"So you're a planner," Daisy said to me yesterday, while we both sat on the floor talking.
"Hm?"
"You're a planner," she repeated, with a smirk. "You plan things. You look ahead, try to figure things out. I don't plan things."
She gave me the look. It is a look that I cannot quite describe, other than that it is serious, intense, and slightly skeptical all at the same time. It is also a look that is much more poignant and powerful when delivered in person and not via a camera on Skype.
She was waiting for a response.
"Mhm," I said, nodding and shrugging. "I am. I plan things, at least as much as I can, anyhow. It's just in my nature these days -- I never know anything with certainty anymore, so I plan what I can. At least roughly, anyway."
This is totally the truth, by the way. I am a planner. I didn't used to be. As much as I am a go-with-the-flow guy in general, in life, I'm also the guy who -- in the back of his head, at least -- has some sort of rough backup plan for every situation, even if said plans are little more than brief, fleeting ideas. Over the course of the past year or so, this mindset has grown more and more prevalent on a day-to-day basis, simply because I've realized I have many more things that I have to plan for. Or really, brace myself against.
Let me explain.
I've had more things happen to my life in the past year or so than in the past five or six combined, really. Not since I moved out of West Virginia in 2006 and came out here have I had more life-altering things happen to me which affected me on personal, social, and monetary levels. In the past year, I've survived the end of two relationships -- one amicable split, one somewhat-amicable (but somewhat disastrous), I've purchased a car and performed all of the maintenance on it I could afford, learned how to live alone in a house all to myself (less fun than it actually sounds), completed a second year of graduate school coursework (again, less fun than it actually sounds), taught five different classes of undergraduates how to write, and learned how to budget every single penny in my possession, with the added bonuses of halfway refurnishing my house and/or dropping $300 for car repairs (if necessary) over the past year, as well. With the exception of the failed relationships, all of these things are still ongoing. They are things I have to continually think about, things I have to plan for, plan around, and still try to sleep at night without worrying too much about -- or dwelling on -- all of them.
These are present-based things, as well. I haven't even mentioned the future yet.
I came to the realization recently that I will be thirty before I finish graduate school. This should not have been a surprise, really, as I'll turn thirty at the end of this year, in December. I've written on my thoughts about turning thirty here before, at length, so I won't bore you or repeat myself -- but the scary part is that I haven't planned for a life after that graduation ceremony in May.
Okay, well, let me be completely honest -- I had two different sets of plans for a life after that graduation ceremony, but they both went out the window after the dissolution of each relationship said plans were associated with, of course. As I've mentioned here before, I have no real sort of backup plan for this scenario now. My entire life has always been lived at the whims of another, or for others. Until 23 I lived at home with my parents. I lived and worked with their whims, did what my mother told me to do like a good little boy (with, ahem, a few exceptions she'll never know about) and never planned to leave West Virginia. When I moved out to Missouri in 2006, and to Kansas in 2009, I did so because I loved my then-girlfriend, and had made a simple life of working, paying the bills, and taking care of her/us/the cats. I did what I needed to do so that not just myself, but all of us (cats included) would live comfortably and survive, even if it meant putting any personal goals I had of going back to school or becoming a successful writer on hold. It may surprise some of you to find out that there was a long period of time -- three years or so -- where I'd basically given up my dreams of being a writer or ever getting a higher degree than my Bachelor's. I wasn't living for myself then, at least not solely -- I always had responsibilities, a relationship and a commitment to that relationship that came first above all of my own wants and goals. My stuff wasn't important; what I was doing between the years of 2005 and 2010 or so (broad strokes here with the years) was providing, was maintaining what I had and what I did on the whims of my now-ex. She came to Kansas for graduate school and I followed, re-entering school myself. At the time it wasn't so much about entering school again for my own betterment, but to have a guaranteed job and something to do every day which would allow me to continue providing and being a good man for her.
Of course, we all know that didn't last too long. By the end of my first year and the end of her second, we were done and it was over. I once more found myself without a plan.
When Lady came along, I thought she and I were going to be together the rest of our lives. Lady was a planner as well; we'd planned out what we'd do after I graduated, where we'd go, live, work, etc. For the first time since I'd moved out to the midwest, I had a solid, actionable plan. But, of course, it was still based around her, mostly. Still based around that relationship, still based around someone else. While it involved many, many of my own desires, it wasn't something I'd solely be doing for myself, on my own whims. When that ended? Yeah, I was once more back to square one, as they say, where I've since remained.
I have always put others in my life before myself. Always. I don't have life plans that don't involve other people in some capacity. I never have. You might have gathered this after reading the above. I've never had any true life goals aside from "become successful writer, start family, wing it." I figured all of the pieces would fall into place if I made sacrifices for some things and put some work into other things -- and for a while that worked. Now, as I approach thirty and I've got but one year of graduate school left before I am completely on my own with no plans (or really, hope) for the future, places to go, jobs to work, etc -- it is quite possibly the most frightening time of my life I've ever experienced, really.
And I try not to think about it. It's the one thing that is near-impossible to plan for, and it's the biggest. It's also the one thing that I have absolutely no true backup plan for in my head. The future, at this point, is all one big, wide open space that cannot be figured out, processed, or even fully comprehended. As someone who tries to plan for everything on some level -- I've always been one of those people who hopes for the best, but prepares for the worst -- it's the most frightening concept imaginable for me. I can't define the terms best and worst past the next year or so. I don't know what they would constitute, really.
"I don't plan things," Daisy said, shrugging. "What happens, happens."
I can't begin to describe to you how admirable I find that mindset in that girl -- that inherent sense of carefree, go-with-the-flow optimism that states in so few words no matter what comes to pass, everything will be okay. It'll work itself out.
While I'd like to consider myself an optimist most of the time, I'm not sure I am. Anything I'm optimistic about will always have a little sliver of pessimism and realism attached to it. While I can be hopeful about the future, about where I'll live and what I'll be doing with my life, that hope only goes so far until cold, hard reality decides to step in to say something like yeah, well, be realistic -- you're getting a degree in creative writing, and a degree in poetry at that. You could also be living out of your car in a year or so, depending on your job prospects.
I've also had serious doubts about purchasing something small like a Subaru or Honda when my Monte Carlo finally dies on me (because, believe me, it will eventually happen), and instead choosing something larger, like a minivan. Not because I want a minivan, mind you, but because if I do end up having to live out of my car in a year or so, it'll give me more room to move around and sleep.
I'm not kidding when I say this. Realism, folks. Realism.
I don't like these thoughts, but they're still there. That's why the future looks so frightening to me. I've never lived by myself, for myself, until right now. I don't know how to do it. I don't know what to do with it, and I don't know how to put myself first.
"You're co-dependent," Daisy told me a few nights ago. "You need other people around, other people in your life."
Maybe she's right. On my own I certainly feel really damned directionless when it comes to my future.
Actually, no, there's no maybe about it. I can't put myself first. It doesn't work for me. Never has. It's too...well, depressing and lonely. That's why I can't come up with any plans for my future, because I can't picture doing it alone. There's no such thing as true self-fulfillment for me, not alone. Not by myself. Being successful -- financially or otherwise -- is meaningless to me if I'm not happy with where I am or what I'm doing in life. And so much of that happiness or fulfillment for me hinges on being able to make plans, follow through on them, and work towards something for a reason outside myself. I think it's the exact opposite of being selfish. Selflessness? Yeah. To a fault. Perhaps.
Anyway. Onward.
Daisy and I spent about five hours together yesterday. I loved it. Our deep conversations are interesting as it is, but even more so when sitting on the floor, relaxing together, talking about all sorts of things. Being able to gauge reactions and thoughts, looks and laughs -- it's very different in person than it is over Skype or via chat messages typed back and forth, obviously. Her mannerisms are adorable and expressive, and she's someone I can now say I could spend hours upon hours with and never get bored of talking to, though she originally thought that we'd quickly tire of each other. Hah. Yeah, sure.
We discussed many things over those hours...let's see if I can remember the full list. Religion, cats (because Petey was enamored with a new person in the house, if in a sort of sleepy, cute-kitty way), history, war, politics, the death penalty, abortion, stardust, cooking, the fact that I own tie-dye underwear and socks, television, music, why I live here in Newton and like it so much, etc. She's a sweetheart and an endlessly-fascinating individual. I was sad to see her leave when she had to go, but she'd had plans to meet up with one of her friends in Manhattan on the way home (plans which ended up falling through, so she could've hung out longer if we'd known that). It was very fun. Again, I don't get to socialize much, and almost all of my friends are back home in West Virginia or are currently scattered about the country until the fall semester starts.
We're still not giving what we are a definition. No labels, no defining, no planning. It's an interesting scenario. Slow and steady.
Leaning back against the wall, eyes half-closed, she told me "This town is my personal definition of hell."
"What, Newton?" I replied, laughing, from my spot stretched out on the floor.
One foot. Remember the rule.
"Mhm," she said. "Why do you like it here? Aside from no crime and it being quiet?"
"It's cheap to live here, for this massive house," I said. "It's the picturesque midwest town. And nothing ever happens here. No, it's not a big city, and there's not much to do, but it's...peaceful. Tranquil."
I paused for a moment before adding, "I'm not opposed to living in a big city; I've done it before. I just like it here. For the time being, anyway."
My hometown of Morgantown, West Virginia has about 30,000 people, and its population doubles to around 60,000 when classes are in session at WVU. Independence, Missouri, where I lived before moving here, has about 116,000 people. St. Joseph, Missouri, where I lived for three years, has over 75,000 people.
Newton has less than 20,000. I believe at the last census it was something like 19,000, actually. As an aside, this is sort of sad, because chain stores like Kmart and Target will not build a store in a town with less than 20,000 people. I found this out while working at the newspaper here in Newton a few years ago.
The city Daisy lives in, however, has an estimated 416,000 people within its limits. Including the suburbs around her city, that population number balloons to 877,000.
Yes. I looked this up.
No wonder a tiny town like Newton is her idea of hell.
I will say, however, that the town I grew up in -- the town in which my parents still live, on top of the mountain back home -- has a current population of 517. Yeah. And that's one of the bigger towns in the county, too, population-wise.
I love Newton for what it is, but I am depressed and stifled by what it isn't. It's a toss-up, really. Nothing's ever going to feel more like home to me than Morgantown, though. The university's there, the mountains are there, and it has just the right amount of people and hustle-and-bustle activity without it being too much. All of my friends and family are there. I like the weather there. Even though I never want to live in West Virginia ever again if I can possibly avoid it (for a multitude of reasons), I will always miss Morgantown. It's a special place to me.
Anyway. Onward.
Daisy brought me a huge bag of homemade vegan blueberry muffins, as promised. I didn't try any while she was here, because I wanted to get them into the fridge after her long drive down here, but I did eat three of them in rapid succession last night after she left. They are quite possibly the best muffins I've ever eaten.
She wants to cook for me. A lot.
Oh yeah, she loves me.
Ahem.
Daisy's mother also baked me two huge, round loaves of crusty bread, like boules, which Daisy brought with her yesterday as well. I sliced one of them this morning and ate some of it, and almost fainted because it was so good. Those ladies know how to cook. Makin' a guy feel special. I could get used to this.
I thanked Daisy's mother in advance for the bread before Daisy even got here yesterday, but I will definitely send another message of thanks and appreciation sometime tonight, I think. It was, of course, very sweet of her. And I'm sure she'll want to know how much I liked it. It also saves me from having to get bread this weekend when I can (finally) do a bit of grocery shopping.
I get paid again tomorrow, finally. This is good, as I have $42.99 to my name right now (it took $25 to fill up the Monte Carlo's gas tank on Tuesday). I told Zedral last night that once my pay clears, the first thing I'm doing is going grocery shopping for actual food items and necessities, I am getting items to create a big salad to eat, and I am ordering more pizza because I deserve it, dammit.
And, of course, I'll be paying bills that need to be paid. There goes most of that paycheck, again. Oh well.
Daisy is going to be spending most of the rest of the month traveling to visit friends and family, and after this weekend we'll be out of communication for a while -- at least the daily, hours-on-end-via-Skype communication we're used to, anyhow. We've still got texts and Facebook and Twitter, so it won't be a total communication blackout or anything like that. She's been planning her trips for a while, of course -- probably why she wanted to come down here to visit for a day before she left.
Me? Well, the rest of this month for me will mainly consist of taking care of school stuff for my students and paying bills, more than anything else. Oh, and trying to stay cool, because it's going to be over 100 every day here for the foreseeable future (except Sunday, when it's supposed to storm and only be 93). Tomorrow's paycheck will give me a bit of breathing space, though. Perhaps I'll go to the discount grocery store this weekend to see what new stuff they have. I had to bring all of my energy/protein bars home from the office a few weeks ago so I could eat them here and not have to go out and get more groceries then, so I could stand to replenish those.
That's about all that's going on now, though. I will, of course, keep you folks updated as always.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Feet
It is July 3, at 3:05 AM, and I am awake. It is still 81 degrees outside. Welcome to Kansas in the summer, folks.
It's been a strange past few days. Not strange as in "bad," mind you, but strange overall. I've been sleeping really weird hours (when I have been sleeping, that is) and I have been busy doing lots of stuff around the house in the meantime. It's sort of been a restless, always-something-else-to-do mindset I've had for the past, oh, 48 hours or so. Two nights ago, for example, I was downstairs vacuuming at this time of night. Yeah, because I'm the sort of guy who vacuums at 3AM. Last night at this time, I was making a Walmart run for some small essentials -- because there's no way I'm going to Walmart during the day in the days leading up to July 4th. Noooo way. I'd like to be able to escape that place with all of my limbs still attached, thank you.
I will be paid again in three days. The money can't come soon enough; I have a few bills that are waiting for me (but aren't due for a few weeks yet) and a need to be able to actually go grocery shopping, get some household stuff, etc. For example, my car needs another bottle of coolant poured into it, as I know it's running low. It's not losing any coolant, mind you, but keep in mind that tonight I will be making a round trip of about 70 miles or so (give or take) for teaching, and I'll be doing it in 100+ degree temperatures. My Monte Carlo is old, a little temperamental at times, and certainly does not like the heat as much as I'd like her to. So, if there's anything I can do to, ahem, put her more at ease in this weather, I try to when I have the money to do so. Today, sadly, she'll just have to settle for a few gallons of gas before my night of driving her to class and back, as that's really all I can afford until the weekend. I have to keep my proverbial fingers crossed that she'll keep running okay and that my luck will hold out.
I heard from my parents again this morning; they're still okay, and their power came back on late Sunday night (a full four days or so before they expected it to). My parents took the week off from work anyway so that they could do stuff around the house on their "vacation," including painting things and other routine household maintenance. Life, for them, is apparently returning to normal. However, they've not been able to contact my grandmother (who is probably without power as well), as the phone lines out there have been decimated as well, apparently. I'm guessing she's gone to stay with one of my aunts or uncles until the power and phones come back up. As my grandmother turns 85 next month, it's not like she has a cell phone or anything like that -- she probably has one of the last remaining still-in-use land lines in that part of the state. A cell phone would simply confuse her.
I, meanwhile, have been doing stuff around the house, like I said. Last night I mowed the grass and took care of all of the laundry, and tonight I plan to vacuum the upstairs of the house (if I have the excess energy before I need to sleep/nap/what-have-you). Most of the day today will be spent on campus; I will probably have to meet with a student (the aforementioned one who is failing my class) and I need to print off assignments/check on my school mailbox to see when my evaluations date is. As we turn the corner now into the last month of summer classes -- I have four left to teach, including tonight's -- the month of July is already quickly becoming busy for me with multiple papers to grade, multiple assignments to write up and/or modify slightly, and multiple school-related issues to deal with as it goes. The constant blazing heat, day and night (for it's always hot in here in my room, at my desk) doesn't help much, either, but I have to deal with it for the time being.
I do have good reason that I'm tidying up the house and taking care of the numerous, various chores as much as possible, of course -- on Wednesday I am expecting a visit from Daisy for several hours. She's making a day trip through Kansas to see me and then to stop by to visit another friend who lives in Manhattan (where Kansas State is, about 80 miles or so north of me) on the way back home, and I don't want the place to look like a total pigsty when she's here. I do have some class; if I'm expecting company, I tidy up as much as I can. Daisy, of course, I want to tidy up for even more than I would for say, my friends. My friends at least know what to expect -- I'm a single guy living alone with his cats. Daisy, of course, knows that as well, but I at least want to make a special effort to make things a little more tidy for her. Obviously.
This will introduce a new factor into our relationship (however undefined that "relationship" remains) -- the true face-to-face interaction factor. We've had that via Skype, of course, for about two weeks now, but never in person yet. In-person interaction will be, I assume, quite different than simple Skype calls. I'm really excited, actually, which I'm sure you've guessed. Daisy is such a sweetheart, a truly wonderful girl, and I can't wait to spend some real time with her -- however short that time may be, as she can only stay a few hours before she has to head back home.
