Can’t sleep. Please excuse run on sentences.

I told my boyfriend about a time when I was 15 and a man I didn’t know told me he was going to come get me when I turned 16, whether I wanted to be with him or not. It scared the shit out of me.

The story came up because we were talking about a recent Reddit thread in the atheist section where a teenage girl posted a picture of herself and a slew of rape jokes were unleashed upon her. A guy I’m a bit acquainted with said that he thought one was funny, one where the guy said she was of age where he lived so he would only have to worry about abduction charges. I really do not find that humorous.

Certainly not the first time that I’ve heard rape jokes. Apparently they’re hilarious, and I’m just a humorless bitch. I don’t get it. What I especially don’t get is when a guy thinks his one line, uncreative rape joke is super funny but gets offended when he approaches a girl after dark when she’s alone and she’s nervous around him like he might attack her.

Well, maybe part of it is because she knows her worst nightmares are apparently funny to men. Men joke about raping women in their good ol’ boys clubs, when they’re hanging out and drinking, and in online forums and threads. Not all men, sure, but there are far more guys participating in and defending that kind of behavior than there are guys speaking out against it.

So yeah. Women get nervous. They get scared. Their nightmares are the fodder for your shitty ass jokes, and they fucking know it. Apparently they’re humorless for it, too.

Just a thought. There is obviously a lot more that goes into women being cautious when they’re approached in potentially dangerous situations, but that little bit isn’t helping.


Might as well go eat some worms.

I never thought that moving to Alabama would be as emotionally difficult for me as it has been at times. I’m used to moving. It seems like I’ve moved every four years (or less). I know about moving. In a way, I enjoy it. I actually like packing my boxes and unpacking them. You find memories that you had forgotten about.

I think it used to be easier because I used to be more of an introvert. I spent more of my time ignoring the world around me to consume the ones I could read about, watch on the television, or create for myself. Last night my neighbor told me that it’s hard to get her out to do things because she’s more of a hermit. I totally understand that. Even during my last year at university, when I was becoming more interested and involved in the world around me, I was a bit of a shut in. If I wasn’t in class, volunteering, or at work then I was at home. I hated feeling obligated to other people when it was supposed to be my time.

That’s changed. I want to go do things with people. People other than my boyfriend, even. At times I feel overwhelmingly alone in this ridiculous, expansive, suburbian excuse of a city. Grand Rapids is more of a city, and Grand Rapids isn’t very big. I suppose the biggest difference between then and now is that I used to get to see a lot of people whose company I truly enjoyed at work. Now? I see people on Facebook. Basically, I need to get some new friends. Actually, I need to get a job. But supposedly you can make friends outside of work/school/volunteering? I don’t know how you do that. I’ve never done that. Do you make friends at bars? Because I don’t really go to those. It would appear that my introverted past self is sabotaging me now. “Bahahaha! You will spend all day inside and alone, wench! ENJOY THE INDOOR LIGHTING!”

I guess I could read a self help book. Is there one about how to pick up friends at the local Target?