Nor-fuckin-mal…

My moral compass has been out of order for quite some time. I think the only thing keeping me from going down a truly horrible path is my blind faith that there is a reason I should try to be good at some level. Let me tell you, it’s no god damned walk in the park.

It seems that there is a monster at my back, breathing ever so lightly on my neck whispering in my ear “just let it happen…” When it’s all said and done I can’t quite come to terms with something that should be so wrong, feels so right. In a twisted way, I think my acceptance of these facts and my openness to damn near anything you can throw at me is what scares people away. And my silence doesn’t seem to help my cause either.

I’m scared right now. This is a fairly dry chapter in my life and I feel it must change. I don’t know how or when I can make that happen. Instead of having that ominous creature known as ‘life’ at my back all the time, I would really like to turn around, grab it by it’s throat and fuck the dog-shit out of it. If I do this however, I’m pretty confident that there isn’t going to be anyone standing by my side, let alone anyone be OK with it in general. I must take baby steps. Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.

We aren’t here for long so we may as well have some compassion for those around us and not ignore what we know to be true in our hearts. For some, we just want to be really fucking good at our trade or maybe simply be a good person for family. Maybe some people want to live a more reserved life while someone else wants to snort cocaine off a hooker’s ass. Either way, why don’t we all just do it and not worry about the end state. There will be people who are not OK with any of your choices. In fact there will be people unhappy with your choices in life simply for the fact that they are your choices and not theirs.

I don’t quite know how to responsibly break out of my normal-ness right now and still maintain what little credibility I’ve managed to restore. Maybe I’ll just sit quietly and see who comes around. I’m tired of trying to be the one who comes around for others when all they really want is… Normal…

Cosmopolitan Dating…

I recently met a girl… Oh god, another blog on the internet about dating and experiences that no one else really cares about right? Well, I wanted to write about a concept that I’ve been thinking about the last few weeks.

“Does she like me?” “Is he stable?” “Does she shave?” “Does he love his mom?”

Typical questions we may ask ourselves in the initial process of getting to know someone. The rush of uncertainty within the first stages can be fun and aggravating all at the same time. Why do we do it? I call it Cosmopolitan Dating.

In current times we have social media to help carry us through those ‘oh-so-tough’ personal situations. Motivational memes that tell us to be strong or that being single is the best thing ever or that we are meant for greater things…. Yawn…

My first handful of dates with this girl were great! Really. For me at least. I really liked this one. She was a sight for my sore eyes. She had a slight bitchiness that went along great with her apparent passion to enjoy life however she could. I wanted to do everything right just in case this was one of those elusive unicorns that we all hear about.

Weeks later, I still got excited to see her. Sweaty palms and all. I was excited to see a text from her at any random time. Problem was, each subsequent date felt like the first date over and over again. A connection I was yearning for still seemed like it was dependent on how each first date went. I would talk with friends about it and a common piece of advice was to play a game of sorts. “Make yourself unavailable” or “Ignore her for a while”, “make her feel envy”… Sorry, but I’m not a game player like that and even if I was, why the fuck would I want to pursue someone who I have to play those games with?

Before social media, we relied on these magazines that guided us with articles about sex, dating, being single, being a player… and so on. Why do we have to conform to those standards? Is it because some angsty journalist had some bad experiences yet can write really really well so we take what they say as gold? That’s my guess. It’s probably from decades of Dear Abbeys as well.

Dating should be about doing what YOU feel is right. Not what someone else pushes on you as the way things are supposed to be. As soon as I realized that the only feasible way to ‘maybe’ get anywhere with this girl was to play this game, I shut myself off. I got the hint… whatever that means.

I’m 35 and I can reliably say that I don’t need newsstand advice on how I should feel about pursuing a relationship with someone else. It truly should be ‘Fuck Yes’ or ‘Fuck No’… (google it) This in-between shit isn’t worth it.  

Perpetual Disappointment…

I’ve discovered a problem with trying to do to many things in my life. In the last ten years I’ve done more than some people do in a lifetime. I’m not boasting about it here… because really, it’s quite depressing.

