Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Very Phony, Ivy League Voices

Lately I’ve been having the recurring dream of knowing everything is a dream. I don’t mean it in the cool way like: Is this a dream? Fuck yeah! I’m going to fly like a mother fucker and then have intercourse with every single rockstar without getting aids! God no. It’s quite depressing, really. Just to give you an example, the other day I dreamt about meeting Rupert Grint, I was acting all cool thinking that would making him love me. When that didn’t work out I tried, actually, talking to him, and he ignored me; I got mad, but then he turned to me, grabbed my hand and smiled… That’s when it happened: Wait… Shit. I’m dreaming, right? RIGHT? This is just lovely. Whatever, I’m not having fun anymore.

The explanation for this (or at least the one I made up with all my free time) is my lack of progress since I came to Spain. I’ve been here since August 1st and I have gain nothing. I still have no college or Spanish ID (I did, however, buy a lovely Blackberry)… Not my fault, mind you, I sent my applications in time.

I’ve tried my best to keep things going, or at least make myself believe I’m keeping things going by calling each college I applied to almost every single day.

Phone Conversation Reenactment.

August 1-15
Me: Hi! Uhmmm… Hello! Did I already said that…? Good morning, yeah.
Whatever University: Hey.
Me: Uhm… Yeah… If it’s not a lot of trouble could you pretty please check if my application is in progress?
WU: It’s summer, no, fuck off.
Me: Ok! Thanks!

August 16-31
Me: Hi! I’m wondering… How is my application going on?
WU: Is Summer still going on?
Me: Ok, bye.

September 1-10
Me: Hi! About my application…
WU: It’s in progress… Call in a few days.
Me: Ok, tha- hello?

September 11-19
Me: It’s been a few days.
WU: We’re going to send you a letter with the answer, wait for the fucking letter
Me: I’m still going to call, you know? By the way, good bye.

September 20-24
Me: I was just…
WU: Oh sweetie, you again.
Me: Yeah, hi… How are you?
WU: I’m great, thanks… You still have to way a few more days, you know?
Me: Yeah… I kinda saw it coming. Thanks anyway.

I know it’s been a while since I updated this blog, but I waited because I wanted to, at least, post a bit of good news. Well, now I got good news. Yesterday, I called Valladolid University and the conversation got a unexpected turn: “You’re in, kid. You’re so fucking in… Now, please stop bothering me” (Ok, he wasn’t that enthusiastic; but, I bet he wanted to be, if those etiquette rules didn’t exist).

Does anybody knows someone from Valladolid…? Because I don’t.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

My Sex Life is Lousy

I really shouldn’t tell people this… I mean, I really shouldn’t; but this would be a really boring blog if I just told you, people, things I should. So, here we go, let me just kiss goodbye the little self-respect I had left first.

The apartment I currently live on it’s not tiny, but it really lacks privacy… That’s why I’m glad that, while I’m still on summer break, I live with two guys who work and leave me alone on mornings, giving me… Some “loving myself” time. I guess everybody here can back me up on how uncomfortable it can be when you’re trying to masturbate (there! I said it!) while someone is knocking on the door asking you how much more time are you planning to spend inside.

After a mildly satisfactory experience on my brother’s shower (fuck… maybe our relationship is kinda twisted…) I thought about how different men and women have it on that area.

(Of course I’m not talking about the penises and the vaginas, give me some credit.)

Guys are pretty simple when it comes to their thoughts during the whole process. From what I understand, there aren’t even thoughts. Guys just grab a magazine, watch port or think about Megan Fox’s boobs, *insert a couple of faps here* and… Done. Which is great, yeah, whatever.

I can’t do that… And, since I know I’m not a special snowflake, girls will have my back here; just like in everything else in life, it’s a bit more complex for us. Ok, I don’t feel confortable speaking for the entire female race, so I’ll just stop now.

I just can’t ‘do’ an image, I need an entire situation, so I make up short stories for myself. Now, these stories have to make sense, have to have a beginning, a middle and an end. I just can’t be lying half ass naked on a bed, I have to start with the date before that. Even in my fantasies I get a bit offended that Jake Gyllenhaal carried condoms with him on our first date.

There are so much things I have to ask myself for the story to make sense. If a handsome police man decides to force my way out of a ticket, there must be a reason for me to be speeding up on the first place and why in the name of god did I thought it was a good idea to stop on a dark isolated alley.

Here’s a real life example of my train of thought (and god would I love if I was just trying to be funny).

Ok… I’m in a basement and I’m handcuffed to a- to a what? I need something that gives me the movement I need… A pole? Why on hell there would there be a pole in a basement? Old fire place? Stip Club? Ok, I can work on that later. How did she took me here? Did she planed it or it was spontaneous? If it was spontaneous why was she carrying on her purse handcuffs? Ok, it was planned… And if that bitch apparently has super strength she could also had taken the pole with her and install it on the basement. Perfect, problem solved! …No, wait. What kind of underwear are we wearing? Fuck, I’m going to need a couple of hours here and a Victoria Secret’s catalog.

Monday, September 6, 2010

In my Mind, I'm Probably the Biggest Sex Maniac You Ever Saw

I feel like embarrassing myself today (random need I have from time to time), and talking about my undying love for my brother’s roommate is the fastest way to reach my goal.

I’m not going to talk about his dreamy blue eyes, his tanned perfect skin, his wavy brown hair or his amazing abs that he likes to show off walking shirtless around the apartment… I’m sorry, why am I not talking about this? Pff… I knew I should had made and erotic blog. Ok! Who’s in the mood for a very explicit story about me giving this really sexy guy a blow-

Tonight’s show has been interrupted to inform you all I just reached my just mentioned goal (and a couple other things too)!

Well, I’m not going to talk about his girlfriend either (ugh…), or about her annoying (but pretty cool) 60’s dresses… Or her great taste in movies, music (and guys) that make it really hard for me to dislike her.

Nope. I’m going to talk about me, since that’s the thing I do best being incapable of talking to him without sounding like a complete retard.

Him: Hey!
Me: Hi! How you doing?
Him: Great, how about you?
Me: Great! How about you… I just asked you, right?
Him: …Right.
Me: Ok, then.

But, I’m proud to announce that he isn’t the sharpest tool either when he talks to me.

Another Example
Him: (holding a bottle of sunscreen SPF50) Is this yours?
Me: Yep.
Him: You need to put this on…? I’m sorry…
Me: I don’t need your pity, mister.
Him: No, no! I didn’t mean it like that… I was just thinking about the need girls have to get tanned- I really don’t understand it really, it’s ridiculous- not that they can’t look good- I mean… Forget it.

Can you imagine our children? They wouldn’t know what a proper conversation is.


In other embarrassing news… I decided to create a Tumblr account. I would be ashamed if I weren’t having so much fun with it.