Showing posts with label SDSE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SDSE. Show all posts
20080623
Lay Off My Wife
As is the case with us all, I have a certain quantity of friends and family who seem to enjoy telling me what to do. Some of it is arrogance on their part, some of it is condescension, some of it is meant as honest advice. The particular flavor of advice I'm talking about here, though, is the kind where they just take it as a given that they are the wise, all-knowing ones, handing down life lessons to the unstable wild card kid. I can give you examples:
My co-worker, who is lower in the company than me, is drowning and debt, and constantly provokes the ire of his coworkers in a job he hates, regularly gives me advice on how to do my job, how I should take care of my expenses, and how to get along better with my coworkers.
My friend, who flunked out of college twice before scraping together a degree, and took a job in the bad part of town while living next to an escaped felon who the cops won't pick up because they don't really care who lives in his neighborhood, so he has to sleep with a gun at his door, gives me advice on working hard to succeed and making the right choices in life.
My relative, who is incredibly irritable, has a reputation for being abrasive, and is one of the most closed-minded people I've ever met, gives me advice on how to be popular and loved by people and talks down to me for being difficult and reactionary.
You can always tell the difference between people giving advice and people telling you what to do by how they react when you disagree. People giving you advice will either shrug, or concede the point, or alter their advice to fit your concerns. When you disagree with people telling you what to do, they repeat the same thing again, with an addendum that pooh-poohs what ever genuine concern you might have expressed. If they can't come up with some reason why you're just being naive and combatative, they just huff and say, "well, if you didn't want my 'advice,' you shouldn't have asked." Usually, I didn't ask.
Which is fine. I've met people before. I know how people work. Recently, however, they've pulled a new trick which genuinely pisses me off. Any time I try to rebuke their telling me what to do, or even question an aspect of it, they actually try (and I'm not kidding on this, several people have done this) to tell me that the advice is coming from my fiancee. These are people who have never even MET her.
Perhaps the advice is that I should put aside my money into a savings account. I respond that it makes more sense to pay off my credit cards, because the interest rate is 10x as high as the interest I would make by keeping the money. Their reply is, "well, I think your wife might like to know that you guys have a nest egg."
If the advice is that I should just bare down and keep my shitty job instead of trying to start a respectable career, and I point out that I'm at the glass ceiling in my shitty job, and it doesn't even use my skill set, their reply is, "well, what would your wife think about you planning on quitting your job?"
If the advice is even pertinent to my fiancee... for example, saying that we should spend $6000 on a big wedding in a nice church, and I reply that my fiancee is really shy and she would prefer a small wedding among family, they reply, "well, of course she'll say that to you, because she's trying to be supportive, but I'm sure that's not what she really wants."
Who the fuck do you people think you are? How dare you use the woman I love as a tool, a pawn for your own egotistical fucking needs. You know what? My fiancee wants me to pay off my debt. She wants me to find a new job. She INSISTS that we have a small wedding, even though I want something a little bigger and more involved. What if I were to start making judgements about your wife, based purely on my own selfish views? "Hey, you wanna go see this concert on Friday?" "No, I should stay home and put in some face time at home." "Well, I bet your wife would like to get you out of the house so she can go find someone who can appreciate her. After all, you only appear to see women as frail, nervous housewives from the fifties who just want a white wedding and bazillion children. In the meantime, your wife would probably like someone who has intelligent conversations with her, talks dirty to her, and... oh, I don't know, treats her like a human fucking being."
I'm not going to tell these people to respect their wives, though, because I'm not a presumptuous fucking prick. I stay out of their personal lives.
My co-worker, who is lower in the company than me, is drowning and debt, and constantly provokes the ire of his coworkers in a job he hates, regularly gives me advice on how to do my job, how I should take care of my expenses, and how to get along better with my coworkers.
My friend, who flunked out of college twice before scraping together a degree, and took a job in the bad part of town while living next to an escaped felon who the cops won't pick up because they don't really care who lives in his neighborhood, so he has to sleep with a gun at his door, gives me advice on working hard to succeed and making the right choices in life.
My relative, who is incredibly irritable, has a reputation for being abrasive, and is one of the most closed-minded people I've ever met, gives me advice on how to be popular and loved by people and talks down to me for being difficult and reactionary.
