I did not get the chance (or the dubious honor) to go anywhere remotely fun to write today. Thusly, you're all going to get 21 minutes of me moaning while I'm sitting on my couch whilst half-blitzed on chocolate liqueurs that a shockingly wonderful human being gave me for Christmas. Much love.
I gots the issues ya'll. I feel like my entire life is just one big episode of "wash, rinse, repeat." Is it possible to have a midlife crisis when you're not even close to being in the middle of your life?
I don't really know the hell is going on with me lately. For a while, I thought I wanted a boyfriend. I screamed and yelled and took pills and threw phones at doors and spent a lot of time in clubs a few years ago in pursuit of this.
I'm not positive I want to go any further down that road right now. I can barely keep my own mess together on a daily basis, much less deal with any more drama. No amount of sex, however good, is worth that. Seriously, I forget to pay the rent half the time. If I didn't have auto-bill, I wouldn't have electricity or cable.
Plus, I have issues. The full subscription, plus Sunday supplements. Let me describe you them.
I've got this problem with men. (Don't we all sister, DON'T WE ALL?) I get bored with them very quickly. If they're not smart and funny and able to keep a conversation going, they're pretty much yesterday's news faster than the local fish wrapper. Give me 90 seconds and I'll judge you like Simon Cowell on crack. Unfortunate, but true.
My problem is that my taste in men runs to pretty - which usually means dumb as a post. There's a certain wall there that I keep hitting, like a crash test dummy. So I swore off men. Nice to look at, pretty to hold. Don't take it home, you're sleeping alone.
So I thought I'd get a dog. Which is an investment in the monetary and emotional senses. One of my dear friends agreed to let me do a test run by puppy-sitting her adorable little canine companion during Thanksgiving. I liked the dog, the dog generally liked me. It seemed like a fine idea at the time.
In the legion of bad decisions, this one was right up there with the time I tried to make Boy A jealous by telling him I was moving to Chile with Boy B. Just imagine how badly wrong that went.
Anyway. Little Cujo managed to ruin my Thanksgiving, kept me awake for five solid days with his version of puppy separation anxiety, clawed me in the face to tell me that IT WAS TIME FOR HIS BREAKFAST, peed on a new pair of pants and shed over anything that didn't move and most of the stuff that did.
MUCH TO MY CHAGRIN, I learned that this puppy also had the most overactive bladder known to canine-kind. There is no such thing as sleeping in if you have a dog. No. Cujo wanted to play and be entertained. Cujo also wanted to eat people food, going so far as to try to steal my Wendy's sandwich off the TV tray right in front of me.
That little stunt earned him a time-out locked in the bathroom. I didn't care how much his ass whined, I was pissed off and need a break before I simply beat him like a drum. That's why I will never have children - you can't beat them and you can't return them.
I learned something from my weekend with the puppy though.
I am far, far too selfish to get a dog or a boyfriend right now. There are currently three people in this relationship - ME, MYSELF and I. There ain't room for no more.
So I gots issues. I'm trying to come to terms with that. I sense that it is going to be a bumpy ride.
Is acknowledging that you're shallow and emotionally unavailable a sign that you're actually emotionally mature?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
My couch, 11:20 p.m. - My issues, let me show you them
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
I often feel like I'm just spinning my wheels, not going anywhere, name your metaphor. And I will be married for 23 years in 15 days.
There have been times when I've been so frustrated with women in general that I would wonder if I'd be better off if I swung the other way. From what you're saying, the answer is no. Sounds like what we gots is that beast called "the human condition."
I feel you. I'm 23, live with my Mom, working on another college degree I probably won't use. I constantly wonder if what I'm doing with my life will actually help me make a life...
I'm 37, single. You have to love yourself before you can deal with another person. There is way too much emphasis on sex in this society, and not good info on relationships (all kinds of books on 'how to find an ideal man', etc) but we've lost the connections for being able to meet people in a nice way, socially. Its all about the speed-dating, or the image.
I do think some of it is the human condition. But its also a frustrating time of year to be alone.
38, single, unattached, and loving it. Yes, there are disadvantages -- such as New Year's Eve, birthdays, V-Day, Christmas. But those are events. There are at least 350 real-life days a year, and there are advantages to being able to do what you want, when you want, and not have to report in to anybody.
And no, there is no sleeping in when you have a dog .... so sez the dog owner whose 100-pound baby got her up at 5:30 AM earlier this week just because.
Honey, I'm telling you now: if you want a man -- a smart, funny man, specifically -- you are in the wrong damn town for that. I know of what I speak (and you know I know it, too). My boyfriend lives 1000 miles away, that's how far away smart and funny is from where I am. And in your case, if you need smart,funny & non-straight? Better start looking at mile marker 1300 sweetie. Unless you like South Beach boys, and if you didn't know it already, there is nonesuch in Miami. You have smart (with issues) or you have funny (with issues). Not both, and never sane. I'm just sayin'. I'm not from the Wang State and I know my gay, and this town? You have my complete sympathy. Fo reals. You know where you can reach me if you're drunk and you need to commisserate. Even if I can't provide any solutions for you.
PS do you read dooce? If yes, it shows ;)
That's very....deep. How many of those cutsie little drinks did you have while typing this?
1) I don't read dooce. I find children in any way, shape or form to be like poison to me. Even the literary mention of children. I know people that swear by dooce. I think it is kind of boring. Plus, I don't think people talking about themselves is all that interesting, which is why I try not to do it all that often.
2. I knocked back about 12 chocolate liqueurs - in a variety of flavors. The Grand Marnier (sp?) ones are especially good. I could do without the Captain Morgan ones, but beggars are not meant to be choosers.
Post a Comment