She's baking me blueberry muffins. Vegan, of course, or at least I readily assume. I told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to.
"No," she said, "I am baking for you. I want to."
She paused for a moment before adding, "I don't do anything I don't want to do."
That is certainly true. I've learned that about the girl, at least. I like it. Independence, determination, even stubbornness at times -- she does only do what she wants to do.
Whatever we are, this undefined construct of us, is progressing slowly on a day by day basis. We're still holding each other at arm's length, quietly doing our little no-labels tango. I respect that. I respect her, so very much. I like it, actually, to quite a large extent. It's exciting. Permit me to be trite or clichéd for a moment, but it's like a breath of fresh air when it comes to interpersonal relationships, to getting to know one another on a deeper intellectual level. Intellectual stimulation, we call it.
We've made a joke back and forth over the past two days -- though I am sure there is a bit (if not a lot) of seriousness behind it, of course -- that on Wednesday we will be one foot apart from one another at all times, or rather, we will never physically be closer to one another than a foot apart. It's our rule. I can't tell you how incredibly sweet and endearing I find this "rule" to be, to be honest with you. It's adorable. It's also a rule I can and will follow respectfully, obviously. Duh.
I know already that if she does come (though she's been planning it for a while, she doesn't like to "commit to things"), it will be difficult for me to say goodbye when those few hours of visiting are up. I want to spend days with Daisy. Long, lazy days at the park, catching a movie, getting coffee, and exploring each other's minds even more than we have already. The girl fascinates me, she intrigues me. I am completely myself with her, completely open. Our conversations are natural, not stilted or awkward. She is important to me.
So, ahem, yes. It will be difficult. But getting a few hours with her in person will be better than nothing. I am indeed really grateful and humbled that she's planning to visit. It's a good bit of driving for her.
And apparently I'll also be getting muffins, as well. Mmm, muffins.
I think the heat is taking its toll on me already this summer; no matter how much water I drink, no matter how hydrated or cool I try to keep myself, the constant high temperature is wearing me down. I feel lethargic or somewhat nauseated a fair amount of the time unless I'm downstairs and/or asleep, and I'm pretty sure that I sweat about a half-gallon of water every day. It's affecting my mental state as well; often I'll feel a little, well...murky or hazy in my thought processes, though that could also be due to my lack of sleep a lot of the time. I haven't been sleeping a lot over the past few days -- I've generally slept about six hours at a time, and then stayed up for eighteen-plus, if not more. Like I said, I've been busy. There's always something else to do, whether it's grading papers or mowing the grass or trying to eat something -- which has also made me a bit sick in the past two or three days or so.
Zedral tells me that a loss of appetite is a sign of heatstroke, or something like that. I told her that if I'm getting heatstroke when I've barely been outside in the sun, even, then there's something seriously wrong with me.
I don't have heatstroke. I think I'm just sick of summer already. I'm sick of being constantly hot, constantly poor, never leaving the house except to get a few groceries or to teach, and just having the cats as my only true company. I told Daisy a few days ago how truly boring and lonely it really is here most of the time, and how this is the only time I've ever lived alone, on my own, in my entire life. I've been doing it for almost a year now, granted, but even though I've processed it and have gotten used to it over the course of that year, it can still at times be a bit unnerving, or make me feel somehow that I've been removed from society. Isolated, hermit-like. While I love my alone time as much as anyone else does, there can obviously be too much of it.
For some reason I almost cried when I told Daisy that. I don't exactly know why, really. I haven't cried about anything in over a year, as far as I can remember, yet I almost did with her on Skype, watching me. I didn't, but I wasn't afraid to. I know she wouldn't have judged me had I done so, either. That's the kind of relationship I have with Daisy. I know I can cry to her if I need to -- I can be completely open, can totally be myself with her, and on some level I can't tell you how much that soothes me. Even Andrea -- my best friend in the world, and a woman I consider my sister -- has neither seen, nor heard, me cry.
I don't know exactly what this says about me. I'm not depressed, nor am I a depressing person -- nor am I a particularly emotional one (anymore). Perhaps it shows my level of trust for Daisy. Perhaps it shows just how immensely vulnerable and open I am to that girl. I'm sure on some level it shows just how much I care for her, even if I can't process that completely yet.
I'm also sure it shows that, deep down, to some extent I'm still just a wounded little boy who wants to be loved and accepted for who he is.
Daisy told me never to censor myself on my blog, that it is my personal space to process things and that I shouldn't change or limit what I write just because of who may be reading it. I agree with her. If the above statements don't show how little I censor my thoughts and feelings while writing here, I don't know what does.
I'm just a little boy who wants to curl up on the couch with a little vegan girl, stroke her hair, and talk about life, all while eating blueberry muffins.
Oh, wait, the "foot apart" rule. Shit.
I don't censor myself.
On that note, folks, I am going to attempt to sleep for a few hours before getting up to head to campus. It's 5AM now, and I don't want to sleep any later than 10 or 11. I have a long, very interesting two days ahead of me.
It's been a strange past few days. Not strange as in "bad," mind you, but strange overall. I've been sleeping really weird hours (when I have been sleeping, that is) and I have been busy doing lots of stuff around the house in the meantime. It's sort of been a restless, always-something-else-to-do mindset I've had for the past, oh, 48 hours or so. Two nights ago, for example, I was downstairs vacuuming at this time of night. Yeah, because I'm the sort of guy who vacuums at 3AM. Last night at this time, I was making a Walmart run for some small essentials -- because there's no way I'm going to Walmart during the day in the days leading up to July 4th. Noooo way. I'd like to be able to escape that place with all of my limbs still attached, thank you.
I will be paid again in three days. The money can't come soon enough; I have a few bills that are waiting for me (but aren't due for a few weeks yet) and a need to be able to actually go grocery shopping, get some household stuff, etc. For example, my car needs another bottle of coolant poured into it, as I know it's running low. It's not losing any coolant, mind you, but keep in mind that tonight I will be making a round trip of about 70 miles or so (give or take) for teaching, and I'll be doing it in 100+ degree temperatures. My Monte Carlo is old, a little temperamental at times, and certainly does not like the heat as much as I'd like her to. So, if there's anything I can do to, ahem, put her more at ease in this weather, I try to when I have the money to do so. Today, sadly, she'll just have to settle for a few gallons of gas before my night of driving her to class and back, as that's really all I can afford until the weekend. I have to keep my proverbial fingers crossed that she'll keep running okay and that my luck will hold out.
I heard from my parents again this morning; they're still okay, and their power came back on late Sunday night (a full four days or so before they expected it to). My parents took the week off from work anyway so that they could do stuff around the house on their "vacation," including painting things and other routine household maintenance. Life, for them, is apparently returning to normal. However, they've not been able to contact my grandmother (who is probably without power as well), as the phone lines out there have been decimated as well, apparently. I'm guessing she's gone to stay with one of my aunts or uncles until the power and phones come back up. As my grandmother turns 85 next month, it's not like she has a cell phone or anything like that -- she probably has one of the last remaining still-in-use land lines in that part of the state. A cell phone would simply confuse her.
I, meanwhile, have been doing stuff around the house, like I said. Last night I mowed the grass and took care of all of the laundry, and tonight I plan to vacuum the upstairs of the house (if I have the excess energy before I need to sleep/nap/what-have-you). Most of the day today will be spent on campus; I will probably have to meet with a student (the aforementioned one who is failing my class) and I need to print off assignments/check on my school mailbox to see when my evaluations date is. As we turn the corner now into the last month of summer classes -- I have four left to teach, including tonight's -- the month of July is already quickly becoming busy for me with multiple papers to grade, multiple assignments to write up and/or modify slightly, and multiple school-related issues to deal with as it goes. The constant blazing heat, day and night (for it's always hot in here in my room, at my desk) doesn't help much, either, but I have to deal with it for the time being.
I do have good reason that I'm tidying up the house and taking care of the numerous, various chores as much as possible, of course -- on Wednesday I am expecting a visit from Daisy for several hours. She's making a day trip through Kansas to see me and then to stop by to visit another friend who lives in Manhattan (where Kansas State is, about 80 miles or so north of me) on the way back home, and I don't want the place to look like a total pigsty when she's here. I do have some class; if I'm expecting company, I tidy up as much as I can. Daisy, of course, I want to tidy up for even more than I would for say, my friends. My friends at least know what to expect -- I'm a single guy living alone with his cats. Daisy, of course, knows that as well, but I at least want to make a special effort to make things a little more tidy for her. Obviously.
This will introduce a new factor into our relationship (however undefined that "relationship" remains) -- the true face-to-face interaction factor. We've had that via Skype, of course, for about two weeks now, but never in person yet. In-person interaction will be, I assume, quite different than simple Skype calls. I'm really excited, actually, which I'm sure you've guessed. Daisy is such a sweetheart, a truly wonderful girl, and I can't wait to spend some real time with her -- however short that time may be, as she can only stay a few hours before she has to head back home.
She's baking me blueberry muffins. Vegan, of course, or at least I readily assume. I told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to.
"No," she said, "I am baking for you. I want to."
She paused for a moment before adding, "I don't do anything I don't want to do."
That is certainly true. I've learned that about the girl, at least. I like it. Independence, determination, even stubbornness at times -- she does only do what she wants to do.
Whatever we are, this undefined construct of us, is progressing slowly on a day by day basis. We're still holding each other at arm's length, quietly doing our little no-labels tango. I respect that. I respect her, so very much. I like it, actually, to quite a large extent. It's exciting. Permit me to be trite or clichéd for a moment, but it's like a breath of fresh air when it comes to interpersonal relationships, to getting to know one another on a deeper intellectual level. Intellectual stimulation, we call it.
We've made a joke back and forth over the past two days -- though I am sure there is a bit (if not a lot) of seriousness behind it, of course -- that on Wednesday we will be one foot apart from one another at all times, or rather, we will never physically be closer to one another than a foot apart. It's our rule. I can't tell you how incredibly sweet and endearing I find this "rule" to be, to be honest with you. It's adorable. It's also a rule I can and will follow respectfully, obviously. Duh.
I know already that if she does come (though she's been planning it for a while, she doesn't like to "commit to things"), it will be difficult for me to say goodbye when those few hours of visiting are up. I want to spend days with Daisy. Long, lazy days at the park, catching a movie, getting coffee, and exploring each other's minds even more than we have already. The girl fascinates me, she intrigues me. I am completely myself with her, completely open. Our conversations are natural, not stilted or awkward. She is important to me.
So, ahem, yes. It will be difficult. But getting a few hours with her in person will be better than nothing. I am indeed really grateful and humbled that she's planning to visit. It's a good bit of driving for her.
And apparently I'll also be getting muffins, as well. Mmm, muffins.
I think the heat is taking its toll on me already this summer; no matter how much water I drink, no matter how hydrated or cool I try to keep myself, the constant high temperature is wearing me down. I feel lethargic or somewhat nauseated a fair amount of the time unless I'm downstairs and/or asleep, and I'm pretty sure that I sweat about a half-gallon of water every day. It's affecting my mental state as well; often I'll feel a little, well...murky or hazy in my thought processes, though that could also be due to my lack of sleep a lot of the time. I haven't been sleeping a lot over the past few days -- I've generally slept about six hours at a time, and then stayed up for eighteen-plus, if not more. Like I said, I've been busy. There's always something else to do, whether it's grading papers or mowing the grass or trying to eat something -- which has also made me a bit sick in the past two or three days or so.
Zedral tells me that a loss of appetite is a sign of heatstroke, or something like that. I told her that if I'm getting heatstroke when I've barely been outside in the sun, even, then there's something seriously wrong with me.
I don't have heatstroke. I think I'm just sick of summer already. I'm sick of being constantly hot, constantly poor, never leaving the house except to get a few groceries or to teach, and just having the cats as my only true company. I told Daisy a few days ago how truly boring and lonely it really is here most of the time, and how this is the only time I've ever lived alone, on my own, in my entire life. I've been doing it for almost a year now, granted, but even though I've processed it and have gotten used to it over the course of that year, it can still at times be a bit unnerving, or make me feel somehow that I've been removed from society. Isolated, hermit-like. While I love my alone time as much as anyone else does, there can obviously be too much of it.
For some reason I almost cried when I told Daisy that. I don't exactly know why, really. I haven't cried about anything in over a year, as far as I can remember, yet I almost did with her on Skype, watching me. I didn't, but I wasn't afraid to. I know she wouldn't have judged me had I done so, either. That's the kind of relationship I have with Daisy. I know I can cry to her if I need to -- I can be completely open, can totally be myself with her, and on some level I can't tell you how much that soothes me. Even Andrea -- my best friend in the world, and a woman I consider my sister -- has neither seen, nor heard, me cry.
I don't know exactly what this says about me. I'm not depressed, nor am I a depressing person -- nor am I a particularly emotional one (anymore). Perhaps it shows my level of trust for Daisy. Perhaps it shows just how immensely vulnerable and open I am to that girl. I'm sure on some level it shows just how much I care for her, even if I can't process that completely yet.
I'm also sure it shows that, deep down, to some extent I'm still just a wounded little boy who wants to be loved and accepted for who he is.
Daisy told me never to censor myself on my blog, that it is my personal space to process things and that I shouldn't change or limit what I write just because of who may be reading it. I agree with her. If the above statements don't show how little I censor my thoughts and feelings while writing here, I don't know what does.
I'm just a little boy who wants to curl up on the couch with a little vegan girl, stroke her hair, and talk about life, all while eating blueberry muffins.
Oh, wait, the "foot apart" rule. Shit.
I don't censor myself.
On that note, folks, I am going to attempt to sleep for a few hours before getting up to head to campus. It's 5AM now, and I don't want to sleep any later than 10 or 11. I have a long, very interesting two days ahead of me.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
The Great Experiment
The question that was answered, of course, was What does this mean?...
It was a hard question for Daisy to answer, I think.
I will give some backstory; my previous post was written on Friday morning. I saved it here, but did not post it. I didn't know if I ever would. As the third Immediate Dismissals post made Daisy think about a lot of things I'd written there (read: she took slight umbrage with how open I'd been in certain sections, but it passed after we discussed it), I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what I could write. Far be it from me to censor myself, but sometimes I can be a little too...what's the term...open. Yeah. So I wrote it, saved it, and waited for the answer to that question. I did not mention the fact that I'd written said post until tonight.
The answer to the question was, as Daisy also is, lovely, precisely-worded, and multifaceted. It was after I received that answer, and after we talked about it a bit last night (though not for long) and tonight, that I finally told her I'd written the previous post in secret, but had not posted it.
"I want to read it," she said.
"But it's not up," I told her.
"Facebook it to me or email it to me so I can read it."
So I copy/pasted it into an email to her. I had to read it again myself, because -- as I had written it when my mind was full of thoughts and I was fatigued -- I couldn't remember all I'd said.
I watched her facial expressions over Skype while she read through it, slowly. Her face slowly went from a blank, interested stare into a smile, and then into a small giggle.
"What?" I asked.
"The section on the 'accurate reply,' where you said," and she began reading it aloud, "well, she's sort of my girlfriend, and she's sort of not, because it's complicated and we don't set any sort of definitions on what we are or why we are that indescribable construct."
"Heh, yeah," I said a little sheepishly.
She read through the rest of it, and told me when she was done.
"Why didn't you put it up?" she asked.
"Um...I..." I trailed off. I didn't know if I could give a real answer to that which would make sense. "I was sort of...afraid to?"
"Why?"
"Well, because I didn't know how...um...accurate my assessment of the situation was."
This is true. It's the major reason why I didn't put it up. I didn't want to be too forward with things. I didn't want to read into things that she didn't mean or that I didn't know was true, and after all, I am very cautious with Daisy. She'd had a few minor issues with the stuff I'd written in that third Immediate Dismissals post, and this new, secret post I'd written took that much further.
I also didn't want to put it up before I read her long-form answer to the what does this mean question, as that answer could have invalidated everything I'd written. It didn't, incidentally, but I still didn't post it. On some level I wanted her to read it before I put it up, actually.
"Why afraid?"
"I didn't want to upset you or write anything you'd take offense to."
...which is very accurate. Again, far be it from me to censor myself, but this is a delicate situation about a serious matter, and I do have a modicum of tact; I tend to adjust and tailor myself accordingly. I can do this without feeling that I'm censoring myself.
Truth be told, I edited the Hurt Feelings post about ten times before I was satisfied enough with it to put it up. I now have a lot more readers than before (Daisy's friends creep on my blog as well, apparently, from time to time, as they're protective of her), and after all, Daisy's mother apparently reads it too. I am not so much watching what I say as I am keeping the private details of our conversations and our interactions simply between us as much as possible.
Yes, I realize the irony in writing that right now. I do.
"So...do you like it?" I finally asked her.
