Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Cocktail Snobs and Ivy League Strippers

When I went to [my friend's] mixer, I felt a strong sense of the uneasiness I have always felt around Ivy League upper class. I suddenly felt as though I didn't speak as well, wasn't sharp enough, refined enough, and that I was somehow an poser/fraud who sneaked in the side door.

I find myself gravitating towards the less beautiful and the less rich, those with less status, at such events - anybody else who might also have the sneaky suspicion that they don't belong and are only politely tolerated.

Part of me wants to say that I don't belong with a bunch of phony snobs, but another part of me wonders if perhaps I secretly want to be accepted by them. My own insecurity is followed by a backlash of sneering. Sour Grapes.

The person I spent the longest time talking to was a woman who went to Yale but spent a year as a stripper. I think she has experienced some of the same ambivalence about elitism that I have. I'm not sure I agree with the whole "stripping as feminist empowerment thing" but at least she was friendly and didn't look down on anyone.

Not even my friends read this blog anymore. What am I writing it for?

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Living in My Head

Twice in the last two days I have found myself driving in a mental state of complete disorientation. I nearly drove into traffic down a one way street in Santa Monica after a meditation class. Then, I made a bad U-turn into on coming traffic and nearly biffed. What a space cadet. Gotta watch what I'm doing.

I have a hard time "waking up" and "becoming mindful" and not "living in my head." The world is often a disappointing boring, uncomfortable place. Conversely, the dreamworld that I spend so much of my time living in is often safe and exiting . . . at least momentarily. For me, giving up "attachments" means giving up attachments to mental phenomenon, sexual and romantic fantasies, and other projections that dominate my thoughts like a heroin addiction.

I'm 22 and a virgin. My aunt told me I needed to go to Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous because she read that some girls can get addicted to 50 Shades-style romance fiction at the expense of forming real relationships. Thank for the tip, Auntie May.

I am disappointed with the people around me. I feel in constant danger of my life becoming overrun by ordinary, dull, petty concerns. I was weak and unfocused as a teen and a college student. I wasted the time I had. Now I feel like the buzzer has gone off and I'm working on borrowed time. Isn't it time I grew up? My god I'm depressed.

Is it any wonder I like to linger in the bathtub, lost in day dreams and hallucinations? You would too if you were me.