Somewhere New.
I’m about to embark on the first vacation to a new place for the first time in about five years.
I usually tend to go to the same places because I usually want to hangout with family or whatnot…but this this time I’m actually going somewhere different. I will spend time with Li, who just moved there a few months back. She is my last remaining single friend.
In college, we were a dynamic duo and BFFs. Then she had to go back to her homeland for a while and now she’s living in this place.
She expressed to me the other night over the phone that she is not ready to settle down. I don’t believe her. She’s one of those people that needs to be taken care of. She also believes in Prince Charming (seriously).
One of my married friends is going to join us as well (without the husband thank God..as much as I like the guy, he always seems to tag along whenever we get together).
This place is also the metropolitan area where MCC lives. *Sigh* I don’t even think about him much anymore, I’ve moved onto obsessing over Mr. Serious two years ago and most recently Golden Boy…amid sprinklings of some other guys from the past.
Ah, but I think my Golden Boy may be taken. He brought a girl to work a few weeks ago. I didn’t meet her, but a coworker did and thought she was his girlfriend. And he doesn’t have sisters. From what I heard, she hung out with him for his entire shift while he worked.
“You should snoop around,” said the Teenybopper. “Maybe it was a cousin or a [platonic] friend.”
Yeah right. It was a Friday night, who else could she be?
I think you know someone is in a serious relationship whenever they mention their girlfriend/boyfriend all the time during conversation. A lot of smitten guys tend to mention a particular special girl in every other sentence. I haven’t noticed this yet with Golden Boy, but then again, our conversations are brief at best and often limited to e-mail. His social networking profile still says he’s single.
Sometimes I get sad over this aspect of my life. I used to cry over it, but I don’t anymore. I cried a lot over it in college and a few years ago when I was going through a very depressive phase in my life. You can only cry so much over something before you run out of tears and get sick of dwelling on that emotion.
My friends would always say how there’s nothing wrong with me, but deep down I know something is and I’d like to fix it somehow (once I figure out what it is).
I’m hoping to see plenty of fetching eye candy in this vacation spot. Gorgeous men like MCC. I’m not looking for love on this trip or anything. I just want to admire and observe them. I don’t speak the language anyway (Li does thank goodness).
Who knows, maybe in that part of the world I’m actually considered appealing.
I Don’t Blame Her
One of my supervisors tends to talk a lot about how she’s sick of being single and how she wants to have more of “a life.” Now she’s talking about it more than ever before.
I don’t blame her.
She’s in her early 40s and often puts in 12+ hour days. As a manager, she constantly has to be on call 24/7. And trust me, people call her in the middle of the night about things at least once a week.
Being single bothers her and she talks about it now on a daily basis. She said today that she has spent too much of her life being “picky.” What she meant by that, I’m not exactly sure. Most people mean that in the context of physical appearance and maybe that is what she meant.
She deserves to find someone who will treat her with respect.
When I look at her I wonder if that is going to be me in 15 years or so. It’s not a bad thing, as she’s very well regarded and well connected in our line of work. In the end though, I really don’t want to devote so much time to something that doesn’t feel rewarding. We are in an industry that has high burnout and high layoffs (although that seems to be everywhere now) and low pay without any chance of a raise (the part I dislike the most). I don’t mind working hard, but I want feel rewarded…whether it’s more money or just feeling good about whatever it is that I do. Confident perhaps.
I keep finding that confidence seems to be the key to everything. Like if you’re confident, you can do anything or be anything you want. It seems like the key to happiness or fulfillment or success -however you define it.
I’ve already decided that I’m changing careers when I hit the big 3-0 because I’ll still be young enough to make such a change. What I’m going to do is the challenge. I need to figure that out…and I still have time to do that.
Anyways, I have a lot of respect for this supervisor and we get on well. She’s very open and chatty – to the point where she’s a bit of a gossip – a huge gossip. She’s got dirt on everyone. So you really have to be careful what you say to her, but she’s really good at getting the info out of you. Tricky. I’m sure she talks about me when I’m out of the room, but I’m not worried. I go in everyday and do the best I can, I help her from home sometimes, never give her attitude, listen well, take criticism well and haven’t shagged anybody from the office. If anything, she probably has told people that I come from a rich family and that my parents may still help financially support me (which they don’t..but I do have ‘expensive taste’).