She turned to me, giving me her serious look, and said in her serious tone, "Yes. I like it."
A sweet little shiver went down my spine.
"Do you want me to put it up?" I asked.
"Sure," she said.
So I did. She also agreed that it was fairly accurate. Especially the part about the at-arm's-length, tango description.
It is a great experiment, really. Not that it can be defined. Not that we're going to define it, at least not now. Stop defining, she told me the other night when my mannerisms seemed as if I were trying to get a title, a label. It's not that I am, because I'm not, really. Let it ride, I say. But what I did say in that post about wanting to answer in as few words as possible if asked is quite true. I'm weird that way. Pay it no mind, folks.
This may be the strangest love-related / emotion-related situation I've ever been in over the course of my entire life, and you know what? I am enjoying every minute of it. Everything's an adventure. It's exciting not knowing what will happen next.
He is so very thoughtful. The more I learn about him, the more I adore him, she wrote about me, quoting a conversation she had at work yesterday.
Note that she used the word adore before she knew I had used it in my secret post. Oh yeah. Our minds are on the same wavelength, that's for sure.
So it's July now. Today is July 1. Canada Day. I have five more days until I am paid again, but in the interim I will still have to get a bit of groceries and some gas in the car. Some. Don't know how much; I might be able to afford to fill the tank, and I'll try to.
I woke up last night at 7PM (yes, proving that I am, in fact, a bum during the summer). I'll probably be up for a very, very long time. I have a lot of grading to do still, and I have to do some cleaning/laundry/vacuuming. It is unbearably hot in the house; I can run the AC all I want, but as I told Zedral a little while ago, all the AC does is stop me from sweating profusely. Aside from that it does not appear to have any true effect on the interior temperature of my house, and is little more than a waste of energy. After a certain point, it becomes nigh-impossible to keep it cool in here. That point is about the 95-degree mark outside, give or take a degree or two based on humidity. It was 102 yesterday, again. It's supposed to be over 100 every single day for the next week and a half. I can't afford to run the air hours a day every day with the only effect being that I'm only coated in sweat about half the time. There's no point.
I also need to mow the grass again. Despite the fact that it hasn't rained in a good, oh, ten or eleven days, the grass has grown about that many inches since I last mowed it about two weeks ago. I only know it was about two weeks ago because I was bored enough to write about it on my Facebook. I hate mowing the grass when it's really hot, so I'll probably do it around 9 or 10 this morning. That gives me the added bonus of -- if it gets really hot today -- the sun can bake it and kill it, and I won't have to mow it again for a while.
My neighbor apparently mowed his grass yesterday too, which makes mine look that much worse. I need to mow it. Ugh. Have to keep up appearances, of course.
I keep looking at the rest of the stack of papers I've been grading through, and I sigh. I know it's not the same amount of grading that I'd do during a normal semester, though. But that doesn't help things. I allow myself to become too slothlike in the summer because of the heat, because I can sleep whenever I want. The heat, of course, keeps me tired. Despite that I do have a rather busy week ahead of me, for a multitude of reasons.
In other news, there were some horrible storms that hit my home state of West Virginia on Friday night; I haven't heard many details of them, or where the worst of them hit, but I do know that the entire state is under a State of Emergency declaration and that 500,000 people in 27 counties (read: half of the state's population) are without power. Andrea is okay; I checked with her. My parents are okay as well; they don't have power and it may not be restored until Tuesday-ish, but they called and left me a message on my phone last night to let me know they were fine, but really bored due to lack of entertainment. My mother has lots of favorite TV shows she watches, so she's probably climbing the walls right about now. My dad is perfectly happy, however, to read a book. Maybe they went out to go see a movie or something...provided the movie theaters have power, that is. Regardless, they're okay, but I've not heard a whole lot from my other WV friends and family, who I generally only keep in contact with via Facebook or Twitter. Andrea says Morgantown is basically like a war zone, and I've heard from two other friends who live around my parents who say that power is spotty at best around the area, and damage is widespread. My parents, at least, have a generator they can use if necessary.
Of course, I heard about all of this stuff via Facebook and secondhand sources; I haven't seen any real news coverage of any of it out here. This is especially ironic as WVU just joined the Big 12 conference today, officially, and WVU is all over the news here. Hah. Go figure, hm?
Daisy's mother accepted my friend request on Facebook, which means that she is now privy to all of my possibly-embarrassing photos and/or previous status updates. If there's anything the woman ever wanted to know about me, oh yeah, she has access to it now. If that doesn't show how open and trusting I am of other people, I don't know what does. When I told Daisy she'd accepted my friend request, she smiled and found it endearing that I'd replied to her mother's message and had added her as a friend. I suppose I'm proactive that way, really. Her mother did not, however, reply to the message I sent back to her, nor do I really expect her to. I'm sure she's read it by this point, though.
So, that's about all that's going on. There is grading, a shower, some household chores, grass mowing, and sleep all in my future for the day. And as it's almost 4AM now, I should probably get to work on those things -- as many as I can do before I wear myself out, anyway.
It was a hard question for Daisy to answer, I think.
I will give some backstory; my previous post was written on Friday morning. I saved it here, but did not post it. I didn't know if I ever would. As the third Immediate Dismissals post made Daisy think about a lot of things I'd written there (read: she took slight umbrage with how open I'd been in certain sections, but it passed after we discussed it), I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what I could write. Far be it from me to censor myself, but sometimes I can be a little too...what's the term...open. Yeah. So I wrote it, saved it, and waited for the answer to that question. I did not mention the fact that I'd written said post until tonight.
The answer to the question was, as Daisy also is, lovely, precisely-worded, and multifaceted. It was after I received that answer, and after we talked about it a bit last night (though not for long) and tonight, that I finally told her I'd written the previous post in secret, but had not posted it.
"I want to read it," she said.
"But it's not up," I told her.
"Facebook it to me or email it to me so I can read it."
So I copy/pasted it into an email to her. I had to read it again myself, because -- as I had written it when my mind was full of thoughts and I was fatigued -- I couldn't remember all I'd said.
I watched her facial expressions over Skype while she read through it, slowly. Her face slowly went from a blank, interested stare into a smile, and then into a small giggle.
"What?" I asked.
"The section on the 'accurate reply,' where you said," and she began reading it aloud, "well, she's sort of my girlfriend, and she's sort of not, because it's complicated and we don't set any sort of definitions on what we are or why we are that indescribable construct."
"Heh, yeah," I said a little sheepishly.
She read through the rest of it, and told me when she was done.
"Why didn't you put it up?" she asked.
"Um...I..." I trailed off. I didn't know if I could give a real answer to that which would make sense. "I was sort of...afraid to?"
"Why?"
"Well, because I didn't know how...um...accurate my assessment of the situation was."
This is true. It's the major reason why I didn't put it up. I didn't want to be too forward with things. I didn't want to read into things that she didn't mean or that I didn't know was true, and after all, I am very cautious with Daisy. She'd had a few minor issues with the stuff I'd written in that third Immediate Dismissals post, and this new, secret post I'd written took that much further.
I also didn't want to put it up before I read her long-form answer to the what does this mean question, as that answer could have invalidated everything I'd written. It didn't, incidentally, but I still didn't post it. On some level I wanted her to read it before I put it up, actually.
"Why afraid?"
"I didn't want to upset you or write anything you'd take offense to."
...which is very accurate. Again, far be it from me to censor myself, but this is a delicate situation about a serious matter, and I do have a modicum of tact; I tend to adjust and tailor myself accordingly. I can do this without feeling that I'm censoring myself.
Truth be told, I edited the Hurt Feelings post about ten times before I was satisfied enough with it to put it up. I now have a lot more readers than before (Daisy's friends creep on my blog as well, apparently, from time to time, as they're protective of her), and after all, Daisy's mother apparently reads it too. I am not so much watching what I say as I am keeping the private details of our conversations and our interactions simply between us as much as possible.
Yes, I realize the irony in writing that right now. I do.
"So...do you like it?" I finally asked her.
She turned to me, giving me her serious look, and said in her serious tone, "Yes. I like it."
A sweet little shiver went down my spine.
"Do you want me to put it up?" I asked.
"Sure," she said.
So I did. She also agreed that it was fairly accurate. Especially the part about the at-arm's-length, tango description.
It is a great experiment, really. Not that it can be defined. Not that we're going to define it, at least not now. Stop defining, she told me the other night when my mannerisms seemed as if I were trying to get a title, a label. It's not that I am, because I'm not, really. Let it ride, I say. But what I did say in that post about wanting to answer in as few words as possible if asked is quite true. I'm weird that way. Pay it no mind, folks.
This may be the strangest love-related / emotion-related situation I've ever been in over the course of my entire life, and you know what? I am enjoying every minute of it. Everything's an adventure. It's exciting not knowing what will happen next.
He is so very thoughtful. The more I learn about him, the more I adore him, she wrote about me, quoting a conversation she had at work yesterday.
Note that she used the word adore before she knew I had used it in my secret post. Oh yeah. Our minds are on the same wavelength, that's for sure.
So it's July now. Today is July 1. Canada Day. I have five more days until I am paid again, but in the interim I will still have to get a bit of groceries and some gas in the car. Some. Don't know how much; I might be able to afford to fill the tank, and I'll try to.
I woke up last night at 7PM (yes, proving that I am, in fact, a bum during the summer). I'll probably be up for a very, very long time. I have a lot of grading to do still, and I have to do some cleaning/laundry/vacuuming. It is unbearably hot in the house; I can run the AC all I want, but as I told Zedral a little while ago, all the AC does is stop me from sweating profusely. Aside from that it does not appear to have any true effect on the interior temperature of my house, and is little more than a waste of energy. After a certain point, it becomes nigh-impossible to keep it cool in here. That point is about the 95-degree mark outside, give or take a degree or two based on humidity. It was 102 yesterday, again. It's supposed to be over 100 every single day for the next week and a half. I can't afford to run the air hours a day every day with the only effect being that I'm only coated in sweat about half the time. There's no point.
I also need to mow the grass again. Despite the fact that it hasn't rained in a good, oh, ten or eleven days, the grass has grown about that many inches since I last mowed it about two weeks ago. I only know it was about two weeks ago because I was bored enough to write about it on my Facebook. I hate mowing the grass when it's really hot, so I'll probably do it around 9 or 10 this morning. That gives me the added bonus of -- if it gets really hot today -- the sun can bake it and kill it, and I won't have to mow it again for a while.
My neighbor apparently mowed his grass yesterday too, which makes mine look that much worse. I need to mow it. Ugh. Have to keep up appearances, of course.
I keep looking at the rest of the stack of papers I've been grading through, and I sigh. I know it's not the same amount of grading that I'd do during a normal semester, though. But that doesn't help things. I allow myself to become too slothlike in the summer because of the heat, because I can sleep whenever I want. The heat, of course, keeps me tired. Despite that I do have a rather busy week ahead of me, for a multitude of reasons.
In other news, there were some horrible storms that hit my home state of West Virginia on Friday night; I haven't heard many details of them, or where the worst of them hit, but I do know that the entire state is under a State of Emergency declaration and that 500,000 people in 27 counties (read: half of the state's population) are without power. Andrea is okay; I checked with her. My parents are okay as well; they don't have power and it may not be restored until Tuesday-ish, but they called and left me a message on my phone last night to let me know they were fine, but really bored due to lack of entertainment. My mother has lots of favorite TV shows she watches, so she's probably climbing the walls right about now. My dad is perfectly happy, however, to read a book. Maybe they went out to go see a movie or something...provided the movie theaters have power, that is. Regardless, they're okay, but I've not heard a whole lot from my other WV friends and family, who I generally only keep in contact with via Facebook or Twitter. Andrea says Morgantown is basically like a war zone, and I've heard from two other friends who live around my parents who say that power is spotty at best around the area, and damage is widespread. My parents, at least, have a generator they can use if necessary.
Of course, I heard about all of this stuff via Facebook and secondhand sources; I haven't seen any real news coverage of any of it out here. This is especially ironic as WVU just joined the Big 12 conference today, officially, and WVU is all over the news here. Hah. Go figure, hm?
Daisy's mother accepted my friend request on Facebook, which means that she is now privy to all of my possibly-embarrassing photos and/or previous status updates. If there's anything the woman ever wanted to know about me, oh yeah, she has access to it now. If that doesn't show how open and trusting I am of other people, I don't know what does. When I told Daisy she'd accepted my friend request, she smiled and found it endearing that I'd replied to her mother's message and had added her as a friend. I suppose I'm proactive that way, really. Her mother did not, however, reply to the message I sent back to her, nor do I really expect her to. I'm sure she's read it by this point, though.
So, that's about all that's going on. There is grading, a shower, some household chores, grass mowing, and sleep all in my future for the day. And as it's almost 4AM now, I should probably get to work on those things -- as many as I can do before I wear myself out, anyway.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Slow and Steady
(This was written Friday, June 29, 2012, but saved until the next night to post. FYI.)
...
I love you, she said.
She loves everyone. But she means it a bit differently when she says it to me. It's a different tone of voice, a different inflection. That little difference, it speaks volumes.
Mine, she adds.
The words mine and yours have taken on different meanings than the dictionary definitions of them between me and Daisy over the course of the past several weeks. They're not so much declarations of ownership or of any sort of true possessiveness, but they signify something indescribable by most means -- they signify the feelings we both have, the urge to just reach out, grasp flesh, and to pull one another close -- two kindred spirits not yet in love, but are definitely in something. We remain each other's enigma, each other's research project; neither of us knows what we truly want. We're both flawed, indecisive creatures, and one day we may think we want something more only to change our minds and push each other away, citing all of the reasoning, all of the differences it couldn't or wouldn't work.
I love you too, I said.
I meant in much the way she meant it; not entirely romantically, but not entirely not. It is a cautious love. But I do mean it when I say it. I think my definition of the term has been continually evolving by the day ever since Daisy came into my life.
Yours, I added, and then: What does this mean?
It's probably the most fair question I've ever asked of Daisy. Four words. I wanted to know what we were. What we are. What any of these little declarations actually mean, if there was any way to know.
She pointed me to an edit she'd made in her profile. An edit that said her real-life relationship status was "it's complicated" because she was obsessed with a man who had been taking up six or seven hours of her day, every day. That man was, and is, me (of course). She hyperlinked some of her text in those few lines to my own profile.
It was her way of showing me off to the world, I think. Her way of telling other guys to kindly go away.
I was stunned into silence.
"Slow and steady," she told me. "But please."
I was stunned into silence because, as you know, Daisy and I had refused to set anything other than a friend premise. I offered, she accepted at first and then later declined, and we had smoothed things out and decided we'd be simply friends, but would leave the door open for something in the future if it was something we would possibly both be interested in. There's never going to be a time where Daisy and I aren't friends, where we're not in contact or in each other's lives in some capacity; I can already see that. And as much of a hold as the woman has on my mind, on my thoughts and mannerisms (I've already been working trademark-Daisy phrases and words, such as "Tell me more" and "alas" into casual conversation because she's rubbed off on me that much), I didn't think she'd ever...I don't know, want to walk through that door with me again.
I thought that even though we'd remain close, remain friends, that eventually we'd sort of tire of one another's company and slip apart -- little by little, piece by piece, as the weeks and months went on. We'd each go on dates, we'd each connect with other people, make more friends, live separate lives by being close friends but nothing more -- similar to the very close, sister-like bonds I have with people like Andrea, Zedral, and Brittany -- until that door would inevitably close at some point whether we realized it or not, and if we tried to open it again we would find that it could not be opened.
...Skype. Now? Please? I said.
It was all I could muster. I was speechless. I didn't know what else I could say. But I knew we had to discuss this, we had to figure out what we had just done, or possibly, what we hath wrought.
Slow and steady, she repeated. No labels. No plans for our future. No definitions. Slow and steady. See what happens. See where it goes.
Okay, I said.
I paused for a moment before adding, Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure we CAN do this?
She looked at me, looked into my eyes like she always does for a beat or two. It's like she can stare into my soul, even through the webcam. She faltered for a moment before replying, ...no.
I had to laugh softly. I already knew the answer to the question. I would've had the same answer for her, had she asked said question of me. No, we don't know whether we can do this. We don't know whether it's possible, whether we really want to, whether or not one or the other is going to wake up tomorrow morning and have a changed mind, a moment of clarity, a bolt of reason that strikes from on high. We're not defining things. We're not giving ourselves a label or a title, and in that we're not giving ourselves something to run away from, something tangible that we can grasp and declare that we are or are not. This is day by day, this is experimentation in its truest form, this is seeing if Daisy and I have something that could be defined, even if it's something that we've chosen not to.
I made the joke of whether or not we should change our relationship statuses on Facebook to "it's complicated" and not name each other, with the humorous implication that this would still fall under the heading of not defining anything. She currently has her own status set as in an "open relationship" with her best friend of nine years, which I think is really cute -- and, additionally, she said that she wasn't giving that up. Which I found even cuter.
