Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I say that because it may not be as obvious to everyone out there in interwebs land as it is to me.
Because to me, its REALLY apparent. I believe the sage and gracious Dane Cook once said that not being in love is like walking along a street in the rain, and everyone is at a party, and you're not invited.
It's in my face. All. The. Time.
All 3 of my lovely roommates are in relationships with great guys.
I'm friends with lots of married people who have it great.
Other friends are one half of couples that seem to have a good thing going for them.
But not me.
I can't help but feel like its everywhere I look.
And my friends are so supportive. They try to bolster me up when it gets rough. The encourage me, give me advice, or just hug me when I get drunk and despondant.
None of it helps. There's just nothing any of them can say. And that's not their fault- they're all dears who just want the best for me.
The most helpful thing came from my dear friend who just said, "I'm mad about it for you. It just doesn't make any sense."
Now, everyone says "stop looking". Less than helpful.
"Focus on YOU!" gets old after a while.
And the "try losing a few pounds" people can choke on a McDouble- that is, if I leave any left for them.
So you try. You try to focus on yourself. You try not to compare your life to those "taken" people around you. You try to have a good attitude because "Men don't like Women who need them." You fight off the cynicism. You resist despair.
But it gets hard.
Lately, I've been weak when resisting my "singlehood".
I've seen guys in my sphere who I thought were potential prospects act like utter morons. So it's not that you don't want to be shmoopy, its just not with ME. Gooooooooot it.
There are cracks in the veneer. There have been times that should have been perfect, but I can't help but notice that I still feel alone. My friends are amazing, and I fill my days with fun and exploration, but its not enough.
So I've been trying to be proactive. I firmly beleive in "stop bitching, start a revolution" so I've tried things to meet new people. I've taken up new hobbies that have exposed me to whole new universes of people. I've tried internet dating, just to see what it was all about.
And a few weeks ago, I signed up for speed dating.
It's really close to my house, and I figure "I can't whine about the problem if I'm not doing anything to fix it."
So I shelled out my $40. And shyly told a few friends. And picked out an outfit.
And the organization just emailed me to cancel it. No refunds. Oh- but I CAN reschedule for another speed dating event, and have a free voucher for a second one.
The reason: there weren't enough men.
I could have told you that.
Because its not hard enough as it is.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Monkeyskunk: The last one we saw was where the guy got stabbed in the heart with a joustinstick
whateverthefuck those are called
me: joustinstick = new angterm
Monkeyskunk: I knew what you meant
this would be utter jibberish to anyone but us
Also, (seemingly unrelated,) Game of Thrones is Awesome, Amirite?
Monday, May 16, 2011
And I'm losing my shit. See, every Pirates movie has come out on my birthday weekend, Memorial Day weekend, (the ONLY positive of a memdayweekend birthday,) and we all go in a group and see it. Usually with dinner. And home made tshirts. And probably a hat or two.
But this year, it snuck up on me and I'm FREAKING OUT.
I need more time!
And don't get me wrong, I was jealous as a eunuch at a chippendale's show that a friend of mine has ALREADY seen the film, (bitch.)
And yet, I feel like I didn't get to geek out about it enough! Sure, I followed Jerry Bruckheimer and the promotional account on Twitter. Yes, I watched all of the materials I could get my hands on ahead of time. Of course I talked myself out of getting gold caps on my teeth so I could be more like The Johnny.
But its too soon. This is in all likelihood the LAST new pirates movie! And I've fallen for it before! After "At World's End" I grieved like I needed to. Sure, I've carried the pain with me since, but damn it, I was functional.
And now, this?
Another taste? This is giving Black Tar Heroine to a recovering alcoholic.
I know I'm going to spiral.
I'll be tempted to stop showering.
And wear boots, even when its hot out.
Don't get me STARTED on my casual vocabulary.
I think the worst part of all will be the new daydreams. My mind hasn't left this universe that's part historical, part beach-bar, and part myth and lore. And now, this fourth installment will only add more fuel to the fire.
You know what, that's fine Capt Jack Sparrow.
Take all of me.
Your longing for adventure and hapless ability to pull anything off, especially when you don't deserve it has me charmed.
And you're hooks-down the sexiest character in fiction.
Leftenant Dempsey, of the Black Pearl, reporting for duty.
Weigh Anchor, lads, we're off.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
So which is it.
Is the universe designed for cynicism, or optimism?
Both messages are shoved down our throats; opposites.
We are, all of us, alone.
All you need is love.
No one else can make you happy.
Love is the answer.
Depend only on yourself for happiness.
Have faith in your dreams, and someday your rainbow will come shining through.
Which is it?
This talking out of both sides of your mouth shit is getting tiring.
If I’m supposed to stop hoping, that’s just fine.
Just tell me now so I can cut my expectations to a minimum.
There’s a romantic concept.
Become self-reliant, self-contained, self-tanned.
Don’t need anyone else.
Become an island.
Everyman is an island.
Everywoman is bottle floating around in the ocean, hoping to wash up on some lucky island’s deserted beach.
a desperate bottle full of a message no one will read the way it was written.
Do it for YOU, girlfriend. Screw guys.
Just join that gym for yourself.
Take some time.
Get to know yourself.
Focus on you.
They’re all assholes anyways.
All you need is love.
Whatever you put out into the universe is what you’ll get back.
Show your smile every chance you get, you never know who could be falling in love with it.
You’ll only know what it means to be complete when you have a family.
It’ll happen when you’re not looking.
Just stop looking.
It’ll happen when you least expect it.
read: don’t expect it.
So we have to choose the path of pessimism.
We have to pretend we DON’T want it.
It’s really the most masochistic mutation of the virgin/madonna complex.
Just wait patiently.
But not knowingly.
Be the unwilling chum next to your own sharkdiving cage.
Dress up for yourself and your girlfriends, but keep that bikini line waxed because you never know when your Prince Harming will stumble into your life, wanting a sandwich, and realize you always keep white bread and light mayo in stock.
Just like he always dreamed of.
No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.
The truth of the matter is that this is a lie. No one gets a fairytale. Not even everyone gets the decency of some fucking woodland creatures to braid her hair.
If you pick at the varnish, the fairy godmother starts to sound a bit like your mother who has a few ideas about what you’re doing wrong.
The mice get stuck on the trap-paper before they turn into steeds.
and the final bell in the clock-tower chimes, and all it means is that you’ve overslept your alarm.