...I Was A Teenage Fag-Hag
 

 
The story of a NYU student struggling to survive in a world where the shoes are pricey, the IDs are fake, and straight men don't seem to exist.
 
 
   
 
Monday, February 16, 2004
 
I had a life-changing experience last night! It was not nearly as exciting or impressive as I would have expected, and I feel kind of dumb talking about it now. Since I had such a great time a few nights ago walking to Battery Park along the Hudson and back up Broadway (in the middle of the night), I decided to fill the void left by the closure of Pop Rocks and walk the circumference of Central Park. I'd always wanted to do it, but in the absence of mental turmoil 6 miles is a long way, and I pussed out. To make a long story short, I started thinking about death, became terrified of my own mortality because I don't believe in god, and decided that I'd damn well better start living a more enjoyable and worthwhile life in the tragically brief time that I've got. So I'm going to go to synagogue on Friday night, just in case I start hearing angels sing and can stop worrying about it. I'm also going to have a baby someday, preferably when I'm 35 or so, but since that may not happen I'm going to donate eggs to an infertile couple - I'll call the agency this week.

I went out with Erik and his girlfriend on Saturday night. He wouldn't let me dance with her; apparently he was afraid that she would be struck by my slut rays and reduced to a drooling, raving ball of lust like myself.

Had another photo shoot, this time with two other girls. It wasn't great; way too much time spent close to other people's razor bumps. Gross. I like it better when it's just me hamming it up in fabulous coats.

My roommate got laid last night and her man is still here. Way hotter than she deserves, too. I went to take a nap in the study lounge to give them some privacy (ain't I a sweetheart?) and had a horrible, horrible dream: I was sleeping blissfully in the sun with my old cat Chester snuggling up to me, and he started to bite my hand. I thought he was play-fighting, but when I tried to move my hand to counter-attack, my muscles wouldn't work. I was completely paralyzed, and as he started to bite harder and harder I realized that he thought I was dead was trying to eat me. Ugh.

 

 
   
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