No, I don't perceive this friend as a threat or anything like that; please. He's to Daisy what Andrea is and always has been to me: a best friend.
Daisy knows how much I want to define things, how much I want us both to say something along the lines of this is what we are, and this is what we are not. And it's not because I want to set something in stone -- unalterable, unchangeable -- because it's not. It's because the mentality of not knowing something will always drive me up the wall. If someone asks me what Daisy is to me, I want to be able to reply in as few words as possible, and I want to know that my reply is accurate. I don't want to have to say something along the lines of well, she's sort of my girlfriend, and she's sort of not, because it's complicated and we don't set any sort of definitions on what we are or why we are that indescribable construct.
I am suddenly having a strange sense of deja vu flooding back to me. No definitions. No explanations. No plans. Just what happens, happens. I'm not sure why.
Daisy is not looking for anyone else. She stopped that weeks ago, really, when we first began talking -- though she did not tell me (or, really, admit that to me) until yesterday, even though I already knew it. She brought up the concept of open relationships last night, in regards to us as individuals, and I can't say that over the course of these past several weeks, I haven't thought about it. I can't say I haven't sat down and given it serious, introspective thought on whether I could ever make it work, whether I've cut myself off and limited myself in eliminating it as an option for so many years. I, of course, have not been seeking anyone else either. Not actively. I make friends. I get to know people. But none of them have been particularly romantically interesting, not even April's friend who she introduced me to a few nights ago. April's friend is sweet and very personable, and she's a wonderful, kind person -- but there's no romantic spark there of any sort for me, really. There's just not, and I can't change that. She's sweet, but ultimately destined to always remain a friend.
Daisy loves me. More than that, I'm pretty sure Daisy adores me. It's the one thing I do know, the one thing I can define or put a label on.
My own definition of the word "love" is evolving. It's changing more and more by the day. It's no longer the stoic, simple dictionary definition of love that so many of us have known in different forms, at least not anymore. I've been hurt, burned, and spurned by love so many times that I'm not sure I really know how to recognize it anymore. It's almost a foreign concept or object, an artifact that an extraterrestrial would pick up and examine, turn over in their hands as they tried to figure out how or why it worked.
Daisy loves me, and I love her.
It's never that simple, though, is it?
And this is coming from the guy who has had as one of his many mantras the phrase love conquers all, mind you.
Daisy and I hold each other at arm's length -- it's like a dance, a tango of sorts; it's a you stay away from me, I don't want to hurt you, or conversely, a you stay away from me, I don't want to be hurt somehow BY you sort of situation that we're locked into. We don't know what we want. We're both flighty and indecisive, we're both questioning every little thing that the other says and does, as if we're examining each other under a microscope to look for cracks at the seams. We don't know if what we have -- whatever it is, indefinable as it may be, as evolving or de-evolving it is one day to the next -- is going to last. Neither of us wants to hurt or wound the other.
We just know that we love each other, but we're not in love. And we don't know if we ever will be, if we'll ever allow ourselves to fall victim to that circumstance. For each of us, at this point, it feels like a possible trap. And if we let ourselves get caught in that trap, one or both of us won't be able to escape it without unintentionally hurting the other.
That's why we don't define ourselves. That's why we won't, why we can't. I understand that. That's why we continue our tango.
As I was finishing up this post -- a post which I don't know when will ever see the light of day, I received an email from Daisy, which she sent to me from work this morning while beginning a ten-hour shift. She's writing me a letter to attempt to answer the question I asked last night.
I'm not sure what question she's referring to.
What does this mean?
Are you sure you want to do this?
Are you sure we CAN do this?
She doesn't know I'm still awake. I was supposed to have gone to sleep hours ago. But I couldn't go to sleep without writing this, without sorting out my thoughts, regardless of whether it ever gets uploaded.
I'm also afraid of finding out which one of those questions she's going to answer.
My friends, I am very afraid. I am afraid of a lot of things. I put on a brave face, of course. I shuffle through everything, through my chores, through teaching, through life, and I do it all alone. When it comes to love, I've never been afraid. I've always been very gung-ho, so to speak. With my ex who I was in a relationship with for over six years, I put my all into my jobs, working three different jobs for a year or so in order to have a large enough nest egg to move out here to the midwest on -- and I did. With Lady, I had been afraid up to that point to even try looking for someone to date, but when Lady came along I dove in with nary a second thought.
With Daisy? Arm's length. Always, from the beginning. I told myself I wouldn't get attached. I told myself I wouldn't get my hopes up, that she would probably be one of the many women I've had one or two short conversations with before disappearing from my life forever. I didn't know then that once she entered my life, I'd never want her to leave it. I didn't know that she would inspire me to look up vegetarian and vegan cooking and the lifestyle it entailed, I didn't know I would spend six or seven hours on Skype with her per day, talking about anything and everything, I didn't know that she would care and listen and want me around, and I certainly didn't know that we would...well, love each other.
That's why I'm afraid of what question she's going to answer. Love changes things.
...
I love you, she said.
She loves everyone. But she means it a bit differently when she says it to me. It's a different tone of voice, a different inflection. That little difference, it speaks volumes.
Mine, she adds.
The words mine and yours have taken on different meanings than the dictionary definitions of them between me and Daisy over the course of the past several weeks. They're not so much declarations of ownership or of any sort of true possessiveness, but they signify something indescribable by most means -- they signify the feelings we both have, the urge to just reach out, grasp flesh, and to pull one another close -- two kindred spirits not yet in love, but are definitely in something. We remain each other's enigma, each other's research project; neither of us knows what we truly want. We're both flawed, indecisive creatures, and one day we may think we want something more only to change our minds and push each other away, citing all of the reasoning, all of the differences it couldn't or wouldn't work.
I love you too, I said.
I meant in much the way she meant it; not entirely romantically, but not entirely not. It is a cautious love. But I do mean it when I say it. I think my definition of the term has been continually evolving by the day ever since Daisy came into my life.
Yours, I added, and then: What does this mean?
It's probably the most fair question I've ever asked of Daisy. Four words. I wanted to know what we were. What we are. What any of these little declarations actually mean, if there was any way to know.
She pointed me to an edit she'd made in her profile. An edit that said her real-life relationship status was "it's complicated" because she was obsessed with a man who had been taking up six or seven hours of her day, every day. That man was, and is, me (of course). She hyperlinked some of her text in those few lines to my own profile.
It was her way of showing me off to the world, I think. Her way of telling other guys to kindly go away.
I was stunned into silence.
"Slow and steady," she told me. "But please."
I was stunned into silence because, as you know, Daisy and I had refused to set anything other than a friend premise. I offered, she accepted at first and then later declined, and we had smoothed things out and decided we'd be simply friends, but would leave the door open for something in the future if it was something we would possibly both be interested in. There's never going to be a time where Daisy and I aren't friends, where we're not in contact or in each other's lives in some capacity; I can already see that. And as much of a hold as the woman has on my mind, on my thoughts and mannerisms (I've already been working trademark-Daisy phrases and words, such as "Tell me more" and "alas" into casual conversation because she's rubbed off on me that much), I didn't think she'd ever...I don't know, want to walk through that door with me again.
I thought that even though we'd remain close, remain friends, that eventually we'd sort of tire of one another's company and slip apart -- little by little, piece by piece, as the weeks and months went on. We'd each go on dates, we'd each connect with other people, make more friends, live separate lives by being close friends but nothing more -- similar to the very close, sister-like bonds I have with people like Andrea, Zedral, and Brittany -- until that door would inevitably close at some point whether we realized it or not, and if we tried to open it again we would find that it could not be opened.
...Skype. Now? Please? I said.
It was all I could muster. I was speechless. I didn't know what else I could say. But I knew we had to discuss this, we had to figure out what we had just done, or possibly, what we hath wrought.
Slow and steady, she repeated. No labels. No plans for our future. No definitions. Slow and steady. See what happens. See where it goes.
Okay, I said.
I paused for a moment before adding, Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure we CAN do this?
She looked at me, looked into my eyes like she always does for a beat or two. It's like she can stare into my soul, even through the webcam. She faltered for a moment before replying, ...no.
I had to laugh softly. I already knew the answer to the question. I would've had the same answer for her, had she asked said question of me. No, we don't know whether we can do this. We don't know whether it's possible, whether we really want to, whether or not one or the other is going to wake up tomorrow morning and have a changed mind, a moment of clarity, a bolt of reason that strikes from on high. We're not defining things. We're not giving ourselves a label or a title, and in that we're not giving ourselves something to run away from, something tangible that we can grasp and declare that we are or are not. This is day by day, this is experimentation in its truest form, this is seeing if Daisy and I have something that could be defined, even if it's something that we've chosen not to.
I made the joke of whether or not we should change our relationship statuses on Facebook to "it's complicated" and not name each other, with the humorous implication that this would still fall under the heading of not defining anything. She currently has her own status set as in an "open relationship" with her best friend of nine years, which I think is really cute -- and, additionally, she said that she wasn't giving that up. Which I found even cuter.
No, I don't perceive this friend as a threat or anything like that; please. He's to Daisy what Andrea is and always has been to me: a best friend.
Daisy knows how much I want to define things, how much I want us both to say something along the lines of this is what we are, and this is what we are not. And it's not because I want to set something in stone -- unalterable, unchangeable -- because it's not. It's because the mentality of not knowing something will always drive me up the wall. If someone asks me what Daisy is to me, I want to be able to reply in as few words as possible, and I want to know that my reply is accurate. I don't want to have to say something along the lines of well, she's sort of my girlfriend, and she's sort of not, because it's complicated and we don't set any sort of definitions on what we are or why we are that indescribable construct.
I am suddenly having a strange sense of deja vu flooding back to me. No definitions. No explanations. No plans. Just what happens, happens. I'm not sure why.
Daisy is not looking for anyone else. She stopped that weeks ago, really, when we first began talking -- though she did not tell me (or, really, admit that to me) until yesterday, even though I already knew it. She brought up the concept of open relationships last night, in regards to us as individuals, and I can't say that over the course of these past several weeks, I haven't thought about it. I can't say I haven't sat down and given it serious, introspective thought on whether I could ever make it work, whether I've cut myself off and limited myself in eliminating it as an option for so many years. I, of course, have not been seeking anyone else either. Not actively. I make friends. I get to know people. But none of them have been particularly romantically interesting, not even April's friend who she introduced me to a few nights ago. April's friend is sweet and very personable, and she's a wonderful, kind person -- but there's no romantic spark there of any sort for me, really. There's just not, and I can't change that. She's sweet, but ultimately destined to always remain a friend.
Daisy loves me. More than that, I'm pretty sure Daisy adores me. It's the one thing I do know, the one thing I can define or put a label on.
My own definition of the word "love" is evolving. It's changing more and more by the day. It's no longer the stoic, simple dictionary definition of love that so many of us have known in different forms, at least not anymore. I've been hurt, burned, and spurned by love so many times that I'm not sure I really know how to recognize it anymore. It's almost a foreign concept or object, an artifact that an extraterrestrial would pick up and examine, turn over in their hands as they tried to figure out how or why it worked.
Daisy loves me, and I love her.
It's never that simple, though, is it?
And this is coming from the guy who has had as one of his many mantras the phrase love conquers all, mind you.
Daisy and I hold each other at arm's length -- it's like a dance, a tango of sorts; it's a you stay away from me, I don't want to hurt you, or conversely, a you stay away from me, I don't want to be hurt somehow BY you sort of situation that we're locked into. We don't know what we want. We're both flighty and indecisive, we're both questioning every little thing that the other says and does, as if we're examining each other under a microscope to look for cracks at the seams. We don't know if what we have -- whatever it is, indefinable as it may be, as evolving or de-evolving it is one day to the next -- is going to last. Neither of us wants to hurt or wound the other.
We just know that we love each other, but we're not in love. And we don't know if we ever will be, if we'll ever allow ourselves to fall victim to that circumstance. For each of us, at this point, it feels like a possible trap. And if we let ourselves get caught in that trap, one or both of us won't be able to escape it without unintentionally hurting the other.
That's why we don't define ourselves. That's why we won't, why we can't. I understand that. That's why we continue our tango.
As I was finishing up this post -- a post which I don't know when will ever see the light of day, I received an email from Daisy, which she sent to me from work this morning while beginning a ten-hour shift. She's writing me a letter to attempt to answer the question I asked last night.
I'm not sure what question she's referring to.
What does this mean?
Are you sure you want to do this?
Are you sure we CAN do this?
She doesn't know I'm still awake. I was supposed to have gone to sleep hours ago. But I couldn't go to sleep without writing this, without sorting out my thoughts, regardless of whether it ever gets uploaded.
I'm also afraid of finding out which one of those questions she's going to answer.
My friends, I am very afraid. I am afraid of a lot of things. I put on a brave face, of course. I shuffle through everything, through my chores, through teaching, through life, and I do it all alone. When it comes to love, I've never been afraid. I've always been very gung-ho, so to speak. With my ex who I was in a relationship with for over six years, I put my all into my jobs, working three different jobs for a year or so in order to have a large enough nest egg to move out here to the midwest on -- and I did. With Lady, I had been afraid up to that point to even try looking for someone to date, but when Lady came along I dove in with nary a second thought.
With Daisy? Arm's length. Always, from the beginning. I told myself I wouldn't get attached. I told myself I wouldn't get my hopes up, that she would probably be one of the many women I've had one or two short conversations with before disappearing from my life forever. I didn't know then that once she entered my life, I'd never want her to leave it. I didn't know that she would inspire me to look up vegetarian and vegan cooking and the lifestyle it entailed, I didn't know I would spend six or seven hours on Skype with her per day, talking about anything and everything, I didn't know that she would care and listen and want me around, and I certainly didn't know that we would...well, love each other.
That's why I'm afraid of what question she's going to answer. Love changes things.
Hurt Feelings
Backstory: my friend April introduced me to one of her friends a few nights ago, a girl she attends school with, in Portland. Oregon. Yeah. April introduced us because she thought the two of us would make a good match, would make a good couple.
Tonight, when said friend messaged me and we started talking, I basically told her that I just wanted us to remain friends and nothing else, especially right now. I was wordier than that, of course, and tried to explain things as delicately as possible, including mentioning Daisy (though not naming her, of course), but also explaining that I don't start anything -- relationships, friendships, or otherwise -- on set pretenses. Anymore, anyway. I've learned that doing so sets expectations one way or the other, and that's a bad thing. I'll be happy to be her friend, but I am nothing else. I can't be. I have my reasons. I'm too guarded, and even though she's a sweet girl, I just...I am so not going to lead on anyone and make them think that I am going to start something romantic when I'm not.
It's a difficult situation. I don't want to disappoint April, who is a very close, important friend of mine (April has also been nice enough to send me a $50 Walmart gift card, an eCard, so that I can get some essentials over the next week or two, which I am incredibly grateful for), but I also don't want to hurt her friend's feelings either or set up a pretense in her mind that I can't and won't follow through on. Said friend was attracted to me, quite obviously, and I didn't want to inadvertently hurt her feelings. I haaaaaate hurting people's feelings. Of course, in telling her that I just wanted us to be friends, I did. She had a very different view of what our conversations had entailed than I did, going as far to say that she hoped I wouldn't "friendzone" her. Which made it clear that she had a clear goal in mind with what our conversations would turn into, and...well, I'm sorry, that wasn't really my intention. She's a sweet girl, yes, but I don't want to set any sort of premise like that. I don't develop feelings for someone without knowing them. I just don't. I can't. I am not that person. I do not do, as Daisy calls it, "instalove," despite her thoughts on whether she thinks I do or not.
I apologized to said girl for possibly making her think we were doing anything other than talking to each other on a friend level, getting to know each other, and told her that she could think I was a prick if she wanted to (she doesn't), but I couldn't, and won't, do more. I make friends, I don't make lovers. It did hurt her feelings, she said, but only a little, and that she'd get over it. I told her I'd be happy to be her friend -- I value my friends greatly -- if she wanted me to be, anyway. She dejectedly said she'd talk to me tomorrow. Sigh. Hurt feelings.
It shouldn't bother me that much, but it does. I don't like upsetting anyone. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, ever, inadvertently or otherwise. I am friendly and flirty with everyone, even close friends I've known for years. I should curb that behavior. Apparently it sends mixed messages, messages that I don't exactly intend.
Some of you are probably saying what is wrong with you, Brandon?
I'm too guarded, that's what.
Then why do you have profiles on two different dating websites?
I'm beginning to ask myself that more every day, actually. I'll more than likely delete them, or at the very least completely deactivate them, within the next week or so at the most. I have little use for them. They've become a morbid curiosity more than anything else, really. It's not like anyone's ever really cared or bothered to look -- the only one who has, really, has been Daisy. Ironically, Daisy is the one friend I've made in the past year or two who I've never had to be guarded with, and have never felt the need to be. I innately trust her, and have since the beginning.