You can always tell the difference between people giving advice and people telling you what to do by how they react when you disagree. People giving you advice will either shrug, or concede the point, or alter their advice to fit your concerns. When you disagree with people telling you what to do, they repeat the same thing again, with an addendum that pooh-poohs what ever genuine concern you might have expressed. If they can't come up with some reason why you're just being naive and combatative, they just huff and say, "well, if you didn't want my 'advice,' you shouldn't have asked." Usually, I didn't ask.
Which is fine. I've met people before. I know how people work. Recently, however, they've pulled a new trick which genuinely pisses me off. Any time I try to rebuke their telling me what to do, or even question an aspect of it, they actually try (and I'm not kidding on this, several people have done this) to tell me that the advice is coming from my fiancee. These are people who have never even MET her.
Perhaps the advice is that I should put aside my money into a savings account. I respond that it makes more sense to pay off my credit cards, because the interest rate is 10x as high as the interest I would make by keeping the money. Their reply is, "well, I think your wife might like to know that you guys have a nest egg."
If the advice is that I should just bare down and keep my shitty job instead of trying to start a respectable career, and I point out that I'm at the glass ceiling in my shitty job, and it doesn't even use my skill set, their reply is, "well, what would your wife think about you planning on quitting your job?"
If the advice is even pertinent to my fiancee... for example, saying that we should spend $6000 on a big wedding in a nice church, and I reply that my fiancee is really shy and she would prefer a small wedding among family, they reply, "well, of course she'll say that to you, because she's trying to be supportive, but I'm sure that's not what she really wants."
Who the fuck do you people think you are? How dare you use the woman I love as a tool, a pawn for your own egotistical fucking needs. You know what? My fiancee wants me to pay off my debt. She wants me to find a new job. She INSISTS that we have a small wedding, even though I want something a little bigger and more involved. What if I were to start making judgements about your wife, based purely on my own selfish views? "Hey, you wanna go see this concert on Friday?" "No, I should stay home and put in some face time at home." "Well, I bet your wife would like to get you out of the house so she can go find someone who can appreciate her. After all, you only appear to see women as frail, nervous housewives from the fifties who just want a white wedding and bazillion children. In the meantime, your wife would probably like someone who has intelligent conversations with her, talks dirty to her, and... oh, I don't know, treats her like a human fucking being."
I'm not going to tell these people to respect their wives, though, because I'm not a presumptuous fucking prick. I stay out of their personal lives.
20080606
20080313
When to end your marriage
I just read online 9 signs that your spouse is cheating on you. This is on a serious divorce-support site. And they are:
- Your spouse isn’t in love with you anymore
- Your spouse is spending a lot of time with “a new friend”
- Your spouse starts hiding their emails, phone bills, and credit card bills from you
- Your spouse requests time alone, away from you
- Your spouse suddenly starts working late or putting in odd hours
- Your spouse spends large amounts of time on the computer, hangs out in chat rooms, and visits pornographic websites
- Your spouse suddenly hangs up the phone when you enter the room and is defensive if you ask about it
- Your spouse starts getting caught in lots of little lies and acts in ways that just don’t add up
- You think your spouse is cheating on you.
A couple things come to mind when I read this.
First off, maybe it’s just me, but if even one of these is true and you can’t figure out that your spouse is cheating without checking on the internet, your spouse deserves better.
Second, Marriages can survive infidelity. It happens all the time. That said, if more than one or two of these are true and your spouse isn’t cheating on you, hire a divorce lawyer. In other words, if my wife starts spending all her time looking at porn and telling me that she can’t come home at night anymore, she better have someone on the side— otherwise, it means that she’s so dissatisfied with me that she would rather spend her time looking at cheap jpegs and drinking alone than spending it with me.
Being lured away on some fling by some tall, dark, and handsome stranger I can understand; but if you just hate your significant other, call it a mulligan and move on.
20080219
fuck fuck fuck fuck
I feel as though no human has ever suffered a case of returning-to-work depression as I have today. I don't know if it's true or not. It caught me totally by surprise; I thought I was really looking forward to coming back. But I feel as though I've tasted a life more wonderful than I ever could have imagined, and was torn away from it abruptly and thrown straight into the pit of a sanitized, meaningless void.