It’s now come to the point where she’s so tired of being single that she’s talking about it all the time to just about anyone, whether it’s other people in our office or her contacts/friends outside the office.
It’s like she’s hinting for people to fix her up. I even think she asked the HR lady today (one of her many gossip contacts) to introduce her to someone, but I could be wrong.
I don’t blame her.
She once told me that she found it great how I don’t need to always have a guy on my arm to be happy. She then added how she’s the same way. But inside we both have that feeling that it’s hard trying to keep yourself going….and unlike her, I haven’t hit the point where I’m ready to openly admit it. I despise the word ‘lonely’ and don’t want to call it that.
I know I’m going to have to change somehow if I want to find a decent guy someday. I just haven’t hit that point yet. My supervisor has hit that point where she wants to find someone and today she pretty much announced that she’s going to be less ‘picky.,” which can be a great start.
——————–
And given the events of this week, I just HAD to throw in “Man in the Mirror”
A Very Funny, But Informative Video
Starring a young Mr. Rogers and a young Dorthy Zbornak…
Birthdays!
So I have a birthday coming up. Chances are I will be spending it by going to work and then going home to eat a pizza. Or perhaps treat myself out to a casual Mexican dinner somewhere. In my world, there’s nothing better than a delicious pizza washed down with a half bottle of red wine. Phone calls from my parents, aunts and friends will pepper that day. I love hearing from them. Usually, my parents will bake me my favorite type of cake or take me out to a nice dinner. But we live in different states now. A few years ago I was out of college and still living with them, depressed and feeling like I wasn’t going anywhere. I hate that feeling more than anything. I’m one of those people that needs to feel like she’s going somewhere. Anywhere, as long as it feels right. We got along great, but I was very unhappy. I felt like such a loser even though I had a great job then. Now I own a small home in a nice location. The area has a bit of a ritzy reputation and I can barely afford it, but my parents told me that it was a good investment and is worth having as opposed to renting.
In a perfect world I would have a hot/smart/nice boyfriend (around my age) to take me out to dinner. It doesn’t even need to be fancy place either, there’s lots of great cheap eats around. But I’m not going to throw a pity birthday party over this as tempting as it is. Instead, I am going to make some baked goods and share them with my awesome coworkers on my birthday. Most people try to slough off a birthday as no big deal, like it shouldn’t exist. I’ve always kind of been the opposite. Maybe when I’m older birthdays will be no biggie, but they still are a little special to me. It’s also a hint to my coworkers to be extra nice to me on that day. The Teenybopper and her husband will take me out to dinner and a movie that next weekend. I am more than happy for that. They are great friends.
Today I splurged on a pair of shoes at Nordstrom and caught a movie even though I couldn’t afford it. I can’t afford anything and can barely pay my bills.
**Cue Suze Orman yelling (I swear I hear her voice in my head everytime I purchase something)**
But I have a job and that’s something. I’m not screwed (yet). I was fortunate to get something on my car repaired today for free. My car is getting old and little things are beginning to break. Minor things luckily. My current career path does not pay well. I’m lucky to be salaried with health benefits, but my paychecks aren’t cutting it. Once the bills are paid, there’s hardly anything left for food or gas – and that’s where Mr. AmEx comes in. It sucks, but I know I’m doing better than most people. It would really suck if I had recurring health issues. But I’m healthy (YAY).
I made a promise to myself that if this career path doesn’t pan out for me by my 30th birthday, then I will change paths. Luckily, I still have a few years before this happens. I have some transferable skills and can always go back to school. Losing my virginity to a decent guy by 30 would be a nice goal, but I’d rather focus on my career/financial front. It’s one thing to make losing your virginity a goal by the end of high school or college, but it just seems dumb now to make it a goal by the time you hit 30. Being an older virgin isn’t as rare as I thought it would be as so many of you similar to me have stopped by and commented. There’s also the 105 year-old virgin, (possibly) Susan Boyle and (maybe) Kelly Clarkson. Let’s not forget nuns of centuries past who went from home to convent straight away.