Lots of interpersonal interaction leaves me weary and stressed, I suppose. I never know the impression I'm going to give to new people. Sometimes they may take things wrong, or read into things too much, or I may inadvertently end up hurting them.
I wonder sometimes whether I truly am a good person, or whether I just think I am.
Regardless, I try to be.
I finally replied to the Facebook message from Daisy's mother this morning, and friend-requested her.
I'm an open person, and I didn't want her to think I was ignoring her or trying to be mysterious or closed off.
"Writers are often open people," Daisy told me a few days ago. With me, at least, she's right. I swear that girl can read my mind. As I've said before, it's like she can finish my thoughts for me most of the time. I don't know if that makes me especially transparent, if it makes her extremely perceptive, both, or neither.
I have been extremely nervous to message Daisy's mother back, really. I generally give bad first impressions to people's parents just because I'm so socially awkward. Yeah, in case you didn't realize it before, I don't get out much, and meet or talk to the parents of friends even less frequently. I could count on one hand the number of friends' parents I've ever met over the course of the past, say, fifteen years or so. Just doesn't happen very often.
So. Onward.
In other "hurt feelings" news, I have now had my first mathematically-based / absence-based failure of the summer semester in my class, a student who has missed half of the class days and can no longer pass. I had to give him the bad news yesterday morning, and I BCC'ed the email I sent him to my boss, in case he tried to start any problems, but it's a pretty clear-cut scenario. My boss replied and told me that I'd done the right thing and that I was correct, so if he had any more problems to direct them to her. I also had three missed calls from the department office yesterday afternoon when I woke up (but no voicemails) so I'm guessing it was something having to do with that kid. Otherwise they would've left a voicemail or would've emailed me. Sorry, man, I wanted to tell him, but if you want to pass the class, you actually have to attend it and do the work for it. That's sort of how college works.
I have to abide by the policies of the English department; there's not really any way I can get around them, as I am said department's employee and am paid to do what they tell me to do.
Tonight, because we were talking about pizzas, my friend Zedral surprised me by ordering me a pizza for dinner, out of the blue. She didn't have to, of course, but she wanted to surprise me and do something sweet. Zedral has offered to do this many times (I've always declined, mainly because I don't like feeling like a charity case in any sense of the term), but tonight she did so without asking permission, and wanted to help me out because she knows I'm basically broke until I get paid again in another week. As I've said before, I am very, very lucky to have the friends I do. I love them all, and I am stunned at times by their generosity.
The pizza came on top of the $50 Walmart gift eCard that April sent me earlier today, as well.
"You strike me as the kind of guy that one day will have the opportunity to help someone out, and you will, and I'll feel it no matter where I am," April told me when I thanked her multiple times, tears in my eyes (though she couldn't see them) because of her generosity.
I so must have done something really good in a past life to be able to deserve such great friends who go out of their way to help me out, even when I've not asked them to. Either that or the fates are treating me kindly for the time being.
Of course, I also sent April a text a while ago that said I was pretty sure I'd inadvertently hurt her friend's feelings, and that I felt like a dick because of it.
Sigh.
I absolutely need to do something soon for both Zedral and April to show them my thanks for their generosity, even though they'd both tell me not to, I'm sure. I still want to.
I actually think there are two more chapters of April's book I need to edit for her soon, as well. Hm. I'll have to check.
The rest of this weekend will consist of...well...I'm not exactly sure. Lots of grading, I do know that -- I have a stack of student papers and a stack of student journals to grade through before Tuesday night. While it shouldn't take an incredibly long time, it'll still be time-consuming. As I'll have to spend most of Tuesday on campus (no, sadly, I can't avoid it this week, despite how hot it may get -- I have to print stuff), I can't grade then, so it'll have to be done this weekend.
It's supposed to be 103 today. Once more I will be trying to sleep through most of it. I think that's a good plan, a solid plan.
Tonight, when said friend messaged me and we started talking, I basically told her that I just wanted us to remain friends and nothing else, especially right now. I was wordier than that, of course, and tried to explain things as delicately as possible, including mentioning Daisy (though not naming her, of course), but also explaining that I don't start anything -- relationships, friendships, or otherwise -- on set pretenses. Anymore, anyway. I've learned that doing so sets expectations one way or the other, and that's a bad thing. I'll be happy to be her friend, but I am nothing else. I can't be. I have my reasons. I'm too guarded, and even though she's a sweet girl, I just...I am so not going to lead on anyone and make them think that I am going to start something romantic when I'm not.
It's a difficult situation. I don't want to disappoint April, who is a very close, important friend of mine (April has also been nice enough to send me a $50 Walmart gift card, an eCard, so that I can get some essentials over the next week or two, which I am incredibly grateful for), but I also don't want to hurt her friend's feelings either or set up a pretense in her mind that I can't and won't follow through on. Said friend was attracted to me, quite obviously, and I didn't want to inadvertently hurt her feelings. I haaaaaate hurting people's feelings. Of course, in telling her that I just wanted us to be friends, I did. She had a very different view of what our conversations had entailed than I did, going as far to say that she hoped I wouldn't "friendzone" her. Which made it clear that she had a clear goal in mind with what our conversations would turn into, and...well, I'm sorry, that wasn't really my intention. She's a sweet girl, yes, but I don't want to set any sort of premise like that. I don't develop feelings for someone without knowing them. I just don't. I can't. I am not that person. I do not do, as Daisy calls it, "instalove," despite her thoughts on whether she thinks I do or not.
I apologized to said girl for possibly making her think we were doing anything other than talking to each other on a friend level, getting to know each other, and told her that she could think I was a prick if she wanted to (she doesn't), but I couldn't, and won't, do more. I make friends, I don't make lovers. It did hurt her feelings, she said, but only a little, and that she'd get over it. I told her I'd be happy to be her friend -- I value my friends greatly -- if she wanted me to be, anyway. She dejectedly said she'd talk to me tomorrow. Sigh. Hurt feelings.
It shouldn't bother me that much, but it does. I don't like upsetting anyone. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, ever, inadvertently or otherwise. I am friendly and flirty with everyone, even close friends I've known for years. I should curb that behavior. Apparently it sends mixed messages, messages that I don't exactly intend.
Some of you are probably saying what is wrong with you, Brandon?
I'm too guarded, that's what.
Then why do you have profiles on two different dating websites?
I'm beginning to ask myself that more every day, actually. I'll more than likely delete them, or at the very least completely deactivate them, within the next week or so at the most. I have little use for them. They've become a morbid curiosity more than anything else, really. It's not like anyone's ever really cared or bothered to look -- the only one who has, really, has been Daisy. Ironically, Daisy is the one friend I've made in the past year or two who I've never had to be guarded with, and have never felt the need to be. I innately trust her, and have since the beginning.
Lots of interpersonal interaction leaves me weary and stressed, I suppose. I never know the impression I'm going to give to new people. Sometimes they may take things wrong, or read into things too much, or I may inadvertently end up hurting them.
I wonder sometimes whether I truly am a good person, or whether I just think I am.
Regardless, I try to be.
I finally replied to the Facebook message from Daisy's mother this morning, and friend-requested her.
I'm an open person, and I didn't want her to think I was ignoring her or trying to be mysterious or closed off.
"Writers are often open people," Daisy told me a few days ago. With me, at least, she's right. I swear that girl can read my mind. As I've said before, it's like she can finish my thoughts for me most of the time. I don't know if that makes me especially transparent, if it makes her extremely perceptive, both, or neither.
I have been extremely nervous to message Daisy's mother back, really. I generally give bad first impressions to people's parents just because I'm so socially awkward. Yeah, in case you didn't realize it before, I don't get out much, and meet or talk to the parents of friends even less frequently. I could count on one hand the number of friends' parents I've ever met over the course of the past, say, fifteen years or so. Just doesn't happen very often.
So. Onward.
In other "hurt feelings" news, I have now had my first mathematically-based / absence-based failure of the summer semester in my class, a student who has missed half of the class days and can no longer pass. I had to give him the bad news yesterday morning, and I BCC'ed the email I sent him to my boss, in case he tried to start any problems, but it's a pretty clear-cut scenario. My boss replied and told me that I'd done the right thing and that I was correct, so if he had any more problems to direct them to her. I also had three missed calls from the department office yesterday afternoon when I woke up (but no voicemails) so I'm guessing it was something having to do with that kid. Otherwise they would've left a voicemail or would've emailed me. Sorry, man, I wanted to tell him, but if you want to pass the class, you actually have to attend it and do the work for it. That's sort of how college works.
I have to abide by the policies of the English department; there's not really any way I can get around them, as I am said department's employee and am paid to do what they tell me to do.
Tonight, because we were talking about pizzas, my friend Zedral surprised me by ordering me a pizza for dinner, out of the blue. She didn't have to, of course, but she wanted to surprise me and do something sweet. Zedral has offered to do this many times (I've always declined, mainly because I don't like feeling like a charity case in any sense of the term), but tonight she did so without asking permission, and wanted to help me out because she knows I'm basically broke until I get paid again in another week. As I've said before, I am very, very lucky to have the friends I do. I love them all, and I am stunned at times by their generosity.
The pizza came on top of the $50 Walmart gift eCard that April sent me earlier today, as well.
"You strike me as the kind of guy that one day will have the opportunity to help someone out, and you will, and I'll feel it no matter where I am," April told me when I thanked her multiple times, tears in my eyes (though she couldn't see them) because of her generosity.
I so must have done something really good in a past life to be able to deserve such great friends who go out of their way to help me out, even when I've not asked them to. Either that or the fates are treating me kindly for the time being.
Of course, I also sent April a text a while ago that said I was pretty sure I'd inadvertently hurt her friend's feelings, and that I felt like a dick because of it.
Sigh.
I absolutely need to do something soon for both Zedral and April to show them my thanks for their generosity, even though they'd both tell me not to, I'm sure. I still want to.
I actually think there are two more chapters of April's book I need to edit for her soon, as well. Hm. I'll have to check.
The rest of this weekend will consist of...well...I'm not exactly sure. Lots of grading, I do know that -- I have a stack of student papers and a stack of student journals to grade through before Tuesday night. While it shouldn't take an incredibly long time, it'll still be time-consuming. As I'll have to spend most of Tuesday on campus (no, sadly, I can't avoid it this week, despite how hot it may get -- I have to print stuff), I can't grade then, so it'll have to be done this weekend.
It's supposed to be 103 today. Once more I will be trying to sleep through most of it. I think that's a good plan, a solid plan.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Immediate Dismissals, Part III: The Aftermath
As I predicted, I did get a fair amount of "heat" over the two previous Immediate Dismissals posts.
One of my acquaintances told me yesterday that it seemed like I myself was a personified red flag if I was willing to dismiss someone over tendencies and certain attributes when said person could be "my soulmate."
Fair enough, I suppose. I responded -- diplomatically, of course -- that I do and am willing to give anyone and everyone a chance, and that most of what I've written in those two previous posts is satire. Jaded, bitter satire, but satire nonetheless.
I don't like to judge people. I really don't. I know that statement may sound laughable and slightly hypocritical after reading those previous posts, but it's true. I'm not judging people's character or moral standings, of course, but rather if I think I'd be in any way compatible with them romantically. Sometimes such "snap decisions" are important in that regard. First impressions don't mean a whole lot to me most of the time -- everyone's prone to a bad day or a momentary lapse of reason. However, I can also tell most of the time on someone's demeanor alone, on the way a person carries himself or herself, or portrays himself or herself around others whether or not I want to associate with said person in the future, or ever. Call me judgmental or hypocritical if you wish, but I am very cautious about who I let into my life -- and those folks I don't want in it, well, aren't. Therefore, my immediate dismissals aren't so much of a reflection on the people I was referring to in those posts, but a reflection back on myself as a person. Because, believe me, I have my many flaws. Many, many flaws.
Those who see me as being a judgmental prick, of course, will continue to see me as one, and I can't change that. Oh well. As I said, lighten up, people. As I wrote before, I'm trying to shine a little light on a shitty situation by cracking jokes about it. I'm not actively trying to offend anyone, but I'm also not going to apologize for offending you if you were offended by my snap judgments of various people's characteristics. And I'm certainly not going to censor myself or try to please everyone.
Besides. I'm not even sure I believe in "my soulmate" anymore.
Some of you will probably be shocked to hear that. Some of you may find that soul-crushingly depressing. But it's true, really. I can't become so preoccupied with finding my "better half" or the "other side of my coin" or any of that other bullshit the greeting card companies will throw at you on anniversary cards purchased from gas stations at six in the morning on the day in question. I have my life to live, I have things to do with that life and places to go in it. Whether I'll ever get to those things or places remains to be seen, obviously, but I'm also sick of hearing the "there's one special person out there waiting for you" trope over and over again.
I did receive some positive responses to my Immediate Dismissals; my friends April and Kristine devoted a good ten minutes or so of the latest episode of their podcast to it, in which I was once more named and this very blog got a nice little plug. I adore April and Kristine; they are two of the sweetest ladies on the planet. April has been a close friend of mine for almost ten years now (I'm thinking seven or eight, bare minimum, as I've followed her through three different podcasts/radio shows now) and she has always been one of those friends who -- when I've needed help with anything -- will always immediately do whatever she can, whether I say anything or not. When my ex of over six years broke up with me last summer, April sent me a block of Ginsu knives for my kitchen, with a note attached saying something along the lines of "here's hoping they don't find where you've hidden the bodies." I can't remember the exact wording of it, but it was so cryptic that she was worried the Amazon people would send the cops to my house. In thanks for being such a good friend over the years, I've sent her several tie-dye shirts (Kristine has at least one of them now as well) and various other care packages. About two months ago I even baked cookies for April, April's husband, and Kristine for all of them to eat on the show. I value my friends. I can't tell you how much I value them. My friends, what few of them I have and hold dear, mean the world to me.
My friend Adam also appreciated the fact that I used his additions to my list as well, of course. Even he was shocked, though, at #7 (mentioning dead children on one's dating profile). It takes a lot to shock Adam, too. Adam is generally the one who shocks other people. In fact, I'm pretty sure my mother is still afraid of the man, even though he tends to look/be a lot more, ahem, respectable now than he did say, ten years ago. Adam is a great guy, a solid, hardworking guy who has been just as burned by love and bad luck as I have been throughout my life, if not much more so. He's also dependable and loyal to his dying breath, and I have no doubt that if I ever needed someone to back me up in a fight, he'd be there with a chain to swing and a board with a rusty nail through it in hand.
Amongst those who took moderate offense to the posts was Daisy. I say moderate offense because she does understand that I'm not "a mean person," nor was I completely dead serious with those immediate dismissals, and said that a few of them, at least, describe her -- going as far as to proclaim herself (in a sarcastic fashion) as "a princess," and getting her mother to back her up and verify this via Skype, something I found both hilarious and incredibly endearing. Okay, maybe I'll let the princess thing slide. But just this once.
Daisy's mother has been reading through my blog. I don't mind this at all, really, as my own parents read it (hi, Mom!); truthfully, I find it fascinating. Daisy and her mother are close, so it's not like it's a secret to her that Daisy and I are interested in one another (I'll get to that in a bit). What's fascinating about it is that her mother has read much more of this blog than even Daisy herself has as of yet.
Truthfully, it is supremely endearing and absolutely flattering that Daisy's mother is reading my blog. I think it's one of the sweetest things in the world. It shows that she cares about her daughter and that she wants to make sure that the guys her daughter associates with are upstanding individuals. Most mothers wouldn't do that. I want to give that woman a hug. It says so much about her as a person.
Daisy's mother even sent me a message on Facebook a few days ago about a particular style of clothes-dyeing she does, since she knows how much I enjoy my tie-dyes. It was very sweet, and it is a message that I have still yet to reply to, as I am A) nervous to talk to her because she is, after all, Daisy's mother, and B) because nobody's mother has ever sent me a message via Facebook before, especially not one so nice and sweet. I will, of course, reply to it soon.
As for me and Daisy herself? Well...
Truthfully, it's a bit hard to explain. I'm going to try anyhow.
Daisy and I are close. Very close. We spent a total of six hours yesterday on Skype together, talking/flirting/what-have-you, and probably about the same on Tuesday despite the fact that I taught Tuesday night and talked to other friends on both days, as well. Daisy and I have the sort of friendship already where we can look into each other's eyes via the Skype camera and know exactly what the other is thinking; words aren't always (or even frequently) necessary. Because of this she and I have a sort of connection that I'm not sure can really be defined. Yes, we are greatly attracted to each other, but yes, we are just friends. Yes, we are still over two hundred miles apart, but yes, each of us will get a little (or a lot) jealous when the other talks to or flirts with someone new via OkCupid or anywhere else.
