Friday, March 28, 2008

How about a non-reunion

I recently saw an ad from Its slogan was: "Find Everyone from Your Past."

My gut reaction was: "Let's not."

I admit, I'm not a perfect person. And I haven't always made the best decisions, whether it comes to money, work, friends, or guys.

Okay what I'm really saying in a very roundabout way is that I've done some bad things in my life to other people, things I'm not proud of, things that I haven't really forgiven myself for. Once in a while, when my self-imposed amnesia buckles, I remember some of the individuals I haven't been the nicest to, and I feel a sense of dread in my stomach. I'm not sure if it's the guilt. Or the feeling of knowing that someone out there dislikes me, if not hates me.

Not that I flatter myself. I mean, people have dissed me, and I don't spend every waking second ruing the day I met them. But if I bumped into some of those people, some of those old feelings would certainly resurface, and I wouldn't exactly be very receptive to them.

The point of all this is that, in a month, I -- along with some friends and the Boyf -- will be visiting one of the cities I used to live in several years ago to attend an event.

My Boyf is not privy to the events of my past, specifically, the things I've done wrong. So it makes me slightly uncomfortable to know that I will be visiting this city with my Boyf, and run the risk of bumping into people who wouldn't exactly be receptive to me.

The Naysayer says I'm being paranoid. And yes, I am. But I guess it goes beyond just literally bumping into them. I guess one could say that I'm a bit haunted by my past. That I still haven't reconciled myself with my mistakes. I kind of just hope that after X years go by, the memories will be so distant that they'll all seem fuzzy, trivial, and trifling, relegated to the memories of playground fights or forgotten homework assignments.

Anyway, a reunion is the exact opposite of what I want on little my trip. I don't want to find anyone from my past. In fact, I would much prefer that I lose them. And my memories of them.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Human contact = Good

I just realized that, for over 36 hours, I haven't had any human contact with anyone outside of work or the Subway sandwich store. I was supposed to have lunch with a friend today, but she had to reschedule. I've been working late every night so I haven't been able to see friends or the boyf after work.

The reason I realized this suddenly was that I felt starkly disconnected. And irritable. And every comment or remark from work people just grated on my nerves a little more than it should.

How do the hermits do it?

While my furry pet at home is fully huggable and loveable, she still isn't a human I can connect with and banter with. (At least not yet).

So I called the boyf and made a "human-contact-call" -- versus a "booty call" -- just so I can talk to someone for twenty minutes who is not my boss or the Subway sandwich-maker-guy.

Like I said, how do the hermits do it?!

Tuesday, March 04, 2008


Focus on the things that matter.

Focus on the people who matter.

Do not focus on the things that do not matter.

Do not focus on the people who do not matter.

The rude receptionist who copped an attitude at you for no good reason, the long line at Walgreen's, the boss who likes to make snide remarks at you just to put you down, and the luke-warm coffee you just purchased all fall under the category of things and people who do not matter.

Your best friend who will be there no matter what happens, your cuddly face-licking dog, your favorite novel, and your unfailing mom all fall under the category of things and people who do matter.

These are the mantas I tell myself. These are the mantras I remind myself. Otherwise I risk forgetting what's important and dwelling instead on the things that aren't.


This picture of Hillary Rodham Clinton on kind of looks like my mom:

Obviously, the Caucasian version of my mom. It's kind of weird. I mean they have a similar facial structure, the same hairstyle and that same older-lady-laughing expression when they're laughing. They're also about the same age.

It almost makes me feel a bit more sympathetic towards her given that everyone is bashing her nowadays.


Monday, March 03, 2008

I've got three words

And it's an alliteration: Bitter Blue Balls.

Read below post I found on craigslist.

"What Happened to All the Nice Guys?"

Date: 2007-11-19, 3:52AM PST

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven't figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends." Besides, he totally wasn't your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn't know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you're single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've fucked yourself over. You're getting older, after all. It's time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't fucking want you, now.


A Recovering Nice Guy

Seriously? Okay, it's definitely sad when you like someone and someone doesn't like you back. Hello -- story of my life. It's a painful lesson we begin learning at age 12 and have repeatedly reinforced until the day we get hitched or die, which ever comes sooner. But seriously, this dude needs to get over it. His rant is dripping with bitterness and resentment, and instead of empowering him, his "I told you so"-rant makes him sound even more pathetic and insecure.

And seriously, a girl can't be friends with a guy and have emotional intimacy with him unless she "reciprocat[es], in kind, with physical intimacy"? What the f kind of bullshit is that? That basically translates to "You can't be friends with me unless you put out."

And, um, I find it hard to believe that a girl who had zero romantic interest in the guy but liked to shop and watch movies with him actually "laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion." Quite frankly, a girl wouldn't care to deign that much effort into "laughing" and "resenting" a guy she has zero interest in. But hey, if that's what this dude needs to tell himself to fuel his rage and get through day, then to each his own.

All I'm saying is, the dude needs to get a grip. At least on something other than what he evidently grips every Friday and Saturday night alone in his studio apartment.

. . .

P.S. - I like nice guys. I'm dating one. As people can read in my past posts, I've been dicked over by a number of lame-ass, socially retarded assholes. So I'm glad to be in a relationship with a guy who calls me regularly, opens the door for me, buys me roses, etc.

This post is not an indictment of nice guys. It is an indictment of guys with bitter blue balls.
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