We’re Only Human

As I sit at my desk, in my underwear, drinking day old coffee, eating a “sharing size” serving of M&M’s, and raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the Spotify app requiring yet another update…I had an epiphany. As your mind attempts to wrap around the thought of the beginning sentence, most likely determining that it has nothing to do with anything of any consequence neither with the topic of this blog nor of anything remotely relevant or interesting, I ask that you please, bare with me. And more to the point, thank you for excusing the rambling as well as the blatant and shameless use of an inappropriately placed preposition. Also, I apologize to the reader whom has taught me better than this, that has also inspired my writing in the first place…

We are entirely at the mercy of the spontaneity of life, and it’s mysterious jazz like rhythm. So much so, that to form a thought surrounding an idea so unexpected reasonably, that we first must jump to the worst possible conclusion. Good, bad, ugly (sorry Clint), it is preposterous to believe that some things just work. Always a catch, a slight of hand, something that just begs the question…what’s wrong with this picture? (the answer isn’t in the back of the newspaper, but it might be in Cosmo)

I will tell you what is wrong with this picture. The fact that we disregard that we as a species, as humans (and most aliens) are perpetually, inherently, flawed. We accept our shortcomings, our inner demons, even desires for more than we have as bounds to disengage, disappoint, and disempower. We dilute ourselves for the greater good…for ourselves? Who knew being selfless, could be selfish. Shamefully, I admit that I too had generally rather imparted impartiality (thank you english), than embrace personality. And in the last few years, I had grown even more loathsome, increasingly tired of trying to be anything other than myself. So I let it go. I took off my pants. I ate my bag of M&M’s. I drank my day old coffee. And I found out…

Our potential is exponential. And that rhyming is really fun…And that too many “ands” and writing without pants, is perfectly acceptable. As long as you’re you at the end of the day. And no one else. Being someone you don’t know and not wearing pants, while freeing, is widely frowned upon in most settings other than being in your home. The fact that I chose to drink cold, day old coffee, while living in the coffee capital of the country…is just poor form. Not to mention at this moment terrible on my digestive system. The point is, you cannot save someone else the trouble of life by not loving yourself…And you cannot be happy with someone else, until you are happy with yourself.

Also that life no matter from where you have come, has affected you. It has affected me. It affects everyone. No one comes from nowhere. Everyone has a story. A life. A tragedy. A mystery. A success. A worth…No one is perfect. No one has escaped unscathed, untouched. What makes us who we are is how we handle it all. What we make from what life throws at us next. How we move on, move forward, and that we keep moving. We keep searching. We keep on keeping on. Life’s a garden. Dig it. The rolling bird gathers no worm!

Okay okay, you’re probably thinking you’ve heard all this before…Be happy and happiness will follow blah, blah, blah. Oprah has said it every show for the last twenty-five years, and she gave away cars for listening to her…Well, I’m no Oprah but I’ve got something to say.

I’ve met someone. Someone whom has in a short time, become my world, a place and feeling I had never known. On the outside, expressive and obviously smitten, there cannot be a person unaware of my affection for her. Inside, immediately I was afraid. I was petrified. Thinking I could never…*cough* I tallied my score card of achievements, transgressions, good will, ill will, relationships both failed and flourishing. And I thought, and thought and thought. How can I ask someone to look beyond everything I’m not? Who can you trust with your fears, your failures, and the fact that you don’t share your M&M’s? How, more appropriately, can you ask someone to do that? And the answer is simpler than you think…

When you are happy with yourself, you won’t have to. And if you’ve found the right person, they won’t let you.

And I am. And we are. And you will be too.

My Life in a Box

“You know, there’s a lot of pressure to writing these things. Initially, I wrote something I thought women would want to read. Then I decided, I should really write something heartfelt and thoughtful. Now I’m thinking, I should really just write what comes to mind in the order it comes, and hope the person reading it can decipher, or at least make some kind of sense out of it. So here goes nothing…

I make quick gut-based decisions. Make a fool of myself frequently. Talk first, think later. Find trouble. Make trouble but generally only for myself. I’m rambunctious, outspoken, and infectiously energetic. Quick witted, often throwing the the first verbal punch in hopes someone will challenge me and return it. People tend to gravitate toward my energy, whether its from making a scene, or genuinely hoping they’ve found someone unafraid of putting themselves out there so they can too.

Life to me, has always been about finding extremes, and then balancing them out. I work hard to support my love of the arts, and hopefully in time will transition into a full time illustrator. I love to meet new people, as well as am comfortable being a homebody, but ultimately know life is better shared with someone. And that’s what I’m here for. I’m always looking to make new friends, but in the search for something long lasting.