We each test the other a bit in this regard, whether intentionally or otherwise; for example, April introduced me to one of her friends she goes to school with, and said friend and I talked a lot, getting to know each other. Said friend is very nice and sweet, but is also 1,400 miles away. I love getting to know new people, though, and April's friend is basically like the female version of myself, so we got along pretty well. Something may come of it, nothing may come of it -- who knows, since she lives 1,400 miles away -- but this girl is really nice, and we're getting to know each other on a friend level and have barely gotten past the state of introductions, brief histories of our pasts, educations, jobs, etc and the like. Still, because I was talking to someone new, and this someone was female, Daisy's proverbial claws came out. She was jealous. Like, upset-jealous; pouty, needy upset-jealous.
Which, I won't lie, is...ahem...hot.
Anyway.
Mind you, Daisy is not my girlfriend. Neither is this new friend I've made through April, who I'm just now getting to know a little better. One or the other may eventually become something more on a more-than-friends level, but right now? No. I talk to people, Daisy herself talks to people, we both have active profiles on OkCupid, and we both know that we're both going to socialize. I like making friends. I like finding people I have a lot in common with. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am a fairly social person, and if I can make a new friend -- whether I make said friend under the pretenses of simple friendship or the possibility of something more -- it's a chance I'm going to take, and I know it's a chance Daisy would take as well.
Daisy explains her jealousy by saying that yes, while we are friends, it's not like the door is closed to something more at some point, and for me to so casually flit around talking to new people like she doesn't matter is, on some level, a little disheartening, despite the fact that she does it too. Daisy is a strange one, yes. But Daisy also has an indescribable pull on me. I know that door isn't closed. It won't be, and I don't want it to be, at all. And I'll never act like she doesn't matter to me, regardless of who I talk to or befriend, because she does. She matters a lot. Probably more than I'm willing to admit fully in such a public forum or so soon, but Daisy is special to me, indescribably so. So indescribably that I'm really not sure what to label the friendship we have, because it's not just friends, despite the fact that's what we say it is, but it's not anything truly more than that either. I'm not sure if there's a sort of middle ground, a purgatory or limbo of sorts.
What's that old Mitch Hedberg line? "I don't have a girlfriend, but I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that."
Maybe it's something like that. I don't know.
I do know that Daisy's possessiveness and jealousy is really sweet, and that it stems from that knowledge we both have which tells us that the door to something more between us is not closed, and won't be -- probably not ever -- but setting a defined premise one way or the other cannot and will not happen at this time or possibly even in the foreseeable future.
What are my thoughts on this?
Well, let's just say that I haven't stopped researching vegetarian and vegan cooking, nor have I stopped researching the lifestyle -- but I've also made a good friend in the girl April introduced me to, and I do like making new friends and talking to new people, getting to know people on an interpersonal level, especially people as fascinating as this girl is. And, as I mentioned before, though we may not use them for much, Daisy and I both have active profiles on OkCupid. I have one on Plenty of Fish, too, as you know, and I think she does as well.
I haven't received any new messages from anyone on either site, in case you were wondering. Even the conversations I've had with women through OkCupid in recent weeks have fizzled and died out, all except for one woman -- you guessed it, Daisy. I don't know what that means. Nobody else I've talked to via that site has held my attention or captivated me like her. And I'm not sure, again, what that means, or if the fates are trying to tell me something.
Hey, Brandon, Fates here. How you doin'? This "Daisy" girl you write about? Yeah, she's something. Keep her around. Do whatever it takes. She'll be an important part of your life, trust me. Others may come and go. Relationships and friendships with other people may begin and end for each of you over time, but she'll always be there. Trust us, we're not usually wrong. You need her around. We like her. She appeals to your emotional, spiritual side, the side of you that makes you want to throw all your "rules" or "requirements" completely out the proverbial window just to be able to say you know her. She's an old soul. She's important, Brandon. Don't forget this. Listen to us.
That's sort of where I am right now, really. Open to all things on all fronts, but maybe hoping for one or two specific things to happen. What those things are, of course, I'm not even sure of completely myself. Time and patience, Brandon. Time and patience.
In other news, it is supposed to be 106-108 degrees here today. I have not yet gone to bed; I plan to sleep through the oppressive heat with an industrial-strength fan on me at all times, blowing me at its highest setting.
That sounds slightly dirty, doesn't it?
I have paid the rent and requested an appointment for the Westar Energy people (read: the electric company) to install the new WattSaver thermostat at some point in the near future. I don't know when that will be, but I can tell you that I do not like the heat, and I have $67.93 in my bank account until I am paid again a week from tomorrow. At least the WattSaver is free, and it's free installation. This is good, because I'm sure I'll be out of food, coffee, and smokes again before next Friday, and my big black landboat will need more gas before class on Tuesday night, even if I can only afford to put $10 or $15 in her to push me through those last few days before I can fill the tank.
So, my friends, after this incredibly long, intricate blog post, that's what's goin' on. I'll now retreat to my bed, where I will sleep away the heat and wake up sometime this evening. Mmm, bed. King-size bed. Where it's cool and comfortable, even if I am sleeping in it alone for the time being.
One of my acquaintances told me yesterday that it seemed like I myself was a personified red flag if I was willing to dismiss someone over tendencies and certain attributes when said person could be "my soulmate."
Fair enough, I suppose. I responded -- diplomatically, of course -- that I do and am willing to give anyone and everyone a chance, and that most of what I've written in those two previous posts is satire. Jaded, bitter satire, but satire nonetheless.
I don't like to judge people. I really don't. I know that statement may sound laughable and slightly hypocritical after reading those previous posts, but it's true. I'm not judging people's character or moral standings, of course, but rather if I think I'd be in any way compatible with them romantically. Sometimes such "snap decisions" are important in that regard. First impressions don't mean a whole lot to me most of the time -- everyone's prone to a bad day or a momentary lapse of reason. However, I can also tell most of the time on someone's demeanor alone, on the way a person carries himself or herself, or portrays himself or herself around others whether or not I want to associate with said person in the future, or ever. Call me judgmental or hypocritical if you wish, but I am very cautious about who I let into my life -- and those folks I don't want in it, well, aren't. Therefore, my immediate dismissals aren't so much of a reflection on the people I was referring to in those posts, but a reflection back on myself as a person. Because, believe me, I have my many flaws. Many, many flaws.
Those who see me as being a judgmental prick, of course, will continue to see me as one, and I can't change that. Oh well. As I said, lighten up, people. As I wrote before, I'm trying to shine a little light on a shitty situation by cracking jokes about it. I'm not actively trying to offend anyone, but I'm also not going to apologize for offending you if you were offended by my snap judgments of various people's characteristics. And I'm certainly not going to censor myself or try to please everyone.
Besides. I'm not even sure I believe in "my soulmate" anymore.
Some of you will probably be shocked to hear that. Some of you may find that soul-crushingly depressing. But it's true, really. I can't become so preoccupied with finding my "better half" or the "other side of my coin" or any of that other bullshit the greeting card companies will throw at you on anniversary cards purchased from gas stations at six in the morning on the day in question. I have my life to live, I have things to do with that life and places to go in it. Whether I'll ever get to those things or places remains to be seen, obviously, but I'm also sick of hearing the "there's one special person out there waiting for you" trope over and over again.
I did receive some positive responses to my Immediate Dismissals; my friends April and Kristine devoted a good ten minutes or so of the latest episode of their podcast to it, in which I was once more named and this very blog got a nice little plug. I adore April and Kristine; they are two of the sweetest ladies on the planet. April has been a close friend of mine for almost ten years now (I'm thinking seven or eight, bare minimum, as I've followed her through three different podcasts/radio shows now) and she has always been one of those friends who -- when I've needed help with anything -- will always immediately do whatever she can, whether I say anything or not. When my ex of over six years broke up with me last summer, April sent me a block of Ginsu knives for my kitchen, with a note attached saying something along the lines of "here's hoping they don't find where you've hidden the bodies." I can't remember the exact wording of it, but it was so cryptic that she was worried the Amazon people would send the cops to my house. In thanks for being such a good friend over the years, I've sent her several tie-dye shirts (Kristine has at least one of them now as well) and various other care packages. About two months ago I even baked cookies for April, April's husband, and Kristine for all of them to eat on the show. I value my friends. I can't tell you how much I value them. My friends, what few of them I have and hold dear, mean the world to me.
My friend Adam also appreciated the fact that I used his additions to my list as well, of course. Even he was shocked, though, at #7 (mentioning dead children on one's dating profile). It takes a lot to shock Adam, too. Adam is generally the one who shocks other people. In fact, I'm pretty sure my mother is still afraid of the man, even though he tends to look/be a lot more, ahem, respectable now than he did say, ten years ago. Adam is a great guy, a solid, hardworking guy who has been just as burned by love and bad luck as I have been throughout my life, if not much more so. He's also dependable and loyal to his dying breath, and I have no doubt that if I ever needed someone to back me up in a fight, he'd be there with a chain to swing and a board with a rusty nail through it in hand.
Amongst those who took moderate offense to the posts was Daisy. I say moderate offense because she does understand that I'm not "a mean person," nor was I completely dead serious with those immediate dismissals, and said that a few of them, at least, describe her -- going as far as to proclaim herself (in a sarcastic fashion) as "a princess," and getting her mother to back her up and verify this via Skype, something I found both hilarious and incredibly endearing. Okay, maybe I'll let the princess thing slide. But just this once.
Daisy's mother has been reading through my blog. I don't mind this at all, really, as my own parents read it (hi, Mom!); truthfully, I find it fascinating. Daisy and her mother are close, so it's not like it's a secret to her that Daisy and I are interested in one another (I'll get to that in a bit). What's fascinating about it is that her mother has read much more of this blog than even Daisy herself has as of yet.
Truthfully, it is supremely endearing and absolutely flattering that Daisy's mother is reading my blog. I think it's one of the sweetest things in the world. It shows that she cares about her daughter and that she wants to make sure that the guys her daughter associates with are upstanding individuals. Most mothers wouldn't do that. I want to give that woman a hug. It says so much about her as a person.
Daisy's mother even sent me a message on Facebook a few days ago about a particular style of clothes-dyeing she does, since she knows how much I enjoy my tie-dyes. It was very sweet, and it is a message that I have still yet to reply to, as I am A) nervous to talk to her because she is, after all, Daisy's mother, and B) because nobody's mother has ever sent me a message via Facebook before, especially not one so nice and sweet. I will, of course, reply to it soon.
As for me and Daisy herself? Well...
Truthfully, it's a bit hard to explain. I'm going to try anyhow.
Daisy and I are close. Very close. We spent a total of six hours yesterday on Skype together, talking/flirting/what-have-you, and probably about the same on Tuesday despite the fact that I taught Tuesday night and talked to other friends on both days, as well. Daisy and I have the sort of friendship already where we can look into each other's eyes via the Skype camera and know exactly what the other is thinking; words aren't always (or even frequently) necessary. Because of this she and I have a sort of connection that I'm not sure can really be defined. Yes, we are greatly attracted to each other, but yes, we are just friends. Yes, we are still over two hundred miles apart, but yes, each of us will get a little (or a lot) jealous when the other talks to or flirts with someone new via OkCupid or anywhere else.
We each test the other a bit in this regard, whether intentionally or otherwise; for example, April introduced me to one of her friends she goes to school with, and said friend and I talked a lot, getting to know each other. Said friend is very nice and sweet, but is also 1,400 miles away. I love getting to know new people, though, and April's friend is basically like the female version of myself, so we got along pretty well. Something may come of it, nothing may come of it -- who knows, since she lives 1,400 miles away -- but this girl is really nice, and we're getting to know each other on a friend level and have barely gotten past the state of introductions, brief histories of our pasts, educations, jobs, etc and the like. Still, because I was talking to someone new, and this someone was female, Daisy's proverbial claws came out. She was jealous. Like, upset-jealous; pouty, needy upset-jealous.
Which, I won't lie, is...ahem...hot.
Anyway.
Mind you, Daisy is not my girlfriend. Neither is this new friend I've made through April, who I'm just now getting to know a little better. One or the other may eventually become something more on a more-than-friends level, but right now? No. I talk to people, Daisy herself talks to people, we both have active profiles on OkCupid, and we both know that we're both going to socialize. I like making friends. I like finding people I have a lot in common with. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am a fairly social person, and if I can make a new friend -- whether I make said friend under the pretenses of simple friendship or the possibility of something more -- it's a chance I'm going to take, and I know it's a chance Daisy would take as well.
Daisy explains her jealousy by saying that yes, while we are friends, it's not like the door is closed to something more at some point, and for me to so casually flit around talking to new people like she doesn't matter is, on some level, a little disheartening, despite the fact that she does it too. Daisy is a strange one, yes. But Daisy also has an indescribable pull on me. I know that door isn't closed. It won't be, and I don't want it to be, at all. And I'll never act like she doesn't matter to me, regardless of who I talk to or befriend, because she does. She matters a lot. Probably more than I'm willing to admit fully in such a public forum or so soon, but Daisy is special to me, indescribably so. So indescribably that I'm really not sure what to label the friendship we have, because it's not just friends, despite the fact that's what we say it is, but it's not anything truly more than that either. I'm not sure if there's a sort of middle ground, a purgatory or limbo of sorts.
What's that old Mitch Hedberg line? "I don't have a girlfriend, but I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that."
Maybe it's something like that. I don't know.
I do know that Daisy's possessiveness and jealousy is really sweet, and that it stems from that knowledge we both have which tells us that the door to something more between us is not closed, and won't be -- probably not ever -- but setting a defined premise one way or the other cannot and will not happen at this time or possibly even in the foreseeable future.
What are my thoughts on this?
Well, let's just say that I haven't stopped researching vegetarian and vegan cooking, nor have I stopped researching the lifestyle -- but I've also made a good friend in the girl April introduced me to, and I do like making new friends and talking to new people, getting to know people on an interpersonal level, especially people as fascinating as this girl is. And, as I mentioned before, though we may not use them for much, Daisy and I both have active profiles on OkCupid. I have one on Plenty of Fish, too, as you know, and I think she does as well.
I haven't received any new messages from anyone on either site, in case you were wondering. Even the conversations I've had with women through OkCupid in recent weeks have fizzled and died out, all except for one woman -- you guessed it, Daisy. I don't know what that means. Nobody else I've talked to via that site has held my attention or captivated me like her. And I'm not sure, again, what that means, or if the fates are trying to tell me something.
Hey, Brandon, Fates here. How you doin'? This "Daisy" girl you write about? Yeah, she's something. Keep her around. Do whatever it takes. She'll be an important part of your life, trust me. Others may come and go. Relationships and friendships with other people may begin and end for each of you over time, but she'll always be there. Trust us, we're not usually wrong. You need her around. We like her. She appeals to your emotional, spiritual side, the side of you that makes you want to throw all your "rules" or "requirements" completely out the proverbial window just to be able to say you know her. She's an old soul. She's important, Brandon. Don't forget this. Listen to us.
That's sort of where I am right now, really. Open to all things on all fronts, but maybe hoping for one or two specific things to happen. What those things are, of course, I'm not even sure of completely myself. Time and patience, Brandon. Time and patience.
In other news, it is supposed to be 106-108 degrees here today. I have not yet gone to bed; I plan to sleep through the oppressive heat with an industrial-strength fan on me at all times, blowing me at its highest setting.
That sounds slightly dirty, doesn't it?
I have paid the rent and requested an appointment for the Westar Energy people (read: the electric company) to install the new WattSaver thermostat at some point in the near future. I don't know when that will be, but I can tell you that I do not like the heat, and I have $67.93 in my bank account until I am paid again a week from tomorrow. At least the WattSaver is free, and it's free installation. This is good, because I'm sure I'll be out of food, coffee, and smokes again before next Friday, and my big black landboat will need more gas before class on Tuesday night, even if I can only afford to put $10 or $15 in her to push me through those last few days before I can fill the tank.
So, my friends, after this incredibly long, intricate blog post, that's what's goin' on. I'll now retreat to my bed, where I will sleep away the heat and wake up sometime this evening. Mmm, bed. King-size bed. Where it's cool and comfortable, even if I am sleeping in it alone for the time being.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Immediate Dismissals, Part II: The Sequel
Last night's post got a lot of responses from friends who have messaged me or tweeted me. Surprisingly enough, those responses weren't to condemn me for being so shallow or superficial -- no, to the contrary, they wanted to add to the list. And they gave me more suggestions, almost all of which I agree with. My friend Adam was by far the most prolific, giving me about ten more additions to the list (which I will get to below, as you'll see). First, however, there are several more of my own that I discovered today that I'd like to add to the list, and I've already written about them on Twitter; here I'll get a chance to explain them more.
Immediate Dismissal #5: "I have a snake!"
Two of my friends objected to this one, including my good friend April, so I feel I must elaborate: guys with snakes generally tend to be pretty cool, if a bit weird. Women, however, who own snakes? They tend to be scary.
This is, I admit, probably my most shallow immediate dismissal because it's based on tendencies alone.