I know I will feel fine after a couple weeks or so, but that doesn't even reassure me right now; once this feeling goes away, it will have been because I forgot the feeling of pure joy, that I have again become numb to the idea of a life with meaning, that the part of me that was awakened just two short weeks ago will have again died inside of me.
I want to hold onto this sadness as long as I can.
I know I will feel fine after a couple weeks or so, but that doesn't even reassure me right now; once this feeling goes away, it will have been because I forgot the feeling of pure joy, that I have again become numb to the idea of a life with meaning, that the part of me that was awakened just two short weeks ago will have again died inside of me.
I want to hold onto this sadness as long as I can.
20080114
Humility
Anyone listening in on a conversation between me and my counterpart would be nauseous, but not for the reasons you would usually think. Here's a conversation she and I have had:
Her: My grandmother's pressuring me to get married. She can't understand how someone as brilliant as me can be single.
Me: Well, I'm powerful and I have a razor-sharp wit, that should be good enough for her.
Her: Yeah, but I'm not sure that Russia will let someone as beautiful as me leave the country.
Me: Well, I have pretty incredible political savvy, I'm sure I'll be able to get you over here.
Her: Well, with as creative as you are, you shouldn't have any trouble figuring out what needs to be done.
Me: That's true, and it'll help that you're so immensely successful, so the U.S. will want to get you here.
Her: Good point.
The amazing thing is neither of us are being ironic. Anyone who has known me for an extended period of time would probably think something like "oh, God, there's two of them?" or "we've been trying for a decade not to encourage him..." There was a point in my life where I tried hiding my arrogance and putting myself out as an aw-shucks kind of guy, until I realized two things: first off, people want you to be humble because they think they're the shit, and they're put off by you implying that they aren't the greatest person in the world. Second, most of the things I take pride in, I wasn't born with. I didn't have any better sense of humor than anyone else at the age of six. My mom still says the biggest moment of my childhood for her wasn't when I learned to walk, or my first day of school, but when I actually told a joke that was funny. I didn't become a know-it-all by just making stuff up and talking people down, like a lot of people do- I became a know it all by reading, researching, and studying. It's an ongoing effort, too. This weekend, I realized I just didn't know that much about Mitt Romney. No reason why I should, right? But I want to know everything, so out I went researching him and reading up on him. I even checked out the book he wrote about the 2004 Olympics from the library.
My point is, why bother making myself a better person if I can't take credit for it? I don't talk other people down, and I don't shove it in people's faces if I'm better than them at something, but if there's something I believe I'm gifted in, I'm not afraid to show it. She's much the same way– she didn't get through med school by buying her way through or coming from a privileged family. She finds out something about plastic surgery, and without a second thought, away she goes, reading books and taking classes, until next thing you know she's grafting new eyelids on burn victims. She knows she has natural good looks, but she doesn't put in a wonderbra and 7-inch heels in an effort to mutate herself into a bimbo– she stays healthy, keeps in shape, and wears clothes that she knows look good on her. More importantly, she doesn't try to use her good looks as a way of getting what she wants. If she wants a promotion at work, she makes herself into a master surgeon, so they don't have any choice but to put her in the operating room. If she thinks she needs a better apartment, she doesn't just find some sugar daddy and move into his slave chambers, she works hard and puts in some extra hours, maybe goes to a couple conferences in Italy, so that they give her a raise so she can afford the place she wants.
Above all, if she wants a husband and a family, she doesn't just latch on to some doofus and nag him into not breaking up with her. She's too good for that. She's too smart, too beautiful, and too successful to put up with any guy who isn't just as intelligent and goal-driven, who will be latching onto her or expecting her to run the household. She demands someone with confidence and perserverance, someone who doesn't care what people might say about him, calling him obnoxious or unlikeable. She'll make those judgements for herself, and she'll only put up with someone she knows has a kind, devoted heart, will treat her with respect, and will allow her independence, if for no other reason because he's enjoying independence of his own.
You know, me.
Her: My grandmother's pressuring me to get married. She can't understand how someone as brilliant as me can be single.
Me: Well, I'm powerful and I have a razor-sharp wit, that should be good enough for her.
Her: Yeah, but I'm not sure that Russia will let someone as beautiful as me leave the country.
Me: Well, I have pretty incredible political savvy, I'm sure I'll be able to get you over here.