That being said, don’t waste my time if you don’t intend on pursuing a relationship be it friends or dating. I value my time, and that of people I care for. I am more than willing to go out of my way for a good friend, so I don’t appreciate people who can’t at the very least be courteous and respectful in return.”

The problem with writing about yourself, is that the idea of oneself versus the idea someone else has about you, is entirely different. Every. Single. Time. Everything is relative. As such the case, we’re forced to generalize, and depreciate the many quirks, obsessions, and eccentricities that make us…human.

 

The Brush-off

“ I’d be happy to hang out again, I’m really not looking for a boyfriend. I’m pretty recently single and…am trying to embrace my independence.”

Gentleman. I would like you to consider the above statement while I surround this “situation” with evidence of malpractice. While I am no stranger to rejection, and have received on more occasions than I care mention, the “polite let down”, or as men have coined the ever irritating phrase “Friend-zoned”. There just seems to be an everlasting pool of “subtle” brushoffs, and so I say to you…Never trust a word. I try desperately to maintain a level of humility and strength, thinking “hey, it’s not the end of the world”. Another remark that not so subtly means, get a life. But, none the less, it isn’t, and what we truly should remember is that actions speak louder than words. Unless of course, one of the parties is is playing games. Which never happens…

If no one has told you and you haven’t figured it out yet; what is being nice and what is true, especially in regards to dating, are seldom the same. If you are on the receiving end of such an excuse as the one above, make sure to think before you act on it. What the woman in this case, should have said was something like the following, to best avoid confusion and unwanted attention :

“ I’d be happy to hang out again if I were interested, but I’m really not looking for someone like you, in a boyfriend. I’m recently single and enjoying the attention, but unless you’re what I’m looking for, I’m going to say it’s my independence I’m after, instead of the truth that I don’t want to be single, but I just don’t want to be not single with you. “

See the difference? I get the clear impression, that while we’re both single, the feeling just isn’t mutual between us. I’m not sure when it became popular to be nice instead of truthful, but I hate it. Not only does her response reek of insincerity, but as a guy, leaves little conclusive information in the following steps in the dating ritual.

Then the Aftermath

Then the aftermath. Johnny becomes a meathead, knocks up a teacher, and not coincidentally fails to pass Algebra…for the second time. Susie starts to sound a little too like Miley Cyrus, crying out she’s misunderstood, gets hooked on methamphetamines she learned about in an extra credit assignment and spends her junior year…exercising demons. In which capacity, no one is really sure. And let’s not forget the doting trophy wife with her tragic story. Luckily she was able to move on, after practicing a few self-esteem boosting exercises or “procedures” as they’re more commonly known. Her psychiatrist recommends getting out more, enjoying the fresh air, absorbing copious amounts of Vitamin D from the sun. All the more reason to purchase a convertible. I mean, it was doctor prescribed and everything. Even though she may have taken a liberty with his exact words.

But I digress… If you’re looking for the fantasy, there’s other ways of obtaining it for free. And the mess is only in your hands.

The World of Internet Dating

I fantasize from time to time. You know…about who could be out there. She could be smart…and funny. I dare ask good looking. And even now I laugh at the thought of it. That woman…she’s married, with kids, the husband, the dog and the shiny new house on the corner of Whippoorwill drive. Secretly I suspect, she is involved in some kind of covenant. Sacrificing stray cats that roam the otherwise perfect Leave it to Beaver neighborhood (they win the community-to-live-in awards every year). Empowering and encouraging her husband to work endless hours, always reminding him to make sure the family is taken care of… in his insurance forms. She’s responsible like that. And it’s not like he doesn’t know what’s going on… There are plenty of examples of creatures in this world that are willingly devoured by their mate. In the animal kingdom too. Who needs that kind of stress?

The Introduction

Well go figure. Who knew, that this of all things would tip the scale from hot…to not. You walk into this scenario thinking of all the possible outcomes, standfast to err on the side of caution, preparing for the worst. One must remember this is a war zone. This is not a date. It’s not personal, it’s business. Take it to the mattresses.

The worst mistake you can make is romanticizing the idea of unknown star-crossed lovers of whom’s fate has been thrust ever together through…the internet. Which incidentally is where I found this…woman. Moreover, if I had actually taken the time to read the profile, it would have told me, it’s not that we’re incompatible, she just doesn’t like The Godfather. The word “picky” may come to mind for some of you readers, but let’s face it.

Internet dating is about as humane as having a smorgasbord of your favorite food, each laced with varying levels of toxin, being told you can have as much or as little as you want, but there’s only one that won’t make you sick. And I’m hypoglycemic.