Oddly to say it, but it’s been a while since I made a post like this. If it’s not obvious, I tend to do a lot of my writing well in advance, and post them on a daily basis, to give off the impression that I’m churning out brog posts on a daily basis. I hate to kill the reality, but that’s not always entirely true. I still contend that I’m the most dedicated blogger I know as well as out there, since I’ve been doing this regularly for over twelve years now, but this is a little glimpse into the reality that is my own. I write pretty consistently on a daily basis, but there are stretches of time where I actually don’t have the time to write something, every single day.
Anyway, this is something I haven’t done in a while; a post where I’ve started writing with little or no real objective, and where I’ll actually hit “post” upon completion or when I don’t feel like writing anymore, and it will go up in at real of time as there ever is, instead of hitting “save as draft,” and saving it until Monday, because I tend to not really do much, if any, writing over the weekends, because I’m lazy like that, and frankly people don’t really use the internet on weekends aside from needs, sports scores, or Facebook; along those monotonous ways.
But since my weekend’s been derailed by a series of unfortunate circumstances, I’ve found myself at home this weekend, which I was hoping wasn’t going to happen. In a perfect world, I would have spent Saturday down in Savannah, a town I’m quite partial to despite not having gone to school down there (although I was accepted in high school), and caught the fifth and deciding game of the Sally League Championship, which of course is minor league baseball. But unfortunately, I was relying on a Washington Nationals affiliate to not be like their parent club, to not fuck it up, which they did, losing in Game 4 and thus negating the need for the fifth game. No fifth game, no real reason to go down to Savannah.
Plan B, which was originally Plan A until I had prioritized getting hammered while watching a minor league championship game over it, was a day trip out to Phoenix, Arizona, where I would visit Chase Field, where the Diamondbacks play, and cross off #25 out of the 30 Major League Baseball parks. This was a very appealing plan B, because of course, it’s #25, but there was also a bobblehead being given out, as well as the prospect of visiting Chompie’s, where I had one of the greatest foods I’d ever had in my life, in their Jewish Sliders. Unfortunately for me, which is so often the case with any sort of traveling how I travel, getting to my destination would not really be an issue, but coming back most definitely would.
Because Atlanta is the hub, 70% of the time, people end up in Atlanta regardless of where their final destination is. Getting to Phoenix would have been a breeze, but the red-eye flight I had envisioned being my fairly simple route back home’s passenger list kept creeping with additional passengers one at a time, to a point where it wouldn’t be realistically safe for me to attempt. Even if I missed out on the red-eye flight, the subsequent flights on Sunday all didn’t look so great either. Sure, I could have just embarked on somewhat of an adventure, but the last thing I really needed was to get stranded in Phoenix for multiple days.
So home I remain this weekend. It’s not the end of the world by any means, but I really had my hopes set on some sort of travel. I made another ridiculous salad, making sure to avoid the things I did the first time around that I didn’t like, or made it not so great, and I have thus far enjoyed it greatly. I watched a few college football games, which weren’t bad, and I caught up with some of the things on my DVR box, like Taken 2. And I did a few actual productive things, like trimming the bushes in front of my house, as well as ironed the litany of shirts that I had been avoiding, because I actually fucking hate ironing shirts.
So the weekend has actually been more productive than if I had jetsetted off to somewhere else to have fun.
It’s really late right now, but I don’t feel like sleeping just yet. I have a lot of little things swirling around in my head lately, which either means two things – I’m hinging on the edge of depression, or I’m feeling kind of ronery again.
The good news is that I’m not depressed right now. I don’t really have much reason to be depressed at the moment, although that’s always really a phone call away from a family member to remind me of just how tumultuous the relationships within my immediately family are currently, but I’m trying not to think about any of that so much lately.
But admittedly, I am feeling that ronery feeling again lately, although it’s not really affecting my mood. It’s just more the fact that I think I get bored easily, which might not be the case if I simply just had someone to do things with, all sex jokes aside. However, that’s not exactly what’s the impetus of me deciding to stay up and write a bunch of fluff in the first place.