Her: Well, with as creative as you are, you shouldn't have any trouble figuring out what needs to be done.
Me: That's true, and it'll help that you're so immensely successful, so the U.S. will want to get you here.
Her: Good point.
The amazing thing is neither of us are being ironic. Anyone who has known me for an extended period of time would probably think something like "oh, God, there's two of them?" or "we've been trying for a decade not to encourage him..." There was a point in my life where I tried hiding my arrogance and putting myself out as an aw-shucks kind of guy, until I realized two things: first off, people want you to be humble because they think they're the shit, and they're put off by you implying that they aren't the greatest person in the world. Second, most of the things I take pride in, I wasn't born with. I didn't have any better sense of humor than anyone else at the age of six. My mom still says the biggest moment of my childhood for her wasn't when I learned to walk, or my first day of school, but when I actually told a joke that was funny. I didn't become a know-it-all by just making stuff up and talking people down, like a lot of people do- I became a know it all by reading, researching, and studying. It's an ongoing effort, too. This weekend, I realized I just didn't know that much about Mitt Romney. No reason why I should, right? But I want to know everything, so out I went researching him and reading up on him. I even checked out the book he wrote about the 2004 Olympics from the library.
My point is, why bother making myself a better person if I can't take credit for it? I don't talk other people down, and I don't shove it in people's faces if I'm better than them at something, but if there's something I believe I'm gifted in, I'm not afraid to show it. She's much the same way– she didn't get through med school by buying her way through or coming from a privileged family. She finds out something about plastic surgery, and without a second thought, away she goes, reading books and taking classes, until next thing you know she's grafting new eyelids on burn victims. She knows she has natural good looks, but she doesn't put in a wonderbra and 7-inch heels in an effort to mutate herself into a bimbo– she stays healthy, keeps in shape, and wears clothes that she knows look good on her. More importantly, she doesn't try to use her good looks as a way of getting what she wants. If she wants a promotion at work, she makes herself into a master surgeon, so they don't have any choice but to put her in the operating room. If she thinks she needs a better apartment, she doesn't just find some sugar daddy and move into his slave chambers, she works hard and puts in some extra hours, maybe goes to a couple conferences in Italy, so that they give her a raise so she can afford the place she wants.
Above all, if she wants a husband and a family, she doesn't just latch on to some doofus and nag him into not breaking up with her. She's too good for that. She's too smart, too beautiful, and too successful to put up with any guy who isn't just as intelligent and goal-driven, who will be latching onto her or expecting her to run the household. She demands someone with confidence and perserverance, someone who doesn't care what people might say about him, calling him obnoxious or unlikeable. She'll make those judgements for herself, and she'll only put up with someone she knows has a kind, devoted heart, will treat her with respect, and will allow her independence, if for no other reason because he's enjoying independence of his own.
You know, me.
20080102
Meet the Parents
Discussions have begun about asking her parents for her hand. Here, the big moment is giving her the ring; there, the big moment is asking her dad for permission. In the continuing effort to not talk about possible marriage out loud (even though we've both referenced it several times, we haven't *talked* about getting married, simply because we converse by email and phone and it's something we should discuss in person; plus, it's good to keep some element of surprise to the proposal), she has asked me about asking to take her to the U.S. and has offered to help me prepare the questions. I will be asking them for her hand in marriage, but she doesn't know that yet. I'm relieved that she has offered to help me with this, for many reasons: 1. it shows that she also is serious about the proposal; 2. she can help me figure out some of the nuances, like how I should address them, and what her mom's full name is; 3. since they don't speak English, she can help me make sure everything's grammatically correct so I don't sound too much like a foreigner.
Even though the ring isn't part of their tradition, it's a big part of mine, so I did buy her a ring (see left). I decided in advance exactly what I wanted the ring to look like, and I shopped until I found it– once I found it, I bought it. I wanted to get a continuous band, so there wasn't just one fat diamond sticking out of her finger like a bag of money on a string; I got three stones instead of one, since I wanted the ring to represent a great span of time, not just the day of the wedding; I bought one with a very simple, broad-stroked setting so there wouldn't be any decorations or frills to take attention away from the diamonds. I also got one thick enough so that a ruby and a topaz (our birthstones) can be set in the sides. Of course, since it's not part of her tradition, I am also preparing a bit of a speech (nothing formal, but again since it's not in English I need to think ahead) explaining the significance of an engagement ring in American culture, and the promise she would be making to me by taking it. If she does say yes, my New Year's resolution will go into effect: get her to Portland before I'm done paying off the ring. Fortunately (and unfortunately), that gives me plenty of time to make it happen.20071208
For That I owe
Oftentimes I will be hanging out with someone and they’ll just stop and sigh, lost in their thoughts. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Oh,” they say longingly, “this song. Cindy loves this song.” Or whoever their ex might be who ruined a perfectly good song.