Ah, but there’s still that stigma. Sex is part of being human, right? In an upcoming post I will discuss how I’ve managed to shock a gynecologist or two because of my virgin status. You’d think they’ve seen it all…
Running Into Mr. Serious
The other night I got to be a part of something amazing. I won’t say what it was, but it was something that I will never forget. There were hundreds of thousands of people there. And I run into someone whom I thought I’d never see again: a crush from a former job.
I haven’t seen him in over a year. This guy is certainly no Golden Boy. He’s a bit less cheery; the words brooding and serious tend to come to mind. He sometimes comes across as arrogant, a trait that normally doesn’t attract me. However, his arrogance is more kind than rude if that makes any sense. He’s like one of those unhappy intellectual guys. Like Golden Boy, he is consumed with his work, but his workaholic nature is a little different. Perhaps he is less passionate about his work than when he probably first embarked on his career. I recall him pulling a lot of all-nighters in the office as if it was something he really had to do in order to get things done. I think I will call this guy Mr. Serious. Yes, that’s probably the most fitting moniker for him. He’s very, very serious about his work and that is the only side of him that I’ve ever seen.
There were thousands of people during this historic evening. I was there for work reasons, as was he. When I saw him there looking sexy in Ray Bans, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t believe it was him! He looked great in his oh-so-serious kind of way. I didn’t know what to do at first and while I was gathering my thoughts on whether or not I should say hello, he was standing right next to me. I had to say something and I did. I called him by his name and introduced myself to refresh his memory. “Of course I remember you,” he said. I honestly wasn’t sure if he would recognize me as I hardly talked to him or to many people at that job. For a few minutes we chatted about what was new at our current jobs and the next thing I knew there was silence between us. The conversation probably lasted all of five minutes. It was just talk about work. Nothing else. At the end, I kind of felt disappointed. I’m probably nothing more to him than one of many former colleagues. I wish we could have talked about other things, but I guess there wasn’t anything. Maybe I’m just boring. I eventually had to get back to work and lost myself in the crowd. I didn’t want to distract him from his work either, but I also didn’t want to keep the conversation going by being one of those annoying women who just talks and talks and talks just to fill silence. All my life I’ve been told that I’m too quiet, yet there’s nothing more annoying to me than someone who doesn’t know how to shut up. A few hours later when it was time to leave, I saw him standing in the same place in his trademark cool manner. I yelled his name again and waved goodbye with a smile. I tried to smile a lot at him during our brief conversation, it was the best I could do. Perhaps I was saccharine and fake, but I can’t help but be overly sweet at times. I wanted to be as nice to him as possible; perhaps that is one of my problems…too nice.
I believe I mentioned briefly in an earlier post how I was at a job for a few months where I really didn’t do much of anything besides show up. I might as well have been an intern. But the worst part (besides the pay) were the people in this office. They were so miserable and ignored me much of the time. I felt like I was in high school. Misery was a disease in that office. Mr. Serious was decent to me, but not in a friendly I’m interested in you kind of way. I think I know why he has stayed there as long as he has. He has more responsibility and creative control over a product that he wouldn’t normally have at some other company. He’s smart and talented; and I complimented him numerous times on his work the other night. He thanked me for that, but it just didn’t seem to be enough.
After pulling a long night at the office after this event was over, I drove home at a weird hour – or an hour I’m not usually awake at. Nobody was on the road and I found myself listening to an AM radio station that plays a lot of Oldies music that doesn’t get much airplay anymore. Not a whole lot of people listen to this station, very few in fact… but I love it at times. I even get my mom hooked on it when she visits me. Some of the music is really good and some of its really…sappy. They played this Olivia Newton John song that I’ve probably heard only once or twice in my life. Then there was a Gladys Knight song that I don’t think I’ve ever heard before. Then came Tom Jones’“She’s A Lady,” which still does actually get some airplay. The station will play the older stuff, such as Frank Sinatra or Nat King Cole mixed with more modern ballad singers like Michael Buble and Celine Dion. Driving home with that station on at such a weird hour put me in a mood, not good or bad. More reflective than anything else. The station tends to have a weak signal in my car at night. I knew I was home after the static got to be too much.