In the second year of flight school, I would actually get bored doing solo flights. Well, until I got lazy with a stall here and there and almost shit myself when I felt a spin about to happen. But really… who gets bored flying?

It seems that much of what I do with my life has the same feeling. A lot of times it’s with women. Just like the planes I flew in school, there’s a point at which you realize that there was a bunch of dudes (and women too) who got their rocks off with her before you did. And probably did cooler things too! There’s nothing special about it… Just flying around in circles like everyone else has done before. Yawn…

My boredom stunted my progress as is does with a lot of things lately. Maybe I’m just being whiny or entitled but come on people! Throw me a bone! It could be that I need more friends… Or more money… However the cheese is cut, I need to find a way to be satisfied with life again.

Because of what I’ve recklessly done with myself over the years, I raised the bar for what I expect out of people. It’s not that people in my life aren’t/can’t be amazing, it’s that I need to realize that most people actually think ahead about how their actions will effect them later in life.

I mean… Who hasn’t been deployed to combat, built a restaurant, attained a commercial pilot license, lived on a sailboat, traveled to other countries, lived all over the US, acquired (almost) a massage therapist certification, developed websites, jumped out of planes, climbed trees for a living, drove semi-trucks cross country, slung coffee, smoked a cigar with Miss. Washington… And who has run out of fingers and toes to count how many … ehh, never-mind that one.

I’m off to shower, get dressed in my lame clothes and go to the shitty coffee shop down the street in hopes of running into my soul-mate. Then again, maybe my soul mate is on craigslist.

Happy touch…

Just a quick thought from a discussion thing-a-majig I had to do for the little business class I’m in. Juvenile topic but it’s something that doesn’t get enough visibility. Are we really better off as a developed nation? Are we actually a developed nation? Quite honestly, I think we are about as far from being advanced as human beings as it can get. I mean, sure we have cool technology and we are connected and live comfortably for the most part. Aside from the perpetually homeless, nobody in the US lives directly on top of an active landfill like they do in some Haitian villages. Does that make us any happier? Does living in a ‘developing’ nation mean those people are less happy? I don’t think so.

There are too many variables in this kind of argument to say there is one answer in any direction but overall I think we have a skewed view on what it means to be ‘happy’ in this world. I’m happy on my own little level but it isn’t because I live in an upper quality apartment in an area with one of the highest costs of living in the US. I’m not happy simply because I have a light switch to turn on a light and a ceiling fan to sit and type on my obnoxiously expensive Apple computer. I’m not even happy because I’m currently sitting here dressed in clothes that I paid over a few hundred bucks for. I really don’t know how to explain what I’m happy about. It’s sure as hell not because of anything that capitalism and greed and envy has gotten me.

There was a point in time recently that I met a new person. She was in the presence of her boyfriend. She is a very friendly and open person, but in the moment of sharing goodbyes I noticed something extremely disturbing. She went to hug me but stopped. Odd? This action actually happened a few times. It was semi-apparent that a more ‘PC’ form of departing words and actions was appropriate. A simple handshake and a ‘nice to meet you’ was all that came out. So why not just give a heartfelt hug? It made my heart hurt a bit. Is this the society we have become? The feeling may or may not have been mutual but why have we become a species of humans that disregards human contact and interaction based on the risk of hurting the feelings of others? Has pride and ego really taken over us?

We’ve lost touch with touch. We’ve lost touch with what we really are as human beings. We are a soul, whether infinite or finite, that is having an experience in this physical realm. Why can’t we accept and explore every bit of it? This person mentioned above was a beautiful woman with some excellent knockers, but that’s not my motivation for seeing the desire to wrap an arm around a person and embrace them as another body-bound soul who yearns to experience the touch of another. Just because a person hugs another does not always mean there is a sexually driven cause for the matter. Or is it the fact that we as humans understand so little about each other that we segregate physical contact from our everyday interaction? Maybe some people have no idea what the power of real interaction up to and including sex can really do for a person or persons. How many people out there can truly say they’ve had soul tearing sex before? The kind where all you want to do is find a way deeper inside the other person? Has anyone experienced that from a simple hug or caress of the hand? Even a look in the eye? We are in no way a developed nation or society. Not even close.