Now, I have a litany of music that I own purely because an ex-girlfriend liked that band. I’ve even been sitting at work, toiling away, when a Beck song comes on, and I’d stop and listen, and I’d have to call up my girlfriend and tell her I love her. Just like anyone, I attach music to memories. Moreover, I have a plethora of songs I wrote about girls myself. Not much chance of detaching those songs from ex’s.
I even have songs that have been ruined by bad memories. “I am One” by Smashing Pumpkins is ruined for me– when I first bought Gish, I was playing a lot of this freeware video game some college dude made called “Billy goes Bowling,” which is basically like Shinobi but instead of throwing shiruken you throw a bowling ball. And you have a dog. And now, any time I hear that song, I just picture that stupid game.
But having a song ruined by a relationship? Never. The biggest reason is probably because I don’t really get hurt by breakups. I don’t get some complex that they don’t want me or that I’m worthless– if I were worthless, they wouldn’t have been with me in the first place. Nor do I feel like something is missing in me when I don’t have them as that song plays– I’ve never really been attracted to the kind of woman who dumps me. And I wouldn’t dump them unless I didn’t want to be with them anymore. There’s only one girl I feel empty without, and while I am without her, her old favorite songs only give me hope and inspiration that I will be with her again.
So, if anything, my ex-girlfriends’ favorite bands only enhance my life. So, to all the girls who have been kind enough to share part of their lives with me, I thank you. Not only for all the wonderful times we’ve shared, but for opening my eyes to bands like Green Day, Operation Ivy, Beatles, Blink-182, Manau, Plastelina Mosh, Sting, Clint Black, Moby, Beck, Soul Coughing, and Eve 6. They’re all perfectly fine artists in their own right, but every time I hear their songs, there’s a part of me that comes out, that you gave me, that makes it personal. For that I owe.
“Oh,” they say longingly, “this song. Cindy loves this song.” Or whoever their ex might be who ruined a perfectly good song.
Now, I have a litany of music that I own purely because an ex-girlfriend liked that band. I’ve even been sitting at work, toiling away, when a Beck song comes on, and I’d stop and listen, and I’d have to call up my girlfriend and tell her I love her. Just like anyone, I attach music to memories. Moreover, I have a plethora of songs I wrote about girls myself. Not much chance of detaching those songs from ex’s.
I even have songs that have been ruined by bad memories. “I am One” by Smashing Pumpkins is ruined for me– when I first bought Gish, I was playing a lot of this freeware video game some college dude made called “Billy goes Bowling,” which is basically like Shinobi but instead of throwing shiruken you throw a bowling ball. And you have a dog. And now, any time I hear that song, I just picture that stupid game.
But having a song ruined by a relationship? Never. The biggest reason is probably because I don’t really get hurt by breakups. I don’t get some complex that they don’t want me or that I’m worthless– if I were worthless, they wouldn’t have been with me in the first place. Nor do I feel like something is missing in me when I don’t have them as that song plays– I’ve never really been attracted to the kind of woman who dumps me. And I wouldn’t dump them unless I didn’t want to be with them anymore. There’s only one girl I feel empty without, and while I am without her, her old favorite songs only give me hope and inspiration that I will be with her again.
So, if anything, my ex-girlfriends’ favorite bands only enhance my life. So, to all the girls who have been kind enough to share part of their lives with me, I thank you. Not only for all the wonderful times we’ve shared, but for opening my eyes to bands like Green Day, Operation Ivy, Beatles, Blink-182, Manau, Plastelina Mosh, Sting, Clint Black, Moby, Beck, Soul Coughing, and Eve 6. They’re all perfectly fine artists in their own right, but every time I hear their songs, there’s a part of me that comes out, that you gave me, that makes it personal. For that I owe.
