This month (I don't remember which day exactly) marks the ten year anniversary of the release one of my very favorite CDs. Alanis Morrissette's "Jagged Little Pill". This carries quite a bit of nasatalgia because it was a pivotal time in my life. I was graduating from highschool and entering college. It was only junior college. All of my best friends were going away to college. This album came out at a very significant time because I was going through so much uheaval, changes. Change scares the shit out of me. I can handle gradual changes, as most can 'cause it's just naturally more comfortable. But when there is a string of things happening, it stresses me beyond belief.
I got terrible acne over that summer, adult onset acne. It's one of the worst kind because it NEVER fucking goes AWAY. I went on antibiotics, started using tons more make-up than I ever had. Tried so much bullshit that didn't work. I felt that I looked absolutely hideous. I still hadn't had a real boyfriend in my lifetime. At this time, the end of senior year, I had a little fling with my prom date. He was a nice guy, fun to hang out with. He was in my Art and English classes that year. I was brave and asked him to the dance. He was the first and last (whew) guy I asked to prom. He was the first and last guy that I ever went to a dance with in highschool. Eeesh.
He made a great date. He brought me sunflowers, my favorite flower. We had a blast dancing, I even ripped my dress jumping up and wrapping my legs around him like a complete spazzzzzzz! Derk. So prom was fun, but nothing really happened in terms of getting the 'ol juices flowing. Though, I swear I DID feel a consistent boner on my leg that night *blush* (teeeeh-heee-heeee).
It was after prom and during the last few days of school that we started hanging out and consequently, making out. In the back of art class, at his vacationing friends house in the pool, in his room, movie theatre...yadda yadda. Typical teenagers, yes. But sadly to say, this was the first time I'd ever made out with a guy. I'd only shared a couple of shy, uncomfortable-in-my-own-skin, awkward, stiff kisses in my 17 years. Just never got the chance...(I've since "blossomed" and more than made up for it!)...so this little fling got my little fledgling love emotions flaring up like a spark would a pile of old, dry grass. Check 'dat meti-for muddufukkerrzz!!! I've been reading some artistic diary writing lately. It's affecting me. SOOOOOO, yea, where was I? At the beginning of summer, hot pants had a gig at camp as a counselor, so it was bye bye. After that he was going away to college. OH THE HEARTACHE!!
All the while, I was listening to Alanis croon about her failed love affair with the dude from Full House. I'm all..."It's Dave...yea, in't that Dave?" I was so depressed that summer and into the first six months of college. I felt ugly, I had very little self confidence as it was, I was in a whole new environment with no friends, I was alone. Really ALONE. I missed my friends. I started hanging out with the chubby little brat who lived next door that was four years younger than me. I can't believe how I let that little bitch treat me. I hated myself. I went out to eat with her the Valentines Day of my first year of college and my 18th year of being single.
She wasn't exactly a looker. She had pretty face, but a snotty attitude and a fat body. My mother had surmised from the beginning that she was a clingy, self-concious little cunt who enjoyed putting others down in order to feel better about herself. CLASSIC PARENTING OBSERVATION. Yep. So she's never had a boyfriend. She's fawning for some little pre-teen dick and has a passionate love for Jonathan Brandis (poor fellow, I HATE that he killed himself). My passion was still Eddie Vedder and mister prom who was *sniff* gone forever at this point. Thinking back, Eddie was a great highschool boyfriend for me. While I watched my friends get their young hearts tortured by love, I would go home to Eddie and listen to music while looking at his picture. I also loved to draw during this time...hence my incredible artistic ability. So we were eating and I was particularly depressed.
I was telling her about how I was missing hot pants (he had been writing me and said he'd come visit. Then I got the letter in which he said he'd met someone else...heartache turns to obliteration) and how a guy had been a real asshole to me at school. I did my old stupid shy shit habit though, asking a friend in class to tell him I liked him. So immature and insecure of me. So unattractive to the opposite sex. Especially at that age. So he basically said, "Uh, no thanks. I usually go for cuter ones." I found out what a nice "friend" the other person was, as she told me this verbatim. Ouch. Really stabs an acne ridden dork. I'm telling this to the little bitch and I start crying. She says, "Aww, don't cry... you're not THAT ugly..." I got really PISSED at that and demanded we go home. I dropped her off and went straight to my room. I put on Alanis and cried my eyes out. My heart had that horribly heavy feeling. Physically aching.
*Ahem*
It was after this devastation that I (and my parents) decided I needed some counseling. I was miserable. They really started noticing my behavior at certain times. I'd go visit my one friend in college and have a terrible time. It was great seeing her, but I'd get so depressed because I felt so left out. I was jealous of college life, wanted to do it myself but was too afraid. Something was holding me back. I had to take it one step at a time, start with junior college. The self-loathing was rediculous. I'd just end up being stoned all weekend feeling sorry for myself...comparing myself to all the cute college girls. But then I'd hate to leave my friend, leave that life. Only to go back to my own boring life at home.
No guy is going to be attracted to misery. That's one of the first things I learned in counseling after having it beat into my head with a shovel. And being put on zoloft. That shit helped a lot. It's generally prescribed for social anxiety and basic anxiety and depression. The counselor sent me to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with these things and put me onna pill. How original. But it helped.
I have come such a long way from ten years ago. I feel I've grown in leaps and bounds. I've survived my first real love relationship, I've finally gotten a permanent job (a feat for a temp-addict who's afraid of a career and can't make up her nervous mind), I've made new friends and strengthened old relationships and I've managed to survive on my own. Not to mention how much all the trials and tribulations have contributed to my overall maturity level.
So that's my little tribute to Alanis Morrissette. Ten years of the pill. Thanks...
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