We turn to mechanisms such as religion, taboo sex, cliches, personalities etc., to try and define our experience here on earth. I’m not saying we all need to start having open relationships and random sex, but we need to be open to the possibilities that allowing interaction, as uncomfortable as it may be at the time, may give you more than you’ve ever imagined. To the bitchy girl that snubs me when I say hi or give a nod, does she not realize that there are people out there like me that would take a mere ten seconds to give someone else my utmost attention and affection? Chances are she’s being bitchy for reasons that she doesn’t need to be. If I see despair or stress in someone’s eyes, wouldn’t it be nice to walk up, give a genuine hug and tell them that everything will be alright? For some people, it would be more than they’ve ever experienced from anyone else in their entire life. For many, we will never experience it because we are unfortunately in a world where we have to judge other’s motivations. Aside from my idealistic thoughts on the matter, it’s no wonder that the bitchy girl walking down the street doesn’t want the experience of sharing her soul with a complete stranger. He/she may take it the wrong way, drag her into a back alley, rape her and leave her for dead. We are in a sad downward spiral that I don’t believe we can get out of.

We are going down the wrong path to be happy. We are loving ourselves more and more and immersing ourselves in technology that keeps us clearly segregated from people that we may or may not benefit from being around. It’s pretty sad when you can figure out the status of a friendship or acquaintance by the action or inaction of ‘friending’ on social media. It’s actually pretty fuckin’ stupid.

Fuzzy cuffs…

I have a peculiar way about me that makes some people turn their backs to me. This isn’t a pouty little entry about how no one likes me… Waaah… I know that plenty of people like me in their own special way. I was sitting here thinking about all kinds of situations I’ve found myself in over the past fifteen years or so of my life and there’s a striking commonality with events in my life.

Girlfriends and even friends have been unfaithful to me. People have befriended me at times for superficial reasons. Even complete strangers treat me like I’m a strange object for their affection. Affection for whatever it is they are thinking about and want me to be influenced by it. People don’t like my approach a lot of times. I have a dry sense of humor and I’m fairly passive… To a point…

I’ve noticed some of these consignees that I deliver to are complete assholes. Some guy in Minnesota at SuperValue foods starting getting pissy like a spoiled thirteen year old because I wanted to verify I was in the correct spot because the address on the shipping papers conflicted with my dispatch. Simple question but when he threw my paperwork down and walked away from me I simply turned around to go back to the truck. As I turned around I voiced my broad opinion and said something that I’m actually going to censor from this blog. He got the point that I could really care less about whatever the hell I was delivering. My job description does not state anything about having to put up with shit like his. Eventually it all got taken care of and I finally left that place. Maybe it was just Minnesota… Even the dispatchers at some of these terminals are total cockwads. I called one lady and started to say what I needed and mid sentence she said in a very cuntish tone, ‘what’s your truck number?’ Ok, so I told her. She asked what I needed… As soon as the first word came out of my mouth she got even more cuntish and exclaimed ‘you’re going to have to speak up or call back some other time, I can’t play this game right now.’ Wow… Ok…

I’m sure that story fits in with this idea somehow. Thing is, I’ve made a constant effort in the past many years of my life to be considerate and understanding when it comes to dealing with people. I try to be nice to fast food workers, bankers, toll booth operators, school administration and for the most part complete strangers. When people turn on me, I typically don’t snap back. I simply close up my thoughts and work on my plan of attack to leave the situation.

