Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Being a better person

I really enjoyed writing that last post, and I just watched Scrubs, which invariably puts me in an introspective mood, so I thought maybe I'd write another post. This isn't to say that I'll write ever again, but just one more can't hurt.

Often in my life I make major pronouncements. Such and such will never happen again. After today, it's all going to be different. I'm nervous, because I'm about to turn over a new leaf in my life.

Yet for all that I say those things, I almost never mean them. Not really. Oh, I mean them at the time, but 12 hours later, or, at maximum, a week later, I turn back into my regular old self.

I think that's why I was so proud the first time I finished writing a book. It took well over a year. The first fifteen pages alone took over six months. Yet somehow I managed to stick through everything else and finish the damned thing. It sucked, and I'm now going back and changing it so much that, except for a few surface details, it really can't be called the same story. Nevertheless, it was something I finished, and I was proud of that.

I sometimes wonder if it's really possible for any person to to really change much beyond their set point. Recovering alcoholics still exhibit alcoholic behaviors, even if those behaviors are channeled into less self-destructive areas. Those suffering from depression must forever deal with the possibility of falling back into their depressed states. The meticulous have a hard time letting going, and the relaxed have a difficult time attending to detail.

Every time I say it, it sounds corny, but it's simply impossible to escape the fact that I am who I am. I don't attend well to detail. I forget names easily and dates frequently. I have a hard time falling through on almost anything and may never have experienced or enjoyed experiencing routine in my entire life. I tend to stay up late for no reason and simply don't understand the tendency of people to arrive on early.

All of these are traits I really wish I didn't have. They have caused me no end of pain, making me difficult to work with, difficult to deal with, and and have probably put a large strain on quite a few of my friendships.

And every time I come to this realization, I think, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I shall change. Tomorrow I will be a better man. Tomorrow I will finally become the man I wish I was."

And, of course, tomorrow rolls along, and I'm not that man. I don't do yoga, or go jogging, or suddenly start studying for 8 hours at a go. I don't niggle at a problem until I've solved it. I don't wake up at 7AM and get straight to work after doing 20 pushups. Usually, when tomorrow rolls around, I'm the same guy then as I was yesterday and the day before that.

I love to start things. I love to get really excited about them and get others really excited about them. I love to write. I love to think and see beautiful things. I love my words to sound poetic or funny in such a natural way that you don't even realize you've read something interesting after the fact. I love imaginary rules that work, like the rule of three.

I could start something new every day, really get the ball rolling, hand it off to somebody, and then never think about it again, except in an "I wonder what ever happened to that?" kind of way.

As far as I can tell, my natural way of being makes me pretty useless to practically every industry in the world. And so, everyday, I get to wake up and struggle with myself to be a better person. Total suck, there.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

An attempt at reconcilliation

It's been about two years since I've posted to this blog, which, I believe, means it's probably safe to post here now. I'm guessing not many readers left, so it'll just be me and my thoughts. And maybe the occasional stranger who will have no idea who I am or why I'm writing.

It's funny how life often seems to come back around again to the same place. I noticed, a few days ago, that my life at the moment seems quite a bit like the life I had back in April of 2006. Except back then I was looking forward to a new life in law school. These days... who knows what I'm looking forward to. Re-taking the bar? Becoming a lawyer? Writing a book that most publishers will probably completely ignore?

It sucks to be stuck in the mire. It sucks to be at that point in life when you realize that most people don't realize their dreams, and you look to be yet another of the faceless masses.

None of that is why I'm writing today. I'm writing because this blog is called "how to get babes without even trying." Before I continue, I want to make clear that the title exists as a statement of irony. If you know me, you know I should be the last person you consult about getting a babe without trying. I have yet to accomplish the feat myself (except, possibly, in one unexpected and, in retrospect, fairly magical moment), so my suggestions are all based on humor, pop culture, various myths, and a whole lot of clap-trap. If you are willing to look back on my postings back in 2006, I can assure you that the train I was riding back then is the very same train I am riding today. It would be funny, if it weren't so shitty.

The blog was also intended as a joke. Reading a blog on how to get babes IS trying, so writing a blog about how to do so without trying is delightfully ironic.

Alright, now that my full disclosure is out of the way, let's get to the brass facts. (Is that the phrase?) There was this girl. In fact, there IS this girl. She's very much still around, just not so much around in my life. I had grown to quite like this girl, but, as is fairly common, she did not like me back.

And so I spent, quite literally, months trying to convince her otherwise, trying to get her to give me just a chance. But it never worked. It was the most open I've ever been with a woman over the course of any period. Oh, in the past I've laid it all on the line, but that only takes a few minutes. Usually, once it's all on the line, if she says no, I calmly walk away and then sit in a funk for a few days/weeks/months. Not this time. This time I didn't give up, and it didn't matter. No was always the answer.

