Seperis (seperis) wrote,

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so it was that kind of a night

I hurt everywhere, even in muscles that didn't exist before yesterday. I'd like to thank the inventor of the jet ski for the fact I am in the kinds of pain usually associated with major surgery. Also, I had a shitty night.

This is what I get for going out for one of those "normal life" things that everyone's always making noise about. Screw that. Me and laptop are OTP.

Right. A long, sordid tale of jetski crashing, bad porn, and how it turns out that I can multitask like no one's business.

I did two things when I got home last night. I called my friend Vannezsa and made her come over to comfort me, then I got on AIM, talked to svmadelyn to get fangirl indulgence, because I seriously needed both.

It starts, as so many things are wont to do, with my sister saying, hey, there's this guy....which led to me, for reasons that at this point seem insane, to going with her, the new guy, and his friend to Lake Travis for jetsking.

The thing is, I was nineteen the last time I got on one of those, and the nice boy who taught me was not Mr. Risktaker, so I thought it would be an enjoyable few hours of fun speed on water. I was so wrong. I have never hurt like this before, I am chafed in places that should not be chafed, and then I tried to drive the fucker and--there was this thing? Where it pulled me back so I couldn't loosen the throttle? The wipe-out was epic, and led to

a.) shoulder pain, current, wishing for death
b.) elbow pain, current, wishing for death
c.) chafing in Places We Will Not Discuss, wishing for death
d.) back pain, see above.
e.) calf pain, see above
f.) why am I annotating a list? The only thing that doesn't hurt is my hair.

Oh my GOD we were going like, the freaking fastest when I did my impression of Lex going off a bridge and I think I'm just lucky I didn't get knocked out, becuase I hit the water very, very hard with inertia still putting me at the speed of the jetski in question before water like concrete slowed me down. IT also scared me--I never realized that a lifejacket still keeps your head close to the surface but with the water so choppy, it was *too close* and I ended up fending off a panic attack becuase my elbow kept not working properly and my shoulder didn't want to move. Opposite sides fo teh body, btw.

Up until then, I'd been okay, but--it was a very disconnected okay. I was vaguely aware this is what other people did for fun. To wit--they went out onto large bodies of water for socializing. I am not one of these other people, apparently.

It turns out that my sister's latest is not a subtle guy, and so we ended up at his apartment with his and my sister's new porn movie. Also, my sister told them "She writes porn!" and I never really wanted to strangle her as much as I did right that second.

It's--the thing is, if you've been reading here long enough, you are already aware my sister and I have totally different points of comfort. And by totally, apparently, it's fine to watch porn with two guys you barely know. Two that I didn't know at all. Part of it is my general feeling that I should never have to be in the same room as my sister during anything even resembling sexual activity, and a lot of it was plain discomfort being there with a male I did not know watching something I wasn't comfortable with, in an apartmetn I'd never been to, that I couldn't easily get away from. And I hurt. I hurt enough that I was using rum and coke as a painkiller, and kept having to stop myself from drinking too much--I mean, I made sister's person make me coffee when I realized I was dangerously relaxed, and this really uncomfortable thought occurred halfway in. I'm five ten. I weigh around one-sixty. I'm fairly strong and under normal circumstance, I could fight someone off if I needed to, or try to get away. I've never, since I started college, ever been in a situation where I was alone and basically kind of helpless. And to get away, I'd have to get down so many stairs and in an apartment complex I'd never been to and wasn't even sure where it was, and I was basically almost limping along at that point, my legs hurt so much. I had called vannezsa earlier to ask her a question, and she called back and my first instinct was to get her to come pick me up. But dammit, my sister was there, she could damn well drive me home.

And that's where thing two of maximum anger hit--she asked the nice guy to drive me home.

Okay, maybe it's just me in this, because I sat through too many date rape etc lectures, but. She didn't know this guy. I didn't know this guy. But I'm supposed to get in a car alone with him, let him drive me to my house, and hope he was as nice as he seemed?

Urgh. Anyway. Rewinding.

So here is me, blinking at rum and coke and subtly trying to figure out if it's drugged and that maybe that's bad except hey, if someone drugged me, I'd forget how much I hurt all over. The other guy was very nice and okay, so I didn't know he was interested until the entire hair thing adn the moving too close thing and the *touching thing*, and finally I asked him, are you hitting on me? He had a three second look of utter amazement, but you know, I'd had a bad day. He said yes, he was trying very hard. In my defense, I was kind of focused on the fact that I couldn't move freely. During a strange, strange period of making out, I thought about my webpage, my son, how on earth I was going to sleep with my arm feeling this bad, wondered if he always liked women that almost killed him, how much my back hurt, how long I should do this to be polite, considered the fact that I hadn't made out on a floor in years and was I doing this right, maneuvered a knee into free kicking position should any stray hands go anywhere near anyplace they shouldn't, wondered if this was all the result of terrible, terrible porn (it was a four hour dvd that--really, people like this stuff? The TV screen was huge and it was--no. I mean, memory-block forever type of no), and verbally reminded him that there was no way sex was going to ever happen, then considered how my life had ended up in this place. This place is, cute engineer on a carpeted floor while I just wanted painkillers and my laptop and some coffee.

And through most of it, this really uncomfortable knowledge that my sister was in the other room, with another guy I didn't know, and that if anything went wrong, we were both so fucked.

It's--outside my immediate family and very, very close friends, (and apparently other fangirls, because I can fall asleep on top of them and be perfectly comfortable) touch always feels fairly invasive. I am a fan of personal space, and even the jetski thing I had to keep overcoming my instinct to get space between us. Which you know, if you've been on a jetski thing, is like a quick way to fall off a lot and get yourself hurt. I think--well, I know--that there's something in that either I'm just not willing to think about too hard or that something went wrong in my twenties that I don't remember. And a lot of it comes from teh fact at no time yesterday did I feel in control of the situation, that no one I trusted was in control, and that's a big problem of mine.

Moving on, got him to drive me home, he made vague noises about maybe wanting to see me again, I limped inside, made coffee, called Vannezsa, got her to come over for a lecture on all the reasons why I never go anywhere with my sister and how she has a cell phone for a reason, and next time MAKE UP A BREAKUP AND CALL ME DAMMIT. (She also brought me a cookie. I love her so much. It was an excellent cookie.) Later, svmadelyn set up some automatic strategies for me to use, up to and including asthma attacks and so the evening was not wasted.

I think the other thing that should have been put out there for me was that I was there not just in the hanging out sense, but in the hook-up sense and I don't do that. Plus, there was this thing where my sister and her person were trying to get some other girl from work to come down so they could have a threesome, and okay, what. The. Fuck. I am right there and getting more freaked out by the second. I am there for jetskis and later, Mexican food. I am not there to enable anyone's porn, and there was a bad, bad moment with Sister's Guy making appalling sounds about wanting to make his own porn and staring across the coffee table at me and wow, a whole world of no no no.

Okay, so. I have burned out every bit of social interest I have at this point. Me, coffee, and the heating pad right now are OT3. Feel free to share your worst night if you like. Honestly, I will take scheudenfreud to calm the way I want to call my sister and explain in single syllable words how she is never getting me to go anywhere with her again.
Tags: jenn's life, sisters
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