I’ve also tried to be more considerate to people that come into my life. Maybe it can be called accommodating. The last roommate situation I was in, I made sure to keep my ‘crap’ out of common areas and respect the space and peace of others. Apparently things don’t get reciprocated like I would expect. There was a fast approaching breaking point for me and I decided it would be best to leave. Now all I have to deal with is my personal business being talked about and judgement being passed by people who might not be aware that I do cover myself with keeping evidence of nefarious activities… Just to keep the playing field level…

My accommodation also comes in the form of simply being concerned of someone else’s well being when they are around me. A funny little incident happened a while back. I was in bed with someone and she seemed quite uncomfortable throughout the night. I woke up because I had the sense that she was awake. She was tossing and turning and in the haze of waking up it seemed like she was on the verge of saying something… So I asked very quietly ‘are you awake?’ Dumb question I know, but if she was asleep I’d let her sleep obviously… Apparently she’s a light sleeper because she jumped up in a sort of panic and flopped out of the bed. ‘Whats going on? What time is it?’ I… Uhh… It’s like 4 am, I was seeing if you were ok…. She actually got pissed at me for waking her up. Sorry? Go back to sleep? But no, she decided to immediately get out of the bed, get dressed and leave to go do whatever the hell it is she does… Later that day I was actually quite irritated at her because of that (amongst other things). I said, ‘ya know, sorry I woke you but you didn’t need to react that way. I was making sure you were ok because it seemed like you were either uncomfortable or maybe needed something…’ End result of that day was me realizing that although some people don’t know how to handle my version of concern and consideration, I’m not planning on changing anytime soon… And no, me and this girl were not, and never have had sex. It’d probably be awesome if we did, but she’s got a few too many ‘other guy’ issues to work out.

If you made it this far, here’s where the meat of my blog idea takes place.

None of us can make everyone happy all the time. Someone is going to have a problem with something that we do at some point. It could be your past, your present or your future plans. Trying to please people is seemingly a dead end road… But it’s not.

I don’t ever regret being nice to someone. I don’t ever regret taking charge of a situation. I don’t ever regret trying to get along with others. I don’t regret being considerate or kind or even a bit ‘too nice’. When it comes to looking at a prospective relationship with someone, I am in fact a nice guy. I wait to make the first move. I’m cautious when I express how I feel. Even with friends, I try to be less difficult when it comes to whatever it is that we are doing. I’m an easy guy and I know that it’s not all about me.

So the conundrum about nice guys finishing last versus sometimes it’s best to just take control… I get it. I really do. Sometimes I just have to speak my mind. I guess I have to be a dick sometimes. That is, if it’s meant to be all about me…

I keep a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to remind me of who I am at heart. Once someone lets me in, it’s Game on! The handcuffs resemble a control that I am completely comfortable having with someone else, yet making it have nothing to do with me. I want to earn the trust of others to the point where they know I’m not going to betray them. If they want to betray me, then it’s a whole other story. I’m a passive person on the outside but there is still in fact a little fire inside me that I wish to be able to share with someone else again. Preferably with someone who appreciates my attempt at being considerate and can work through my social awkwardness…

I’m apologetic about a lot of things that are a result of my actions but I am not apologetic about who I am and who I want to be.

The box…

Another ‘part two’ for my daily blog… Of a totally different topic…

I’ve come across a lot of articles and blogs about sex and relationships and happiness lately. I’m sure it’s not a trend out of the ordinary but probably something that I need more of in my life.

I’ve been stuck on this god-forsaken truck for just about two months. When I was assigned the truck it had a generally clean appearance to it. For having a ton of miles on it, I was impressed. Aaand then I drove it down the road. It’s only an eight speed. For those who drive manual transmissions, the performance behind shifting this thing is like starting your car out in first gear then having to shift all the way to fourth gear to accelerate. Literally, it’s just like that. It sucks ass. I’ll be maxed out on RPMs even with a light load and go to shift to the next gear and it damn near stalls out. The RPMs are immediately too low for the turbo to kick in so I end up having to slam it back into the higher gear and run up the RPMs…. Can this fuckin’ thing just blow up already? I could really use a splitter these days…

Not sure why I decided to write all that, but at least I got it off my chest… Speaking of chest, I finally saw a pair of naked boobs in a car this week! The highlight of my life right now. But really, what’s the point of seeing boobs if you can’t do anything with em’?