Immediate Dismissal #6: If the words "crazy," "bitch," or both appear in your username.
Not only will I run away, but I will run away screaming. Why, oh why, would you want to handicap yourself from the start, ladies? Are either or both of those terms attributes you want potential suitors to see right off the bat?
Immediate Dismissal #7: If you talk about your dead children in your profile.
I'm going to take some heat for this one, I'm sure, but I read no less than three profiles on Plenty of Fish in the past 24 hours that explained (sometimes in detail) that they were mothers whose children had died at an early age, sometimes infants. All three of them were much, much younger than me. Now, this is not a problem on principle; I want to make that clear. Of course it's not. My heart goes out to these young ladies who have lost children, and I absolutely feel sympathy for them and can't imagine the pain they must have gone through in losing a child.
That being said, when you're creating a dating profile, for what possible conceivable reason would you want to mention that, much less have it be one of the first things a potential suitor would see? There's "being an open book," and then there's "sharing way too much too soon." It's nice to be up front about things, but there's a time and a place for it, isn't there? Is that not more of a fact you bring up on a second or third date once you get to know someone better, regardless of how much you may be haunted by said child's death?
Maybe that's just me.
Immediate Dismissal #8: If you describe your sexual preference as "STRICKLY DICKLY."
Say it in Ned Flanders' voice.
Yes, I did see this on a profile this afternoon.
Need I really explain further?
Immediate Dismissal #9: If the suffix "-holic" is anywhere in your username or profile.
Generally a good reason to run away. Especially if said suffix is in the username. It's not usually a good sign. I don't care if it's chocoholic, shopaholic, or what have you, it's still generally not a good sign.
This probably sounds fairly shallow as well, doesn't it?
Immediate Dismissal #10: If the "six things I could never live without" section of your profile are the letters "C, H, R, I, S, and T."
I really don't have anything against people of faith. I don't. Really don't. I'm glad you have something to hold on to, something to grasp to get you through the tough times. And I respect that; even though it's a mindset I may never fully understand, I do respect it highly.
But if you have nothing but your faith? No other hobbies or interests, nothing you could even be bothered to be creative enough to list in a "six things I could never live without" section? That bothers me for some reason. It bothers me on an intellectual level, on a social level. You could've listed anything -- cell phone, makeup, music, car, pets, etc -- but you didn't. This just shows me that you must be a wholly one-dimensional person, or that you're looking for a one-dimensional person. At least that's the impression it gives me, anyhow. Maybe I'm wrong, but regardless, unless you find someone of your exact mindset, it's not a good impression it gives off. We get it, your faith is important to you. What else is?
Immediate Dismissal #11: If your profile picture is of you drunk and grinning while holding a bottle of alcohol I cannot afford.
My friend Adam chimed in to comment on this one: "It's okay to have ONE of many, but not the main one. There's my stance on it." I'm inclined to agree with him. Everyone has at least one picture of him/herself while drunk. I have many, scattered all over my Facebook, some while wearing a Superman costume (don't ask, seriously). Do I upload any of those pictures to my dating site profiles? No. Hell no. And even if I were to do so, they certainly wouldn't be made into my main profile picture. That just screams low-class.
Immediate Dismissal #12: If, in any of your photos, there is a Taylor Swift *tapestry* hanging on your wall.
No explanation should be necessary.
Posters are fine, though they'll make me arch an eyebrow if they're questionable. This was a full-blown tapestry. As in, a woven one. Like a rug. Rug art. That, my friends, shows devotion. Devotion to poor decor, that is.
And besides, Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time!
The rest of these come from my friend Adam. I tend to agree with most of them. The wording is his, not mine. The explanations, however, are.
Immediate Dismissal #13: "Undisclosed body type"
I don't necessarily have a problem with this, but then again I don't really have a problem with any body type. I have my preferences, but they're meaningless if the soul of a person isn't lovable to begin with.
Immediate Dismissal #14: "Extreme angles on pics"
I'm guessing he means something along the lines of the typical "MySpace profile photo" where the camera is held at arm's length at an angle? Something like that? It's not necessarily a turnoff, but it does show a lack of creativity.
Immediate Dismissal #15: "Anything fucking Disney related"
Hah, I sort of agree with him on this one.*
Immediate Dismissal #16: "Not using full words/texting-style sentences"
This is one of my biggest pet peeves not only on dating websites, but in real life as well. You can be as pretty as you want, but if you're too careless to put together a sentence or type like a human in complete sentences that actually make sense, why should I -- as an English instructor, especially -- devote my time to deciphering your babble?
Immediate Dismissal #17: "Ass pics/borderline nude: show some fucking class"
I don't really think any explanation is necessary here, either. Said behavior reeks of absolute desperation. It's also hilarious though, on some level, to see said pics by someone who is a mother of at least two children and/or an otherwise uptight-sounding religious nut.
Immediate Dismissal #18: "Hiding the face/using pics that aren't even of people"
Absolute dealbreaker in my book. Put up a clear picture of yourself. Always. Make sure it's a good one. If you don't, I immediately think you're hiding something. Possibly a penis. Yes, that's where my mind goes first. Tell me yours didn't just go there too. Tell me it won't go there the next time you see someone whose profile picture is a cartoon character.
Immediate Dismissal #19: The term "I listen to everything." No the fuck you don't, have some form of a fucking opinion on something.
Mind you, Adam is a musician/record label owner/former record company rep/promoter/etc. So this sort of thing bothers him a lot. It doesn't bother me as much as it probably should, though. This is usually a phrase people say when they don't want to offend or scare anyone off with their musical preferences, or conversely, when they're so boring that they don't have musical preferences.
Those are all the ones I have right now. Special thanks to my buddy Adam for adding those last ones there. Maybe eventually I'll add more to the list. I'll certainly keep these posts going if I get more suggestions from you folks, that's for sure.
* Except for The Incredibles. Because that is a fantastic film.
Immediate Dismissal #5: "I have a snake!"
Two of my friends objected to this one, including my good friend April, so I feel I must elaborate: guys with snakes generally tend to be pretty cool, if a bit weird. Women, however, who own snakes? They tend to be scary.
This is, I admit, probably my most shallow immediate dismissal because it's based on tendencies alone.
Immediate Dismissal #6: If the words "crazy," "bitch," or both appear in your username.
Not only will I run away, but I will run away screaming. Why, oh why, would you want to handicap yourself from the start, ladies? Are either or both of those terms attributes you want potential suitors to see right off the bat?
Immediate Dismissal #7: If you talk about your dead children in your profile.
I'm going to take some heat for this one, I'm sure, but I read no less than three profiles on Plenty of Fish in the past 24 hours that explained (sometimes in detail) that they were mothers whose children had died at an early age, sometimes infants. All three of them were much, much younger than me. Now, this is not a problem on principle; I want to make that clear. Of course it's not. My heart goes out to these young ladies who have lost children, and I absolutely feel sympathy for them and can't imagine the pain they must have gone through in losing a child.
That being said, when you're creating a dating profile, for what possible conceivable reason would you want to mention that, much less have it be one of the first things a potential suitor would see? There's "being an open book," and then there's "sharing way too much too soon." It's nice to be up front about things, but there's a time and a place for it, isn't there? Is that not more of a fact you bring up on a second or third date once you get to know someone better, regardless of how much you may be haunted by said child's death?
Maybe that's just me.
Immediate Dismissal #8: If you describe your sexual preference as "STRICKLY DICKLY."
Say it in Ned Flanders' voice.
Yes, I did see this on a profile this afternoon.
Need I really explain further?
Immediate Dismissal #9: If the suffix "-holic" is anywhere in your username or profile.
Generally a good reason to run away. Especially if said suffix is in the username. It's not usually a good sign. I don't care if it's chocoholic, shopaholic, or what have you, it's still generally not a good sign.
This probably sounds fairly shallow as well, doesn't it?
Immediate Dismissal #10: If the "six things I could never live without" section of your profile are the letters "C, H, R, I, S, and T."
I really don't have anything against people of faith. I don't. Really don't. I'm glad you have something to hold on to, something to grasp to get you through the tough times. And I respect that; even though it's a mindset I may never fully understand, I do respect it highly.
But if you have nothing but your faith? No other hobbies or interests, nothing you could even be bothered to be creative enough to list in a "six things I could never live without" section? That bothers me for some reason. It bothers me on an intellectual level, on a social level. You could've listed anything -- cell phone, makeup, music, car, pets, etc -- but you didn't. This just shows me that you must be a wholly one-dimensional person, or that you're looking for a one-dimensional person. At least that's the impression it gives me, anyhow. Maybe I'm wrong, but regardless, unless you find someone of your exact mindset, it's not a good impression it gives off. We get it, your faith is important to you. What else is?
Immediate Dismissal #11: If your profile picture is of you drunk and grinning while holding a bottle of alcohol I cannot afford.
My friend Adam chimed in to comment on this one: "It's okay to have ONE of many, but not the main one. There's my stance on it." I'm inclined to agree with him. Everyone has at least one picture of him/herself while drunk. I have many, scattered all over my Facebook, some while wearing a Superman costume (don't ask, seriously). Do I upload any of those pictures to my dating site profiles? No. Hell no. And even if I were to do so, they certainly wouldn't be made into my main profile picture. That just screams low-class.
Immediate Dismissal #12: If, in any of your photos, there is a Taylor Swift *tapestry* hanging on your wall.
No explanation should be necessary.
Posters are fine, though they'll make me arch an eyebrow if they're questionable. This was a full-blown tapestry. As in, a woven one. Like a rug. Rug art. That, my friends, shows devotion. Devotion to poor decor, that is.
And besides, Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time!
The rest of these come from my friend Adam. I tend to agree with most of them. The wording is his, not mine. The explanations, however, are.
Immediate Dismissal #13: "Undisclosed body type"
I don't necessarily have a problem with this, but then again I don't really have a problem with any body type. I have my preferences, but they're meaningless if the soul of a person isn't lovable to begin with.
Immediate Dismissal #14: "Extreme angles on pics"
I'm guessing he means something along the lines of the typical "MySpace profile photo" where the camera is held at arm's length at an angle? Something like that? It's not necessarily a turnoff, but it does show a lack of creativity.
Immediate Dismissal #15: "Anything fucking Disney related"
Hah, I sort of agree with him on this one.*
Immediate Dismissal #16: "Not using full words/texting-style sentences"
This is one of my biggest pet peeves not only on dating websites, but in real life as well. You can be as pretty as you want, but if you're too careless to put together a sentence or type like a human in complete sentences that actually make sense, why should I -- as an English instructor, especially -- devote my time to deciphering your babble?
Immediate Dismissal #17: "Ass pics/borderline nude: show some fucking class"
I don't really think any explanation is necessary here, either. Said behavior reeks of absolute desperation. It's also hilarious though, on some level, to see said pics by someone who is a mother of at least two children and/or an otherwise uptight-sounding religious nut.
Immediate Dismissal #18: "Hiding the face/using pics that aren't even of people"
Absolute dealbreaker in my book. Put up a clear picture of yourself. Always. Make sure it's a good one. If you don't, I immediately think you're hiding something. Possibly a penis. Yes, that's where my mind goes first. Tell me yours didn't just go there too. Tell me it won't go there the next time you see someone whose profile picture is a cartoon character.
Immediate Dismissal #19: The term "I listen to everything." No the fuck you don't, have some form of a fucking opinion on something.
Mind you, Adam is a musician/record label owner/former record company rep/promoter/etc. So this sort of thing bothers him a lot. It doesn't bother me as much as it probably should, though. This is usually a phrase people say when they don't want to offend or scare anyone off with their musical preferences, or conversely, when they're so boring that they don't have musical preferences.
Those are all the ones I have right now. Special thanks to my buddy Adam for adding those last ones there. Maybe eventually I'll add more to the list. I'll certainly keep these posts going if I get more suggestions from you folks, that's for sure.
* Except for The Incredibles. Because that is a fantastic film.
Immediate Dismissals
Watch this video. It sums up my thoughts on OkCupid (OkC) and Plenty of Fish (PoF):
I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.
Yep.
While talking to my friend Zedral tonight -- and becoming more bitter and jaded by the minute with said sites, I started putting together a list of "immediate dismissals." An "immediate dismissal" consists of a quality or characteristic that, well, immediately makes me dismiss someone and classify them as "un-date-able." It's basically a list of "hard no's" that play, in my mind, like a record scratch and send me running off screaming in the opposite direction. Figuratively speaking.
Perhaps this is a bit shallow of me.
Perhaps I'm just disgusted and ready to drink myself into a stupor over receiving the same search results of the same, damaged (or otherwise deranged) people every day.
Perhaps it's both.
Perhaps I'm sick of all of my best "matches" (meaning, in my mind, the people I would probably get along with best and/or actually find attractive) being over 200 miles away and/or they're not looking for anyone in my age range.
Perhaps it's all three! Joy of joys.
Ahem. Anyway. So I started a list of "immediate dismissals." Zedral and I found them hilarious. Here we go.
Immediate Dismissal #1: You have the word "princess" anywhere in your profile, username, photos, etc.
You are not special. You are not a princess. You are a normal person just like everyone else in the midwest. Calling yourself a "princess" in any way, shape, or form portrays a grand, false sense of entitlement in your life. Sorry, you're not entitled to shit. Get a job. It's even more disheartening to find someone who calls herself a "princess" yet has three children by the age of nineteen and still expects someone to swoop in and be their daddy, because "I deserve it, I'm a princess!" Grow up, get a job, learn how to make better decisions.
Immediate Dismissal #2: You're nineteen and have three kids.
I'm sorry if this makes me sound more shallow than usual, but if your profile says you're nineteen and you have three kids, and the oldest one is six, that tells me that you were having sex at the age of twelve or thirteen, depending on when your birthday is -- and while you may now be grown up and/or more mature than most nineteen-year-olds out there, apparently you weren't intelligent enough to learn from your first mistake and had two more. I'm not interested in someone ten years younger than me with three kids. I'm just not. That's sort of a dealbreaker for me. You're still a baby yourself! A baby! I was older than you are now when I lost my virginity! Ahem. Moving onward.
Immediate Dismissal #3: You have the terms "YOLO" or "Call Me Maybe" anywhere in your profile, username, photos, etc.
Be original. Be yourself. Stop referencing stupid songs or catchphrases. It shows a lack of creativity and a wealth of immaturity.
Immediate Dismissal #4: You mention your religion and how important it is to you within the first fifty words of your profile.
Next. No more explanation needed. Next. You'll try to convert and/or "save" me. Next. No one that religious isn't going to drive me up the wall and/or end up hating me within five minutes of talking to me. Again, next.
Other huge red flags:
These next few things were found on actual profiles from Plenty of Fish or OkCupid. They disturb me so much that I couldn't help myself from putting them on here as examples of things NOT to do. So here we go.
"Hi my name is [redacted] i am 21 i am a christian and am very serious about that. I try to base my life around that"
See #4 above.
"I am so much more than meets the eye"
You're a Transformer?
"Lookin for my Redneck Romeo"
No, just...no.
"I like to go out and be outdoors when it is warmer out. i got my hunters education license"
Translation: "I will probably shoot you if you piss me off."
Those are just a few samples.
To be fair, I have included the full text of my Plenty of Fish profile below. It's brutally honest. Zedral thought it was hilarious. I share it with you now.
Yeah, so there you go. That's my entire profile there. And I chose an actual decent photo of myself. So yes, I'm honest. I'm honest to a fault. And, of course, I have not had anyone message me yet, and don't really expect anyone to, as you read above.
I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.
Yep.
While talking to my friend Zedral tonight -- and becoming more bitter and jaded by the minute with said sites, I started putting together a list of "immediate dismissals." An "immediate dismissal" consists of a quality or characteristic that, well, immediately makes me dismiss someone and classify them as "un-date-able." It's basically a list of "hard no's" that play, in my mind, like a record scratch and send me running off screaming in the opposite direction. Figuratively speaking.
Perhaps this is a bit shallow of me.
Perhaps I'm just disgusted and ready to drink myself into a stupor over receiving the same search results of the same, damaged (or otherwise deranged) people every day.
Perhaps it's both.
Perhaps I'm sick of all of my best "matches" (meaning, in my mind, the people I would probably get along with best and/or actually find attractive) being over 200 miles away and/or they're not looking for anyone in my age range.
Perhaps it's all three! Joy of joys.
Ahem. Anyway. So I started a list of "immediate dismissals." Zedral and I found them hilarious. Here we go.
Immediate Dismissal #1: You have the word "princess" anywhere in your profile, username, photos, etc.
You are not special. You are not a princess. You are a normal person just like everyone else in the midwest. Calling yourself a "princess" in any way, shape, or form portrays a grand, false sense of entitlement in your life. Sorry, you're not entitled to shit. Get a job. It's even more disheartening to find someone who calls herself a "princess" yet has three children by the age of nineteen and still expects someone to swoop in and be their daddy, because "I deserve it, I'm a princess!" Grow up, get a job, learn how to make better decisions.
