Existential Angst

As I was searching through my computer files tonight for an old resume, I stumbled upon this angst ridden little epithet from several years ago. At least I've cheered up somewhat since then...

The attention always seems to come from the wrong places - hungry men wanting to somehow pin down an elusive aspect of me. And me always shying away, never impressed, wanting to be alone in my bed with my shabby continual despair, my flabby repetitive jealousies and petty hatreds. Examining the small white scars of the years as if they could etch themselves into a storyline explaining where I've been and why I'm here. The crushing inertia of daily survival has spent my energy and exhausted my bravery so that I am too tired to flee responsibility or inevitability.
Doldrums coming on hard again and the constant fear of being alone; a shadowy finger which might press down and smash me no matter what language I speak, what far place of the world I try to hide. Fucking uncertainty follows me through my waking hours (which I try to make few), a relentless foe and surely the only thing I can count on besides an intense isolation which will gradually abate to vague misery in an endless repetitive cycle, rising and setting with my days.

The Damage Done

This blog was started on a whim; it was meant to be a (hopefully) witty and semi-amusing way for me to document all my silly dating dramas. And I have lots and lots of dating stories. Waaaaay to many if you ask me. The problem is that I don't know when its going to stop. Honestly, I don't think I can take it much longer. I used to enjoy the thrilling roller coaster ride of meeting new guys, I used to love the hedonistic indulgence of casual sex. The last time I had sex I ended up alone, sobbing in my bed at 2am. Its just not fun anymore. I don't feel sexy or empowered anymore. I just feel used and sad. I'm terrified that I will never find anyone who values me.
I saw a bunch of couples at the restaurant tonight. Most of them seemed really happy and in love. The guys were really nice. One couple was looking through a photo album together, laughing and sharing ice cream sundaes. Another couple was pregnant. I can't be jealous or angry but my heart feels like its going to collapse. I can't remember what its like to have a man look at me with love in his eyes. I can't remember what its like to feel safe and taken care of.

Gringa loca

One of my friends from work is a beautiful girl from El Salvador. She has a radiant smile and is sweet and funny. She practices her English (very good!) with me and I practice my Spanish (not so good)with her. We giggle together a lot. About a week ago she invited me to a birthday party for her friend's daughter in Redwood City. Although I suspected I'd be the only Gringa there, I was totally into going.
First of all, Latinos know how to party. There's always lots of good homemade food, lots of alcohol and lots of loud music. This was a FIVE year old's birthday party and they had hired a band, a DJ, private security(!)and a giant bouncy castle. As I drove down the sunny residential street, I encountered 2 other large parties in people's front lawns complete with banners, balloons, DJs, etc. Apparently whole block was celebrating something.
I love that the parties are not just for the kids; everyone was getting down and dancing sexy to salsa and reggaeton - from the cute 4 year olds in fancy dresses to the 60 something grandma. Dogs and kids were running around everywhere. There were glasses of blended margaritas lined up on tables, piles and piles of fresh pupusas and tamales, giant coolers full of Tecate. I was in heaven.
So, let me tell you about the band. I didn't know this but 'banda' music is a form of traditional brass based music from Mexico. The band was a whole line up of trumpet and trombone players, a bunch drummers and sousaphone player. There must have been 10 or 12 guys up there. They also happened to be quite young and cute. Very suave in tight matching jeans and button down shirts. My friend Olympia and I were sitting at the table right in front of them. A couple of the guys kept staring at us and giving us smoldering looks while they were playing. They did sexy little gyrating dances with each other, they even turned around and provocatively wiggled their butts in our faces. I was mesmerized. Next they started parading around while puffing away on their instruments. Everyone was clapping and shouting. They grabbed Olympia and I and dragged us out to dance. We were laughing and trying to escape their clutches.
At the end of their set they tried to chat us up and ask us out. Most of the guys were from the Bay Area and spoke perfect English. A tall cute one with a faux hawk kept insisting on getting my number. Obviously a total player. He kept saying "Why don't you dance for me? I want to see your style." I kept looking at his lips which were all swollen and cut up from blowing his horn so hard.
As I was getting a sweater out of my car, we ran into them again, on their way out to another gig. They were leaning out the car window asking us to come with them. I grabbed a $100 bill from my pocket (my tips from work earlier) and waved it in their faces. I said they could have me for only $400 dollars! A bad joke obviously, but amusing to see their confused expressions. Afterward we went back to the party and ate Tres Leches Cake. Olympia's boyfriend came later from the airport. He works as a cab driver in Vegas. He told me stories about how crazy it was there. Before I left, I gave everyone big hugs. I had such a good time.
I don't understand it, but I feel much more comfortable in many ways with people from other countries/cultures, than with my so-called peers. With people from other countries I feel free, relaxed, at ease - even if I speak their language like a retarded 4 year old. Yet with people from the U.S. I feel out of the loop - I don't get the pop culture and TV references (and I don't care), uncomfortable about my body and my clothes, hyper-aware of all the subtle undercurrents of the social scene. I feel invisible and unacknowledged by the men, subtlely judged by the women.
I've always felt like an outsider. Growing up on a commune in the woods with no electricity and being home-schooled until age nine will do that to you. Am I fetishizing and romanticizing different cultures?! Or do I feel comfortable with people from other cultures because they are outsiders in this country too?! Maybe a little bit of both...