Ya know what I miss? Blow jobs? Nah… Never been a big fan of those… Beer? Well, yea but it’ll come soon enough… I miss something I’ve never quite had completely… A relationship…

The regular sex, and cuddling and general companionship is of course on the list of what I miss, but I want something more. I’m a weird dude, ain’t gunna lie. I don’t know what it is that turns people off so much but I constantly try to figure it out… Reminds me of when I got a job recently and I asked one of the workers what everyone thought of me. (This place had mostly females)… I wanted workable feedback but all I got was… ‘Well, we all think you’re hot’… Seriously? ‘And *name omitted* thinks you have a nice butt… Oops, was that not want you meant?’ Anyways, I don’t think I’m overly attractive either, but people generally only want what’s on the surface, and my ‘surface’ is not meant to impress…

So how the hell do I wade through the rubbage to find the pool of compatible companions? Dating sucks… Being friends sucks… Putting on a front sucks… Sometimes I don’t see the meaning in being cordial with certain people because they make it so very apparent that they could really care less…

And being stuck in this fuckin’ box doesn’t help either. And it’s not just about being on the truck. It’s about being stuck in this box of a life I’ve managed to find myself in. I have tunnel vision when it comes to focusing where I want to go next. No one wants to come along for that crazy ride right? I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be by my side right now…

I’m perfectly content being just the way I am right now. I’ve got no one to answer to and very few people text me any more so I don’t have to stress about what someone will think if I don’t text back right away. And call me? Hah! Right… I’ve felt more love and attention from the leasing agent at the apartment complex than anyone else in the past many years of my life…

For people who have been single for a great majority of their life, none of this is new. The single life is great for some things, and crappy for others… I’m just really tired of living my life just for myself. Hell, even if it’s a relationship of predetermined length I’d be happy…( well, actually that might suck at the end…)

This blog went nowhere… Go figure… Whatever weird muscle ailments animals get when they are caged for too long is probably what I’m getting now… Getting fat is one of those ailments… I get out of the truck lately and the first ten steps are walking like I have a stick up my ass. I’m done now…

Post 243

So this is post number two hundred and forty three for the year. I had a little hiccup last night with writing. I had my iPad on my lap prepared to write something… I totally passed out. Not even sure why because I had gotten plenty of sleep and I had only been driving for a little over seven hours. Oh well. To be able to write ‘something’ every day is a little harder than one might think. I’ll have to double up soon to end up with at least a years worth of blogs when this year comes to an end.

I’ve been shut down for the day in central Oregon since my delivery still has another day until I can show up. After spending a day catching up on laundry, watching some old western movies, watching videos on server side scripting language and falling in and out of random naps I decided my blog needs a little more flavor.

Though some may tell me otherwise, my life isn’t as fulfilling as I want it to be. At least I don’t think so. There’s a few stories I could tell that could make the most un judgmental person reconsider their stance but I have to be careful. What if the mother of a former partner in crime read this? I’d feel bad for the impact it could have. Plus I realize that although I don’t really care what really care what people think of me, I still have a reputation to guard that doesn’t need the scrutiny of prospective employers or clients.

So my most popular topics so far have been about sex, yoga pants and surprisingly a one paragraph post about needing a co-pilot in life. Runner ups include my feelings on military, war and my thoughts on religion.

I don’t use a prompt to write, nor do I base a majority of these posts off anything mainstream. At least I try not to. A part of me wishes I lived a little more deviant adolescence in which my story could have some more worth. I read some blogs about some really fucked up people and I must say, I’m hooked on their story. The sex addicts, former heroin junkies, cutters, psychopaths, super sluts gone single mother status, self proclaimed missionaries… The list goes on and on…

I wanted to write about sex. I mean, something to really get a reaction out of my readers. Which by the way, for not advertising my blog I am amazed at the number of people that read this out of the blue. It’s why I write. The readers. The masses. Anyone that can get a grasp for what I’m trying to do here. Anyways, onward to sex.