Immediate Dismissal #2: You're nineteen and have three kids.
I'm sorry if this makes me sound more shallow than usual, but if your profile says you're nineteen and you have three kids, and the oldest one is six, that tells me that you were having sex at the age of twelve or thirteen, depending on when your birthday is -- and while you may now be grown up and/or more mature than most nineteen-year-olds out there, apparently you weren't intelligent enough to learn from your first mistake and had two more. I'm not interested in someone ten years younger than me with three kids. I'm just not. That's sort of a dealbreaker for me. You're still a baby yourself! A baby! I was older than you are now when I lost my virginity! Ahem. Moving onward.
Immediate Dismissal #3: You have the terms "YOLO" or "Call Me Maybe" anywhere in your profile, username, photos, etc.
Be original. Be yourself. Stop referencing stupid songs or catchphrases. It shows a lack of creativity and a wealth of immaturity.
Immediate Dismissal #4: You mention your religion and how important it is to you within the first fifty words of your profile.
Next. No more explanation needed. Next. You'll try to convert and/or "save" me. Next. No one that religious isn't going to drive me up the wall and/or end up hating me within five minutes of talking to me. Again, next.
Other huge red flags:
These next few things were found on actual profiles from Plenty of Fish or OkCupid. They disturb me so much that I couldn't help myself from putting them on here as examples of things NOT to do. So here we go.
"Hi my name is [redacted] i am 21 i am a christian and am very serious about that. I try to base my life around that"
See #4 above.
"I am so much more than meets the eye"
You're a Transformer?
"Lookin for my Redneck Romeo"
No, just...no.
"I like to go out and be outdoors when it is warmer out. i got my hunters education license"
Translation: "I will probably shoot you if you piss me off."
Those are just a few samples.
To be fair, I have included the full text of my Plenty of Fish profile below. It's brutally honest. Zedral thought it was hilarious. I share it with you now.
About Me
Single white writer. College instructor. Blogger. Poet. Nerd.
Part-time hipster. Liberal. Tie-dye enthusiast. Beer snob. Professional
beard-grower. Pokemon Master. Reader of fine comic books. Caffeine
addict. Nicotine addict. Podcast addict. Father to three cats. Five Guys
lover. Driver of what Geico classifies as a "sports car." Papa Johns
frequent customer. Led Zeppelin fan. Steelers/Chiefs/Eagles fan. WVU
football supporter. Probably more narcissistic than I should be. Hate
being called stupid or a redneck just because I'm from West Virginia.
Oh, yes, I'm originally from West Virginia.
There's a lot more to me than that. Ask me. Seriously. This is a poor summary, and I consider myself a multifaceted person. So, if I haven't scared you off by the fact that I'm a poor, grad student nerd who lives alone, has three cats, and rarely leaves the house because he doesn't know anyone in town, then message me. Talk to me. Get to know me. I promise I'm worth it.
I'm almost thirty. I'm too old and too mature for the whole "dating scene." I despise it. I want to get to know someone well, by talking to them via IM or email or what-have-you before I fully let them into my life (read: before a real "date"). IM is preferred. I'm more eloquent in text, and tend to be really awkward and somewhat shy when meeting someone for the first time. Getting to know someone first definitely helps.
I smoke cigarettes. I'm trying to quit in a halfhearted fashion. If you can't deal with that, I'm sorry, ladies.
If you're allergic to cats, I'm also sorry. As I said before, I have three of them. They are my children. They love me and sleep with me. Most furniture in my house is covered with a thin layer of cat hair. Though I vacuum frequently, there ARE three of them.
I'm not looking for casual sex or a one-night stand or an open relationship or anything else of that sort. I'm big on monogamy. I want to settle down and be happy. That's all I've wanted out of life. I am a devoted, kind-hearted guy and I have a strong sense of honor and moral code.
I am also not religious. At all. And don't want to be. I am a life-long atheist. Don't try to "convert" or "save" me. It won't work and it's a major turn-off/red flag for me. Despite that, I will and do respect whatever religion you may happen to be. It doesn't bother me.
Along the same lines, though, if you're one of those "no sex before marriage" types, you might as well move along. While I would love to get married at some point over the next few years if I find the right person, sexual compatibility in a relationship is very important to me. And, really, it should be to you too. This may be bible-belt Kansas, but also please realize that this is the 21st century, not the 19th. Be realistic.
I don't really drink. Alcoholism runs in my family, and I'm not going to let that happen to me. I do, however, like beer. I don't drink it that much, but I do like it quite a bit. I drink a beer maybe once or twice a month.
If you've made it through my profile without cringing more than three times, congratulations. We'd probably get along well. Shoot me a message.
There's a lot more to me than that. Ask me. Seriously. This is a poor summary, and I consider myself a multifaceted person. So, if I haven't scared you off by the fact that I'm a poor, grad student nerd who lives alone, has three cats, and rarely leaves the house because he doesn't know anyone in town, then message me. Talk to me. Get to know me. I promise I'm worth it.
I'm almost thirty. I'm too old and too mature for the whole "dating scene." I despise it. I want to get to know someone well, by talking to them via IM or email or what-have-you before I fully let them into my life (read: before a real "date"). IM is preferred. I'm more eloquent in text, and tend to be really awkward and somewhat shy when meeting someone for the first time. Getting to know someone first definitely helps.
I smoke cigarettes. I'm trying to quit in a halfhearted fashion. If you can't deal with that, I'm sorry, ladies.
If you're allergic to cats, I'm also sorry. As I said before, I have three of them. They are my children. They love me and sleep with me. Most furniture in my house is covered with a thin layer of cat hair. Though I vacuum frequently, there ARE three of them.
I'm not looking for casual sex or a one-night stand or an open relationship or anything else of that sort. I'm big on monogamy. I want to settle down and be happy. That's all I've wanted out of life. I am a devoted, kind-hearted guy and I have a strong sense of honor and moral code.
I am also not religious. At all. And don't want to be. I am a life-long atheist. Don't try to "convert" or "save" me. It won't work and it's a major turn-off/red flag for me. Despite that, I will and do respect whatever religion you may happen to be. It doesn't bother me.
Along the same lines, though, if you're one of those "no sex before marriage" types, you might as well move along. While I would love to get married at some point over the next few years if I find the right person, sexual compatibility in a relationship is very important to me. And, really, it should be to you too. This may be bible-belt Kansas, but also please realize that this is the 21st century, not the 19th. Be realistic.
I don't really drink. Alcoholism runs in my family, and I'm not going to let that happen to me. I do, however, like beer. I don't drink it that much, but I do like it quite a bit. I drink a beer maybe once or twice a month.
If you've made it through my profile without cringing more than three times, congratulations. We'd probably get along well. Shoot me a message.
First Date
As I am a poor graduate student, my ideal first date would be
you sitting on my couch with me watching a movie (or I suppose I could
hook up my Xbox in the living room) and relaxing, getting to know one
another. Or sitting outside on my balcony and just
talking/smoking/having a beer. Or something along these lines, really. I
don't get out much, bars supremely bore me, and most movies these days
suck. Well, maybe most don't suck. Some do. I tend to like the nerdy
ones. Which I'm sure by this point you have already assumed.
Anyway.
At least I'm honest. Ahem, one at a time, ladies.
Note the dripping sarcasm there. I don't expect anyone to message me through this site, really.
You're probably not going to message me either, are you?
Doooo it. I dare you. Double-dog-dare you. Dooooo it.
Anyway.
At least I'm honest. Ahem, one at a time, ladies.
Note the dripping sarcasm there. I don't expect anyone to message me through this site, really.
You're probably not going to message me either, are you?
Doooo it. I dare you. Double-dog-dare you. Dooooo it.
Yeah, so there you go. That's my entire profile there. And I chose an actual decent photo of myself. So yes, I'm honest. I'm honest to a fault. And, of course, I have not had anyone message me yet, and don't really expect anyone to, as you read above.
Let's see what happens, cap'n.
[edit] I know some people will probably take offense to a post like this (no, Daisy, I'm not talking about you). If you do take offense to it? Lighten up. I'm trying to be funny. It's called me trying to make light of a really shitty situation by joking about it. People do that sometimes.
[edit] I know some people will probably take offense to a post like this (no, Daisy, I'm not talking about you). If you do take offense to it? Lighten up. I'm trying to be funny. It's called me trying to make light of a really shitty situation by joking about it. People do that sometimes.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Recent Visitors, Part II
Daisy and I are going to remain friends. Close friends, I'd imagine, but that's it. Yep.
I'm strangely okay with this.
She and I both want different things out of life, out of interpersonal relationships and friendships, and that's perfectly fine. She is a sweetheart and a kind soul in a world full of mostly horrible people, and I am immensely lucky to have found a friend like her via OkCupid, of all places. The site itself continues to be mostly a cesspool of wailing despair, but at least I've been able to make a few friends through it -- Daisy, of course, being one of them.
I'm happy enough, really. And so is she. We'll be great friends, and nothing else. Fine by me.
So, as I mentioned on Twitter earlier, well, it looks like I'm back to square one. Oh well. Like I said, I'm okay with that. Roll with the punches, big guy. Same as it ever was.
In other news, I did get paid on Friday. Finally. I now have enough money to pay the rent....and then I'm broke again. Yep. I have $593 in my bank account right now. The rent is $525. So I'll be left with $68 to my name until I get paid again on July 6. But, on the plus side, my bills will all be paid, and I'll survive.
I also paid my car insurance with my "emergency" credit card. I did that yesterday. I won't have to worry about that again for a while, at least. And, when I did pay it, I changed the payment plan from two payments a year to four. It won't let you change said payment plan until you pay your balance due, but I figured that it would be much easier to make four payments a year than two during the worst two months of the year for my finances -- December and June.
My friends are worried about me, worried about me having enough to eat, enough to survive on. They've told me as much. Some have told me several times. I put a lot of effort into calming their fears, actually. I'll be okay. I have some money. Not a lot, but some. And when I need food and food-like things, I'll get those things. No worries. It may suck for the next ten days or so, but I'll get by, folks. After that I'm good. No reason to worry about me. I'm a hardy individual. I will actually probably need to go get a few things later tonight of tomorrow (I am out of cat litter and coffee, two very important things).
This next week should be a fairly quiet one. I don't have a lot to cover in my class with my students, and I'm collecting their second set of papers to grade. Tomorrow night, I have two big things I'm going to cover with them which should take ninety minutes, tops, and then I guess I'm done for the evening. It's a light week even in the syllabus, which is surprising.
I have but four weeks left with them, and the last night of class is devoted to the final exam. I like my students. They're sweet, mostly intelligent, and for the most part are doing an excellent job in the class. I respect students who can take a summer class and excel in it. Many of them are non-traditional students, or students looking to get a leg up on the rest of their college career(s). Some are in their 40s, some are married with children, some are current or former military, and some are just kids who really want to get the class out of the way in the summer. I like this. It's a good mix of personalities, a good mix of people in general.
Last night, before bed, slightly sleep-deprived-delusional and definitely fatigued from the heat, I created a half-assed profile on Plenty of Fish. If you've not heard of it, it's another free dating site (ugh, I hate the term "dating site" on principle), and it operates a lot differently from OkCupid. I'm not a big fan of its user interface -- in fact, I mostly hate it -- but eh. I would imagine there are people on there who aren't on OkCupid, so why not?
And then I see taglines like "cum be mah redneck romeo."
Yes, that's real.
Seriously.
What the hell is wrong with people in the midwest? I mean, as a whole. I am as non-judgmental as possible, really -- I pride myself on being non-judgmental -- but who puts that as their tagline? Seriously.
Maybe I'm just different than most other people.
Another tagline: "lookin for a grown ass man."
Um...
Yeah, you know what? I'm just not going to comment on that.
Another tagline: "if you aint black, dont holla back"
In Kansas, quite possibly the whitest state in the union. Good luck with that.
Is it any surprise that I lose a little bit more faith in humanity every day? Not much, not a lot -- just a little.
I'll probably eventually delete the Plenty of Fish profile. The site leaves a lot to be desired, and it seems to be populated with society's rejects.
Yes, I fully realize that I am also one of society's rejects to a certain extent. But at least I can string together complete sentences, am furthering my education, and while I may not have a lot of money or a fancy car, I can and do get by pretty well.
"I'm chatting with a really cute girl on OkCupid right now," I told Andrea. "If only she could string together a sentence. Arrgh."
I paused for a moment before adding, "See what I said earlier? Cesspool. Wailing despair."
"There's someone out there in that cesspool for you," Andrea replied.
"That may be the sweetest thing I've heard all day," I said.
I love my sister. She can always put things into perspective for me.
I'm strangely okay with this.
She and I both want different things out of life, out of interpersonal relationships and friendships, and that's perfectly fine. She is a sweetheart and a kind soul in a world full of mostly horrible people, and I am immensely lucky to have found a friend like her via OkCupid, of all places. The site itself continues to be mostly a cesspool of wailing despair, but at least I've been able to make a few friends through it -- Daisy, of course, being one of them.
I'm happy enough, really. And so is she. We'll be great friends, and nothing else. Fine by me.
So, as I mentioned on Twitter earlier, well, it looks like I'm back to square one. Oh well. Like I said, I'm okay with that. Roll with the punches, big guy. Same as it ever was.
In other news, I did get paid on Friday. Finally. I now have enough money to pay the rent....and then I'm broke again. Yep. I have $593 in my bank account right now. The rent is $525. So I'll be left with $68 to my name until I get paid again on July 6. But, on the plus side, my bills will all be paid, and I'll survive.
I also paid my car insurance with my "emergency" credit card. I did that yesterday. I won't have to worry about that again for a while, at least. And, when I did pay it, I changed the payment plan from two payments a year to four. It won't let you change said payment plan until you pay your balance due, but I figured that it would be much easier to make four payments a year than two during the worst two months of the year for my finances -- December and June.
My friends are worried about me, worried about me having enough to eat, enough to survive on. They've told me as much. Some have told me several times. I put a lot of effort into calming their fears, actually. I'll be okay. I have some money. Not a lot, but some. And when I need food and food-like things, I'll get those things. No worries. It may suck for the next ten days or so, but I'll get by, folks. After that I'm good. No reason to worry about me. I'm a hardy individual. I will actually probably need to go get a few things later tonight of tomorrow (I am out of cat litter and coffee, two very important things).
This next week should be a fairly quiet one. I don't have a lot to cover in my class with my students, and I'm collecting their second set of papers to grade. Tomorrow night, I have two big things I'm going to cover with them which should take ninety minutes, tops, and then I guess I'm done for the evening. It's a light week even in the syllabus, which is surprising.
I have but four weeks left with them, and the last night of class is devoted to the final exam. I like my students. They're sweet, mostly intelligent, and for the most part are doing an excellent job in the class. I respect students who can take a summer class and excel in it. Many of them are non-traditional students, or students looking to get a leg up on the rest of their college career(s). Some are in their 40s, some are married with children, some are current or former military, and some are just kids who really want to get the class out of the way in the summer. I like this. It's a good mix of personalities, a good mix of people in general.
Last night, before bed, slightly sleep-deprived-delusional and definitely fatigued from the heat, I created a half-assed profile on Plenty of Fish. If you've not heard of it, it's another free dating site (ugh, I hate the term "dating site" on principle), and it operates a lot differently from OkCupid. I'm not a big fan of its user interface -- in fact, I mostly hate it -- but eh. I would imagine there are people on there who aren't on OkCupid, so why not?
And then I see taglines like "cum be mah redneck romeo."
Yes, that's real.
Seriously.
What the hell is wrong with people in the midwest? I mean, as a whole. I am as non-judgmental as possible, really -- I pride myself on being non-judgmental -- but who puts that as their tagline? Seriously.
Maybe I'm just different than most other people.
Another tagline: "lookin for a grown ass man."
Um...
Yeah, you know what? I'm just not going to comment on that.
Another tagline: "if you aint black, dont holla back"
In Kansas, quite possibly the whitest state in the union. Good luck with that.
Is it any surprise that I lose a little bit more faith in humanity every day? Not much, not a lot -- just a little.
I'll probably eventually delete the Plenty of Fish profile. The site leaves a lot to be desired, and it seems to be populated with society's rejects.
Yes, I fully realize that I am also one of society's rejects to a certain extent. But at least I can string together complete sentences, am furthering my education, and while I may not have a lot of money or a fancy car, I can and do get by pretty well.
"I'm chatting with a really cute girl on OkCupid right now," I told Andrea. "If only she could string together a sentence. Arrgh."
I paused for a moment before adding, "See what I said earlier? Cesspool. Wailing despair."
"There's someone out there in that cesspool for you," Andrea replied.
"That may be the sweetest thing I've heard all day," I said.
I love my sister. She can always put things into perspective for me.
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