That voice in my head.
Face the facts, nobody (decent) wants you or will ever want you. You are poison that drives them away; like death. You will never have a boyfriend because you are just too messed up or just plain ugly. Face the facts. Get used to it and move on.
That is what I often hear in my head, somewhere along those lines at least – not necessarily those exact words.
You know how there’s the angel and the devil that can represent your conscience. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that angel who represents positive thinking. I don’t know where it went or if it ever existed. I would like to find her. All I get is that same negative voice saying the italicized words above. That negative voice is cynical and looks like a beatnik in all black. Black turtleneck, black jeans, sometimes a black beret. I can’t tell whether she’s a blonde or brunette. But she is the part of me that rules my head. Not a nice person. Mockingly laughing all the time like she knows something I don’t.
Attitude is everything.
One of my best friends from college, whom I’ll call “Li,” just moved to a new city in a new country where she plans to stay for a good long time.
She is busy immersing herself in the language, the culture, her new apartment and getting set up workwise. She called me the other day and said how the guys there hit on her everywhere she goes – saying how they can help her improve on the language. She’s one that loves to talk and talk and talk. There’s nothing wrong with that, that’s just how she is. She would rather talk than listen. That’s probably most people. I always listen and provide a quick two cents while she talks and talks some more. I could probably put down my phone and walk out of the room and come back five minutes later and she would still be talking. I don’t mind it, a lot of my friends are this way – outgoing, friendly and very talkative. She’s the most out of all of them. I tend to be drawn to people like that. It’s almost as if their lives are more exciting than mine….like they’ve got more interesting things to contribute to a conversation – even if it can get a bit one-sided.
One of her favorite topics is men and how she can never figure them out, never finding any she likes, adding how she has to practically beat them off with a stick in this new city.
Somehow in the conversation I point out my own lack of relations (which she knows very well). I often like to joke with her that I’m a “paranoid American” that’s not very friendly. I can’t smile at strangers and if I do it’s like a forced half smirk. For some reason I have this fear that if I smile at the wrong person, something bad will happen. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s just how I am. I guess if I were truly paranoid, I wouldn’t have this blog because it is the most personal thing I’ve ever done. I tried having actual written diaries a few times and my hand would cramp up after penning a few pages (carpal tunnel anyone?). Plus, it sucked to correct any mistakes. It’s easy to take the computer keyboard for granted.
“You have attitude,” Li says to me in her accented English (English is not her first language).
“What do you mean?”
Then she mentions that word: “intimidating.” Me? Intimidating? That’s all wrong. A lot of those fame-seeking wannabe models on reality shows use that term to describe their reason for being single. I’m not one of them. Plus, I don’t walk around with an “I can kick your ass/I can do this better than you can/men suck” attitude. Technically, intimidating means something along the lines of “threatening.” How can I be threatening? I’m not hot, rich, powerful or physically tough enough to kick anybody’s ass. I’m not a towering presence that elicits fear like a football linebacker or a muscular cop. Plus, I don’t have a history or making threats or blackmail.
Here’s dictionary.com’s definition:
in⋅tim⋅i⋅date
/ɪnˈtɪmɪˌdeɪt/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [in-tim-i-deyt] Show IPA
–verb (used with object), -dat⋅ed, -dat⋅ing.
1. to make timid; fill with fear.
2. to overawe or cow, as through the force of personality or by superior display of wealth, talent, etc.
3. to force into or deter from some action by inducing fear: to intimidate a voter into staying away from the polls.
Origin:
1640–50; < ML intimidātus, ptp. of intimidāre to make afraid…..
(Had to toss in that mid-17th century origin reference, but I’ve never heard or seen the word ‘cow’ used as a verb)
Although Li is opposite of me in a lot of ways, one thing is clear: she shows her vulnerability; I don’t. If I am scared, I will never outwardly show it. I am calm in situations that may cause others to get nervous. Li is a kind and caring person, however she is also naive in certain ways and has been taken advantage of on occasion (luckily not raped). She’s not as cautious as me. She’s more trusting and can come across as an easy target. I am more like Fort Knox and hanging out with Li tends to bring out a more protective side of me. I think this is why a lot of men gravitate to her – they feel the need to protect and take care of her. I wouldn’t blame them.