It’s just, I suppose I think about myself from time to time, and think that I’d be a pretty decent guy to be in a relationship with. I think I treat people well, I’m respectful, and I’m fiercely loyal. I have a stable job, and a strong work ethic, and I’m physically active despite the fact that some might find it hard to tell by looking at me. And despite the fact that I lean hard on the crutch of self-deprecation (see prior sentence), I don’t think I’m really that bad looking of a guy. I know I’m capable of dressing well, and I make efforts to keep well-groomed, and clean on a regular basis. I think I’m thoughtful, and I know that I profile as somewhat of a doting kind of guy when around women, but that’s just my innate preference to always be the consummate gentleman.
All that being said, I think I’d be a fantastic catch to any girl who’d be willing to give me a shot. I can’t say all the great things I’d do, but I can say many things I wouldn’t do, like cheat, prioritize seemingly pointless things ahead without justification, or be some sort of a financial leech.
I had a conversation with a friend of mine a few weeks ago, who I suppose is in somewhat of the same boat I’m in, which I find surprising given his charming personality, but we talked about the whole “joke” about how women can smell the desperation on a guy, and how it’s capable of scaring them off.
While at Dragon*Con, I remember I was ditched by all the people I was hanging out with, because there was a “private party” they all wanted to go. I kind of stood there a little aloof, holding my drink wondering what to do next. I saw this girl who was wandering around, doing the whole “I’m looking for someone” thing, and I had noticed her a few minutes prior, when I was still with my company. I’m not blind, and I did notice her glance at me quite a few times. After I had been ditched, I saw her again, and this time I thought what the hell, and despite how uncharacteristic of me it, just striked up a conversation. She was all smiles and pleasant and she was cute, and I was sticking to the basics like asking for her name, if she were enjoying the convention, etc, etc, but man did that conversation not last long. She eventually re-affirmed the notion that she was “looking for her friends,” and vanished off. Admittedly, I felt a little dejected; I couldn’t even hold the attention of a single girl who was sneaking glances my way just earlier.
As much as I tell myself that I’m not desperate, sometimes I think I might be kidding myself. I’d love to have a girlfriend. But at the same time, I’m still unwilling to budge from my platform of not wanting to have to resort to the fucking internet to find a girl, because well I just don’t. That is not how I want the story of my love life to end up. I would rather the story start out with “we met when I saw her stealing glances at me and I sacked up and spoke to her… at DRAGON*CON” as opposed to the cyber-stalking nature of online dating.
(Speaking of stalking, I’d be fucking ecstatic to know that a girl were cyber-stalking me. Reading years and years of my brog posts, trying to decipher my personality while determining whether or not she could shape and fit into my laundry list of personal preferences. And working on a persona that I wouldn’t be able to resist when we would “coincidentally” meet one day, and have almost no problems getting into my wheelhouse.)
I’m kind of losing my train of thought because it’s close to 3 AM right now, so I don’t know how much more I’m really going to write, but one other thought I had is that I simply wish that “the game” weren’t so difficult for men. Don’t get me wrong, nothing is more exhilarating to me than the thrill of the hunt, the excitement felt when I’m actively chasing a girl that just might be into me as well, but is playing a little hard to get, but for a guy like me, the game seems to be really difficult. Either my standards are too high, I’m shooting for too high of stars, or I’m really that clueless to the tells and signs from a woman to know whether or not I should give up or solder on.
I don’t think I’m a desperate guy, but I still feel like I get the results of a desperate man. I feel that if I were a desperate man, I would be signed up on every single dating website out there, and I wouldn’t be hesitant to be a little too forward and direct with my interests in anonymous women over the internet.
But I suppose a lot of these feelings are just what a lot of people who are more or less just kind of lonely feel from time to time.
These feelings will obviously pass, likely with a good night’s sleep that the bed behind me is enticing me to have. But let’s not pass up the opportunity to churn out nearly 2,000 words of fluff when the urge strikes, because these feelings existed at some point, may as well get them out to remind myself of what my mind is capable of doing occasionally.