I’ve had my fair share. I’m sure I’ll get some heat for what I write here from my future wife but anyone of importance in my life want judge at all for my past. What’s my number? Hahahah, you think I’m going to admit that here? Ok, well it’s twenty two. And no, the rule of threes doesn’t apply here. (When guys tell you how many you typically divide by three, when women tell you you multiply it by three).

There is a reality I want to share about how I feel about sex but first I will say that every single woman I’ve been with has been extremely important to me in their own special way. No matter how meaningless or ill performed it was (on either side), it helps me realize more and more of who I am.

The reality is… It’s just not what it used to be. I used to hold women on a pretty high pedestal. Part of the motivation was simply to get some action. A bigger part of it was because I really thought that something amazing could come out of meeting the right one. Maybe I’m just jaded from the handful of them that have screwed me over. Maybe it’s because there are some out there that I couldn’t quite get into the sack. My belief is that I’ve accepted the fact that I am allowed to have standards. Not just shaved, cleaned and taken care of either. I mean someone who fits my mold. Someone I don’t have to wonder about. Someone that doesn’t leave a shadow of a doubt in my head when they leave for a few days. I think I’m getting bored of the game.

Sure, I’ve got some baggage. Who doesn’t? My family situation is a huge sore spot right now and my social circle has turned into a pizza baked on the oven rack without a pan. I’m a fairly quiet guy without a lot of weird idiosyncrasies. I try to be accommodating and supportive. I’m self sufficient, good with my hands and can hold my own with any new learned skill. I’ve got hopes and dreams. I may not be super tall but I don’t think I have short mans complex. Enough about me…

Whether I’ve had sex with a woman or not, I’m finding myself frustrated. Sure, she’s got a great ass and that wonderfully kissable neck, but does she have the temperament to live a life with a person like me? Is she still trying to sow her wild oats? Is she simply at a pit stop in her life and is patiently waiting for something better?

Reminds me of being in a strip club while in the military. I actually didn’t look forward to going most of the time and when I did, I was quite bored. I’d watch the women on stage dancing all sexily-like while they stared off into oblivion… Kind of like a drone sitting at an office cubicle. I actually only really liked one stripper. No, not the one with t-rex sized arms. She came and sat on my lap asking if I wanted a lap dance. I was never hesitant to inform any of them if I didn’t have money, and I told her just that. “I’m just here with my friends and I don’t have cash or money to spend… Sorry”… She was cute and all but I figured when I told her that, she would get up and go to the next one. Funny thing, she stayed with me… Sitting on my lap of course. The whole night she turned down guys asking her for dances and she only left me to go dance on stage when it was her turn. She came right back. Now I’m not that naive to realize her game here, but why on a busy night would one of the better looking strippers be sitting on a guys lap that hasn’t spent a dollar on her or anyone else for that matter? I asked her why and she simply said she didn’t feel like dealing with the clientele in there and would rather be sitting talking to me. I took that with a grain of salt… I ended up staying until the club closed down and she probably made a whopping $40 that night. I was in love with a stripper and I never even got her name… And no, I didn’t go home with her and I never saw her again…

What I realized from that night (which was one of my last times in a strip club) was that regardless of who they are or what they do, a girl wants what a girl wants. Would I ever date a stripper? Probably not… Would I have sex with one? Probably not… At least not while they are practicing the profession. I don’t judge but I also have abstract limits to what I’ll do.

Back to another realization of that night, even though she was getting nothing from me at all, she made me feel good about myself. Maybe she was assuming I’d come on payday and spend every last dollar on her, but I think I made it clear to her that I wasn’t the kind of guy to frequent these places. Anyways, my point here is that I’ve met few women outside of this anomalous situation that have actually made me feel truly wanted like she did. Yes I know, the reality of it was that she was a stripper and her job was to be nice to guys like me… Thats not my point here…

I’ve spent a lot of money on (non-stripper) girls. A lot. Where has it gotten me? Sitting in the back of a semi truck in Central Oregon writing about how screwed up I’ve allowed my life to get. I’m surprisingly ok with that however, because I’d rather be sitting here writing about the downfalls of my personal life than spending it with someone who has a perpetual look of ‘I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be’ on their face.