“You are very put together…poised and calm….and that drives them away,” she said.
She kept using the term “put together.” Even *gasp* “confident,” which made no sense. I’m hardly confident at all, although I truly hope to be someday. Confidence seems to be the key to everything – from career success to romance.
One of my biggest fears is getting taken advantage of. This can mean anything from getting raped to getting conned moneywise. I always believed that if I don’t show fear or vulnerability, then my chances of getting taken advantage of will lessen. Sometimes shit happens, but for as long as I have remembered I’ve had to put this guard up. This shield can be fashion, hair and (my favorite) wearing sunglasses. I live in a sunny climate and wearing sunglasses everywhere is an easy habit for a lot of people. Plus, I can use the excuse how my lenses are prescription LOL. Eye contact is very hard for me. Some people I can look easily straight in the eye, but others I cannot.
Yep, I have more issues than a stack of magazines. We all have our issues and this blog is all about mine which have manifested in lack of dating relationships (or really anything close). This is a common problem though because more and more people are finding this site saying how they are in this same type of situation.
Numerous books and movies have been devoted to people who have trouble with love and dating, but I’ve yet to find any movies or published (book) stories similar to mine. There are millions of books out there. When will my story (or one similar to it) be told in the mainstream? I can’t be that much of a freak of nature as so many of you are reading this saying how you’re going through the same thing.
I went through a dark phase a few years ago and saw a real psych doctor once for it (prior to him I only saw therapists briefly). He said I didn’t need drugs and was very impressed by my firm handshake. I am proud of my handshake too. I believe you can tell a lot about a person by their handshake. I don’t like it when people give me a limp, lifeless shake or a really overaggressive one either. I’ve always wanted mine to be strong, but not too strong: firm and just right. Like of someone who wants to go places.
Old Roomie Ties The Knot
A roommate from college recently got married, according to an announcement from our alumni online newsletter. She married a guy who also went to school with us who seems vaguely familiar, but I can’t point my finger on how. I don’t ever recall talking to him. Her name brought back memories as I haven’t spoken to her in years. We weren’t exactly friends.
Like I’ve mentioned before, high school was a horrible experience for me and I couldn’t wait to move thousands of miles away to attend college and assume a new identity of sorts. Boy, did I count the days during that summer over eight years ago. I probably should have had a job, but for some reason didn’t. I sat around a lot at home and packed tons of crap I probably didn’t need for my dorm room.
During mid-Summer, I got a letter in the mail giving me the name and contact info of my soon-to-be freshman year roommate. I was hesitant to call her because I was very shy back then. My mother kind of forced me to contact her and ask if I should provide a fridge, microwave, TV, etc. I don’t remember what we talked about, the conversation was brief or at least unmemorable.
Move-in day finally approached in August and there was that sense of fear and excitement lumped together similar to that first day of school or camp. I don’t think I have felt that way since that day freshman year. It’s funny really. I’ve never felt that emotion during the other three years of college or even starting new jobs.
My freshman year dorm room was in an older brick building that’s over 100-years-old. It was like living in a large old house in dire need of remodeling. The communal bathrooms got gross fast and we had bug problems (luckily not cockroaches). It was a women-only dorm. Our room was considered one of the larger rooms in the building. When I first got there, the roommate already had her stuff moved in, but was out and about with her family. She had something like six siblings and everyone who checked me in kept saying how she had a large family.
My mom shed some tears when she hugged me goodbye that day. I was a little sad too, but not enough to cry. About an hour after that, I finally met my roommate. I remember trying to be friendly and asking her about herself, but I guess we never hit it off.