I think this puts me, officially, out of ideas. I have none left. The only time I ever lucked out in my entire life I screwed up, and this girl is yet more proof that I am out of luck for, as far as I can tell, the rest of time. I am going to grow up and be that crazy snake guy I wrote about many moons ago. That guy is awesome, but I'd much rather know him than be him.

Enough of the whining. That also isn't why I'm writing today. I'm writing because I want to talk about this girl.

Let me take a second to tell you about her. If you know me, you know that I'm willing to spend a lot of time mooning over a girl, but very little time actively pursuing one. In fact, as I think back on it, the only other girl I've ever actively (key word being "actively") pursued was the now infamous Bosnian Babe, and with her there was a great deal of non-pursuit, so the young woman being discussed today is practically unique.

How is she unique? I'll tell you, but first let me point to all the ways she isn't unique at all.

First off, she's beautiful. There's nothing unique about that. She also happens to love her family, which, again, is not especially unique. Back in the days of MySpace, practically every girl "loved (her) family." She is a very compassionate girl, which is, once again, pretty mundane in the land of women. She is a social worker, which is, without question, an important and pretty amazing job in that she helps the young in ways I couldn't even begin to dream of doing, but I am an unusual person, and I happen to know a surprisingly large number of people who are social workers. So... once again, nothing especially new here.

Don't get me wrong, btw. When you roll all of these things into a bundle, she suddenly looks like the absolute cream of the crop. If she were also rich, I could have saved myself the trouble and walked the other way months ago.

The thing is, none of these things are a reason for me to be persistent. In fact, almost all of them are reasons for me to be too afraid to say anything ever and certainly too afraid to say anything after the initial rejection.

Which brings us to the unique thing.

I never once, not even today, felt like she was too good for me. That might sound like a put down, but let me assure you, it absolutely isn't. In my head, I realize that all the facts point to her being too good for me, but life is about more than a bunch of stupid facts. When I talked to her, I heard her actually listening, and when she talked to me, I did not feel overwhelmed. Our conversations were lively, interesting, and always dynamic. There was rarely, if ever, an uncomfortable pause. We danced together, and I never once felt awkward. If I sent her a note, I never once worried that she wouldn't respond because she felt better than me.

The roots of love lie in friendship, and I don't think I doubted our friendship from the first moment we started talking.

So that's the magic. That was the push that made go back over and over. A couple times she even asked me why I was still being so persistent. I never really had a good response, and I think that's because I didn't know. I hadn't sat down to consider why I was acting so much unlike myself.

In retrospect, it doesn't really feel like magic. "She's unique, because I'm not afraid of her"? Sounds more moronic than magic. Or, at least, it does until I take a second to remember that I am who I am. I am an introvert hiding in an extrovert's body. I am afraid of practically anyone and everyone. If you are like me, and you find a woman who makes your heart beat a little faster, while at the same time making you feel absolutely comfortable in yourself, you have to go after her. It's just how life must be.

About a week ago, the light conversation I'd been trying to maintain broke off. I don't remember who, either she or I, became serious and decided it was time to talk about our future.

She said she simply had no interest. I guess, as I think on it, I can't blame her. Even if she feels exactly the same way about our conversation and our ability to connect, none of that necessarily equates to anything approaching a relationship. All that is is the workings of a current and future good friendship, and it takes much more than that to make a deeper relationship work.

It takes qualities you respect. It takes qualities you find attractive in a mate. It takes an ocean to float a ship. Just because I happen to find her beautiful in mind, body, and personality, it doesn't mean that she has to find me vaguely attractive in any of those categories.

Plus, looking far, far into the future, I can practically guarantee that I will have very pudgy children. (This part is a joke.)

And so here we are today. The very reason she would like to be friends is one half of the reason I don't think we can be. Even if we tried it, I would find myself growing so comfortable and happy that I'd try to make it something she does not want, and then she would be forced to say no. I don't want to have to put her in that position, and I REALLY don't want to be told no over and over some more. (That's a moment of selfishness, right there.)

Which leads to now. Normally, I'd take this time to hope that we could still be friends, but I've pretty much ruled that out. I guess I can hope that in the future we can be friends, perhaps when she isn't so great or when I'm in a committed relationship that will make the pleasantness seem less important.

It sucks, but I think the best I can say, for right now, is that I hope we go our own ways on pleasant terms. I hope one or the other of us randomly connects back up, just to see how our lives are proceeding. I hope we remain facebook friends, so we can do that the easy way. I hope (also pretty selfishly) that she is at least somewhat as sad about all of this as I am. And, as much as it would suck for me, I hope that she remains as wonderful in the future as I think she is right now.