
I thought: I want to start a zine. [my city]-based.
I thought: I would be a mad zine editor.
I thought: mad in the good (i.e. fully sick, rad, heaps awesome) sense of the word.
I thought: what will be my zine’s niche?
I thought: it can’t just be young, emerging [my city]-based writers because that would be pretty much the same as my uni’s zine. Can’t do that.
I thought: must have images too.
I thought: words and images is done a lot. Which means is good. Which means also is unoriginal.
I thought: I know lots of girls.
I thought: girl power forever.
I thought: a zine for girls! Just girls! Where [my city]-based girls can do art about girls or boys or anything they want. But only girls. Girl writers and girl artists and girl people.
I thought: good title. Girl People.
I impulsively just bought overpriced eBay tickets to see Lana Del Rey. felt good about myself.
then found out Azealia Banks is born in the same year as me. felt bad about myself.
- where did all the cute bois go? I think this is a v important question in my life *on the scene* like where the fuck are they. ‘where did all the cute bois go?’ is something I think about often. ‘where did all the cute bois go?’ is more than me whining, it’s a legitimate problem. legitimately. femme sexual frustration etc. femme erasure even when femmes are acknowledged. idk. I’m thinking ‘where did all the cute bois go?’ is a case study/project, or it will be. also Safari keeps changing boi to boy and I have to keep changing it back. seems relevant. bois disappearing everywhere.
- ‘it’s because they’re stupid. that’s why. that’s why everybody does everything.’ I sympathise with this. a) because I’m lazy and this is an immature, Imma throw a tantrum kind of response to things not going my way, but I think that’s the only response you really can have, really, truly etc. b) no but really, why does anyone do anything?
a few things have happened in the past few days to make me all paranoid and think that irl friends/acquaintances might have possibly maybe found this blog. at first I was all like ‘OH NO IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD WHAT EVER WILL I DO NOW I SHOULD PROBABLY JUST KILL MYSELF I COULDN’T STAND THE SHAME’. but then I was like, whatever. there are worse people out there. clingier people. more desperate people. people who aren’t conscious of their own desperation.* I’m just being honest, I’m being confessional, vulnerable, I’m telling everybody everything. it’s, like, cathartic. or something. so in the spirit of honesty/confession/vulnerability/catharsis here are some things that I have been thinking about:
- my period is late. I’ve been stressed and anxious etc. I think these are linked. obviously there is no chance of pregnancy yew.
- I spend too much time Internet-ing. pointless Internet-ing. doing things like scrolling endlessly through my Facebook news feed (nothing ever happens), checking my emails three times every ten minutes, seeing a piece of clothing/jewellery in a photo on Tumblr and spending the next two hours trying to Internet-find it to buy and then NOT BUYING IT because $$$$$.
- yes yes yes yes yes Sady Doyle. this was written a while ago but I just came across it (via Marie Calloway) and it is relevant and also I am reading I Love Dick at the moment, that’s probably why. also this post was kind of spawned by it and the whole bit about: “It’s as if Chris Kraus started to write, found herself on the edge of that accidental, unflattering honesty — found herself confronting that other person, the uglier person, the embarrassing, un-book-worthy one that other writers try to avoid — and just decided to go with that girl the whole way through.”
- Diana (I started with her real name so that’s now a thing) is now a no-go. I don’t understand what happened (THIS IS ME IN EVERY DATING/LOVE INTEREST SITUATION EVER - I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING) but I can sense a pattern developing. the pattern goes like this: ‘Hey Jess you’re cute make out I like you let’s do things! let’s do things! let’s do things! oh wait now let’s not do things who are you.’ and repeats itself. is this normal? I’m not delusional, I know that’s how things go, they die etc etc. they just often die very suddenly and (I think) unexpectedly, for me.
- I hope if you did find this and are reading it now YOU THINK I AM EVEN WEIRDER.**
- also these were arranged in an order that does not correspond with how much I am thinking about each of them, to make me seem cooler/less weird. (even in my LOOK HOW WEIRD I AM post I am self-censoring and this seems wrong, I am sorry.)
* even as I type that it feels like an asshole-ish thing to say. pulling the ‘oh but I’m conscious of it so it’s not that bad!’ card seems kind of like calling ‘irony’ every time you (I) find yourself (myself) liking a Justin Bieber song, or something.
** look at how my defensiveness manifests itself, look!
I always end up writing about fandom. so much so that someone in one of my writing classes pointed it out. she said, “I remember when we did [other fiction writing subject] Jess wrote a story about a fan and [the piece she is writing for this class] reminds me of that. I remember I liked it.” I think what interested me back then and what interests me now about fans and fandom is slightly different but I don’t think obsession, adoration, idolatry etc will ever stop being fascinating to me. what I am interested in now is media discourses of fandom, especially considering most ‘fans’ in pop media at the moment are teenage girl fans of One Direction, Justin Bieber etc, and they seem to get a disproportionate amount of hate and ridicule, which seems to play into the hatred of the
American teenage girl more than a hatred of fandom itself.
I did an interview with a family friend who’s in this local up-and-coming band (not exactly a boy band, but a band of *older* teenage boys) who’ve gathered a solid fanbase of predominantly teenage girls, and how he spoke about them was kind of surprising to me. he was fumbly with language but he seemed to understand them and understand the obsession/passion. he brought up that he used to be a fan but there was an implication that it’s different for boys, and it is. I think this is to do with (and all these things are perceptions and discursive): girls screaming, crowds of screaming girls, girls being (overly) emotional, (overly) emotional reactions (esp to things that are not perceived as being ‘quality’ or ‘good’), which all bring up hysteria and hysterical women tropes etc.
the point is, I want to write about all of this but the piece is meant to be a profile of the band boy. if I can manage to tie it all together I think it could be a pretty exciting thing. I think it could be one of the best things I have written. that sounds grand and overambitious but whatever, let me be grand and overambitious.
I think we are both the clingy needy one. and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.text I just sent to my New Friend in response to her saying she is ‘definitely the clingy needy one’ which was itself a response to me saying ‘I am not THAT clingy and needy’ w/r/t my perceived annoyance at her failure to answer one of my calls. it is true. I am not that clingy and needy. but I am v clingy and v needy. idk, I think it’s just honesty in emotional vulnerability, telling everybody everything, oversharing, etc.