The roomie really loved the 1960s and 70s. She had an Earthy, retro style about her from the clothes to the books to the music to the posters. However, she wasn’t quite a hippie. Lots of stuff about Lennon, The Beatles, India and China. Almost every day, she wore a peasant blouse with a pair of jeans accompanied with her trademark glasses and bandana pulling her hair back. When my mom was moving stuff into our shared closet, she was impressed at how the girl didn’t have so many clothes. I was at the height of my shopoholic days then. In fact, I was quite the shopoholic throughout college. Looking back, I wonder if I had a problem. I had a huge rubbermaid box where I kept all of my shoes. And there were like 20+ pairs in there. The roommate only had something like two or three shoes for the entire year. Now, I avoid malls. If I go to one, it’s usually outdoor and never buy anything. Money is tight now and even if I did have it, I wouldn’t shop anywhere like I used to. I’m surprised my parents allowed me to have this habit. They should have made me get a job. Looking back, I probably appeared very materialistic. I wonder if I still am. Many of my classmates were scraping by on financial aid and small jobs while I was waltzing around in new clothes all the time.
Although we attended a small college and had a lot of classes together, we hardly talked to each other. We were both quiet types. I think we only conversed with each other at length about five times in that whole year. Most of that year was an awkward silence between us. She would stay up all night with the lights on and have her friends come over and watch movies in our room well into the early morning hours while I was trying to sleep. She never would address me in front of other people by my first name, she would just call me “her roommate.” I can’t sleep with all the lights and TV on, so I would crash in a friend’s room or on the couch in a community room in an adjacent dorm. I didn’t have the guts to kick her friends out and stop her late night movie parties. I never saw her with a guy. At the time, I was scared that she would be one of those roommates that would fuck her boyfriend while you’re trying to sleep. Lucky for me she wasn’t like that. She told everyone how weird I was and yelled at me for being in the room all the time. She really went crazy on me for digging through her CDs once and not asking. I felt bad, but totally lied about doing it. She did help me out once when there was this crazy person on campus who became obsessed with me and called all the time. She did help me muster the courage to rid of this person.
There was lots of roommate drama freshman year, I guess that’s normal, as many people I knew had roommates who transferred, moved out, fought, etc. We survived the year and hardly spoke to each other for the rest of college, except for the rare “hello” in the hallway. We had different sets of friends.
Now she’s married and no longer looks like Earth Mother. She looks great, no more oversized peasant shirts and bandanas hiding her hair. Her husband kind of looks like her. I get a kick out of couples who look alike. I’m happy for her. Aren’t I happy for them all? I can’t help but be a little jealous…just a little. I’m totally going to hell.
Is 26 the ideal age for getting married? It sure seems that way given all these people I know getting married. People I knew from high school and college all tying the knot.
I’m the bystander, not the bridesmaid, but the bystander. That unassuming person on the street who quietly watches…and waits. Yes, I need to proactive. Yes, I need to take charge. Grab the bull by the horns as they say (I’ve had bosses tell me this, how I would be the perfect employee if I was just that take charge kind of gal). Someday, when the time is right, I will be more like this. Or maybe I will never be. I’d have to really be motivated to change and right now I’m just not ready. In about 3.5 years, I will turn 30. And I’ve got this feeling that if I don’t do anything now, I will at 30. I will either proactively seek out single guys (around my age) or change my career or just invest in a good therapist. The therapist might be a good option if I decide to actively pursue men. Right now nothing is happening. I’m fortunate to have a job, but it just keeps eating more and more of my free time without extra compensation. I begin to wonder if it’s worth it. Or I can just keep doing what I’m doing pretending that everything is ok.
Are They Really As Happy As They Seem?
Sometimes it’s like the world is either black or white; us (singles) or them (couples).
Sometimes it seems as if they are everywhere — old, young, of various shapes, sizes and demographics.
When I see an old couple, I think “awww how cute.” Even when they argue for all to hear in the grocery store because they are so damn sick of each other.
Couples with kids I kind of ignore because that’s a reality I don’t really want.
It’s the young couples who catch my attention. The ones around my age. Many of them are good looking and compliment each other somehow, at least image-wise. Back when I lived in the big city, it seemed as if they were everywhere, because what better place to take a date than downtown in a cosmopolitan city? They would be dressed to kill on the way to some trendy restaurant or perhaps a gallery or show. I would marvel at that seemingly positive image of hot yuppie couple. I find it amazing how some of them look alike, while others look like opposites. I would often wish (and still do) that I could be a part of such an image, even if it’s just for one night.
Even here, far away from the big city, I still see lots of attractive young couples, but they are not as appealing as the big city ones. They lack a certain sophistication.