Sadly, there always seems to be some sort of deal breaker… She’s got ex issues, I have a gypsy soul, she’s a raging alcoholic, I’m emotionally guarded… Or we’re simply not attracted the way we’d hope to be. One of us seems to want something just a little bit different.

So here I sit at this point in my life… As if I was back in that chair in the strip club. I’m not throwing anything out there to attract the flies but patiently waiting for someone to come along and we’ll both know its right… Then maybe sex will be something I really look forward to again.

In real life…

People are funny. We live in a culture where moments of intimacy are typically only expressed in movies and books yet in real life we push those real feelings aside for the characters we create to live a life we don’t fully understand. I think of those nazi Germany movies where the personal lives of everyday people had to be disguised to the point where even within the confines of their own home they can’t be who they really are.

It’s a shame really.

Cologne…

A few years back I was dating a girl (weird huh?) with quite a peculiar way of building a relationship with someone. First weird part was that she was best friends with her ex boyfriend. Not just the kind of friend that you could call every once in a while and talk about life stresses, but more so the kind of friend that she felt it was ok to sleep over with… In his bed… Because they were ‘just friends.’

She was not the kind of girl any straight guy could simply ‘sleep’ next to and her ex was no guy that should ever turn down anything half as good looking as she is. He wasn’t gay, just an insecure fat guy with a nice guy complex. Funny how that worked out in my favor. I was the one that she was ‘seeing’ outside of her confused relationship with the ex. After all was said and done, she’s now back with him and I think they’re married. Oh well.

Back to my scattered story. When we were pretty well into this relationship, she asked me to take her on a real date. She had never been on a real date and wanted to know what it was like. Dress up, bring flowers, nice restaurant, etc etc… It was the stupidest thing I ever did. How do you do an impromptu date where expectation is everything!? I dug out the dress shirt and tie and ironed some slacks in hopes of impressing this chick that I had already been fucking for a few weeks? Whatever. With the help of her friend, we timed it so I’d show up at her house with some orchids or carnations or whatever and it would almost be like I’m picking up a date for a school dance.

I won’t lie, when she came out of her room she looked like a million bucks. Is that how they say it? The black dress, the hair, the ass… Why were we going out again? We drove to the restaurant where I had reservations and it was one of the most uncomfortable situations I had ever been in. I had to refrain from whispering in her ear all the dirty things I was thinking of doing to her. Instead I had to tell her how beautiful she was and how good she smelled… She was in fact beautiful and she did smell good but the lack of a panty line and glow of her skin that night did nothing for the lack of personality she really had. Long story short here, the night was boring. We took the long way back and upon getting back to her house she wanted nothing more than a kiss and off to home I would go. Did she not realize I shaved my balls for this night! Oh well, the next night would be back to normal…

Now I love to get dressed up and do all that fancy-schmancy stuff but to be forced into it, that’s a whole other story. With this girl, I think she was less than impressed with the whole thing. What does she expect? Just the night before we had a good eight hour romp and I’m supposed to revert back to the courting stage? If she wanted a fun night out why not go camping or to a concert or even to the local dive bar and play some pool?

I’m not a fan of putting on a facade for a few reasons. First of all, what are you going to do with yourself when it wears off and the other person realizes you aren’t the ‘most interesting man in the world?’ Why play all your cards at once? Save the good stuff for later and you’ll find someone who appreciates you for who you are and not what you’ve bought (probably by going too deep into debt). Another reason… What are you hiding? The truth comes out sooner or later and because I’m a guy, I’ll pick on my gender. Too many guys put on this elaborate show for a girl, get her locked in and by the time the relationship needs to go to the next level, the guy has nothin’. His fancy car seems a bit too normal and his sixteen dollar an hour job (rule of doubles: he’ll say he makes twice what he really does to impress) doesn’t seem to be quite what is needed to do really awesome things in life and the personality all of a sudden becomes shit.

Did I mention guys (many, not all) are douchebags? I’ll try to stay off that tangent for now.

Back to what I was saying about facades. If this girl wanted me to treat her right and give her something she’d never forget, she should have simply stopped being a confused slut and given me a reason to want to do something on my own accord. I mean the sex was amazing and the reverse cowgirl was to die for but how about someone that treats me with respect? Not for the money I had or the lengths I would go for someone, but for what I really want out of life.

One of the big reasons I’ve decided to get rid of all my stuff and live with the bare minimums is the quality of people you meet. My boat is smaller than my walk in closet was in North Carolina. My car is probably being spotted right now for some wanna-be Mexican gang chop shop. I’m short. I don’t like awkward conversation. I can do just about any job I want but I’d rather be a garbage man or climb trees simply for the satisfaction of working hard and earning the beer at night. Why would I give any part of my life to someone who can’t appreciate me through all of the above without judgement? When I had the restaurant, I had money… And friends… Funny because the day I sold it and handed the key over, not a single soul was by my side to see me essentially give away something that I had given my life, sanity and well being for. So what’s the point?

Of course one day I’d like to get a nice car again and maybe have a house (or a really big boat) and settle into a community. Until then I want to live life for myself and see what comes of it. No deception, no broken promises or bum expectations… Time to impress myself…

Not the fruit…

About dancing… Years ago I worked for a Papa Murphy’s Pizza joint. Too many stories but amongst robberies, first kisses, underwear-less sluts sitting on the prep tables and jealous family of owners I had my first taste of something wonderful. There was a girl named Amanda that I worked with (ironic) that had a desire to learn some swing. She was actually quite a bitch. Cute little blonde haired bible thumping hypocrite she was. Anyways, I was smitten with her interest in dancing so I weasels my way into taking a few lessons with her. Our introductory lesson was the lindy hop. All I could think was ‘what the hell is this?’ Two hours of me walking a straight line and her gracefully covering my tracks with an elongated turn. Not only was I with some girl who was probably on some rag-time of her own, I was sorely disappointed in the lack of passion that was being taught. Meh…

Years later is when I decided to take actual ballroom lessons in North Carolina. Lets not pay too much attention at the thousands of dollars I spent, but more so the introduction to what dancing is all about. My teacher was a nice lady… Middle school teacher that was probably quite the hottie in her earlier days. Even for a sixty-something cougar she was quite a sight for sore eyes. Everything was gravy until my thigh touched her vagina.

The particular version of the foxtrot (if you can really call them versions) called for a closed position. None of this arms length shit. It was becoming a full contact sport. As much of a horn-dog military guy as I was, learning to actually dance was my only priority when I was at the studio. I had been hesitant to lead not because of a lack of confidence, but because of a lack of knowledge of the basic steps. One night it clicked. I was put with a new girl who had never danced before. It was robotic. My instructor saw the predicament I was in and decided to demonstrate how she was supposed to dance with me. As I took up the posture I held her close in. Left foot, right foot, left foot then BLAM… The trouble with the situation was quite a paradox of dancing conundrums. A guys solution to being turned on while dancing is commonly discussed, but how do you address the situation when roles are reversed?

I think that’s the day that dancing died for me… Until recently. It’s been so long I couldn’t tell you the difference between a promenade and an underhand turn… Part of the excitement of life is finding ways into the depths of other’s souls. Having sex is one way I know how… Can’t really have sex with every girl I meet right? So dancing is my alternative. Problem is, none seem to understand the purpose.

In a world of overly insecure guys hawking over every available girl and women with no understanding of self worth, there is something missing. Passion. In everything. You want to be good at something? Try… Trying… at least. You feel like making something? Put your soul into it and see what comes out. Maybe you want to accomplish a goal? How about learning how to make love to the notion that what you do with this life is completely in your hands. If someone comes along and wants to dance with you, fucking dance already. Say yes to experiencing something with no excuses. Nothing is permanent unless you choose it to be. When you find a fire inside yourself don’t let anyone extinguish it. That’s what I did and it sucks. I have some hope though. I’m seeing people for what they’re really worth to me and I feel better about going on this journey I’m about to embark on.