Looking at my high school and college classmates on the one social networking site I belong to, many of them are now coupled up or married. I would generally guess about 70% more or less, although this is just a vague guesstimation. Lots of them have their significant other in their profile pic, almost like a status symbol. Why have a Gucci bag when you can have a boyfriend or a husband?! Ok, that sounded bad, but really that’s what I’m feeling sometimes. Are they really in love or is it just for show? If they are married, the wedding pics are posted. If they are dating, just numerous pics of them hanging out about town or on vacation are up for all to see, or at least for all their online “friends” to see.
Are they really as happy as they seem?
That is what I always ask myself. I know these couples all have their issues. If they are married, about half of them will end up divorced. I know they aren’t content 100% of the time or maybe even 50% of the time. But why does this image seem so attractive? Even to a female loner such as myself? Is it because that’s what society shoves down our throats from the moment we are born?
I once brought this question up to my mother, who has been married to my father for over 30 years. She says it’s all a facade. She has told me numerous times how love is nothing but an emotion that comes and goes, but caring and friendship are vital things that can last much longer. There have been times when I thought my parents would get divorced. My mom has admitted to me that she has come very close to leaving my dad on a few occasions. However, they got through the rough patches and learned to coexist in their own way.
Weekends can be tough because I’m no longer focused on work and often see couples when I’m just hanging out somewhere outside the house.
Sometimes, I feel the need to apologize to my family for not being more well-rounded (i.e. in a couple). My mom would then reassure me and say she would be the same way if she were me. Like my mother, my father understands my cautious nature and once told other relatives over Christmas that I would never date just “any bum off the street.”
I could go to Craigslist right now and post some ad asking for a hook up. About a week after my birthday last year I posted an ad about myself and what I would be looking for in a guy on Craigslist just to see if I would gauge any kind of interest. I did not post a picture and felt I gave a quick, honest description about myself. My inbox was flooded with dozens of e-mails within one day (most wanting to meet up ASAP). I’ll discuss my Craigslist experience in another post. Hint: I didn’t meet anyone face to face.
I definitely get my independent nature from my mother’s side of the family. After my grandfather died, my grandma remained single and content (by all accounts) living alone until her death over 30 years later. She was dubbed “the lone wolf” of the family by her very outgoing, ultra-social older sister who is still alive today. I think I have assumed “the lone wolf” role in the family now.
As proud as I am about my independent nature, curiousity may get the best of me someday. I actually hope it does because I don’t want to die not knowing what it is like to be one of them.
But it’s got to be with someone I like; who my gut instinct says “yes” to.
To Do/Explore List
Recession, economy, housing collapse, credit crisis, stimulus, unemployment….
It seems like those are the most commonly used phrases everywhere these days. It’s all you read about and hear about. I am thankful to be employed and although I can barely pay my bills, at least I can pay them on time each and every month.
A coworker asked me today if I was moving back to the city where my family currently lives. I asked her who told her this rumor and she wouldn’t say. I wanted to laugh. I probably come off as some gal really missing her parents, but I assured her that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon (unless I get laid off first). I also mentioned that I would eventually make my way back to my family years from now when I’m much older, but not before living in one of two other places first (one abroad, the other on the East Coast). I probably fucked up at work by mentioning a couple of times that I didn’t want to exactly spend the rest of my life here. Watch that gossip trickle up to the bosses! Most of them are much older than me and are settled with kids, etc. They are fairly content with spending the rest of their lives here. I like it here too, but I feel that there’s so much more I need to be doing. I can’t help but dream. Being young, I might as well explore as many opportunities of interest to me as I can so I have no regrets.
These rough economic times have got me thinking, making a list of all the things I would like to do or at least explore in this life…and finding a way to make them happen…especially financially. That list is hanging on my refrigerator. It’s mainly living/working in one of those two cities, learning a new language, going to grad school, spending more time with certain relatives I don’t see very often (like my niece).
Funny enough, getting a boyfriend and losing my virginity isn’t on that list. Part of me says it probably should be. It’s something I want, but not badly enough. Not badly enough to make it a concrete goal. Once it becomes a concrete goal, I can go from there and take the possible steps to enter the world of dating (if there is such a place anymore).