20071203
God Damnit
I want to get her an engagement ring. Every time I say "I'll just get her a nice topaz ring" or "I'll get her a promise ring for now" it just sounds wrong in my head. If ever there was a situation that warrants an engagement ring, ours would be it. It's supposed to be symbolic of commitment, right? It's the ultimate gift, something so wonderful that a man wouldn't buy it for the girl unless it were a once-in-a-lifetime occasion. And here I am, asking her to leave her home and family to be with me, and we're already discussing where we could live and where we would work, and I'm not even putting forth the dedication to get her a ring.
I know there are a lot of people who think it's "crazy" to be talking about getting a ring for someone I haven't seen in ten years, but that's what makes marrying her so important to me— she's not some girl that I just never broke up with so I got her a ring to shut her up. I have never wanted the typical life of finding someone who you're compatible enough with, and give her a wedding. I've long been skeptical of marriages because I haven't ever seen any indication that the betrothed were really interested in sacrificing everything, ending their lives as individuals and starting a new life as a single unit. That's what I want to do, and there's a whole ritual based around the symbolism of making sacrifice to tie two people together, and I need to do it.
I can't tell my parents, they'd go ballistic (my mom would, at least) if they knew I was planning on proposing to someone that doesn't even live here. Almost everyone I've asked about how they could afford the ring just said "my parents helped." That's no kind of sacrifice—that's tantamount to an arranged marriage. Buy me a woman, dad. Thanks.
Okay, I got that off my chest. I don't see how I can not buy her a ring. I know she'll say yes, but I have to show her that it's okay for her to take that step to leave her entire existence behind.
I know there are a lot of people who think it's "crazy" to be talking about getting a ring for someone I haven't seen in ten years, but that's what makes marrying her so important to me— she's not some girl that I just never broke up with so I got her a ring to shut her up. I have never wanted the typical life of finding someone who you're compatible enough with, and give her a wedding. I've long been skeptical of marriages because I haven't ever seen any indication that the betrothed were really interested in sacrificing everything, ending their lives as individuals and starting a new life as a single unit. That's what I want to do, and there's a whole ritual based around the symbolism of making sacrifice to tie two people together, and I need to do it.
I can't tell my parents, they'd go ballistic (my mom would, at least) if they knew I was planning on proposing to someone that doesn't even live here. Almost everyone I've asked about how they could afford the ring just said "my parents helped." That's no kind of sacrifice—that's tantamount to an arranged marriage. Buy me a woman, dad. Thanks.
Okay, I got that off my chest. I don't see how I can not buy her a ring. I know she'll say yes, but I have to show her that it's okay for her to take that step to leave her entire existence behind.
20071110
And he starts it off with a bang!
So, while perusing the web I find this page... it's a weblog, with all of two entries, one is the obligatory "hey, so I'm going to try this blogging thing" entry and then immediately afterward is some rant about his roommate, complete with an MS Paint depiction of her with a pitchfork and horns (actually, it really looks more like red kitty ears). So I think to myself, this guy is either cleverly ironic or a fucking tool. Since it was me, I just asked, and I said, "both!" So in order to make this nubile blog 33% less shitty, I'll put up a new post, this time with exciting revalations and introspections that show my subtly philiosophical side... of course, anyone who knows me realizes that I'm already the epitome of modern philosophic wit, so that wouldn't really excite them much, and anyone who doesn't know me couldn't give a shit. So, as a bonus, I will reveal a super duper secret about myself that they probably already know anyway or at least wouldn't be surprised by it, but I don't really broadcast it so it's still a good, prevalent point.
I should point out, then, the whole reason why I started this blog. "Don't you have MySpace?" Yes, I have MySpace, thank you. I have two MySpace pages, one for music and one for networking, but I am also aware that MySpace is primarily targeted towards self-absorbed, melodramatic 14 year-olds who haven't yet developed emotions like patience, relativism, or empathy, and with the help of the internet probably never will. I could just imagine using that as my rant-blog, only to have someone I know (Shitbag, for instance) actually read the thing. And since I'm not just a big barrel of negativity, I also have very cool things that happen in my life, like what I would like to share today, that I really don't want to be publicly known for what will reveal themselves as obvious reasons. So, that being said, I use blogger because NOBODY reads blogger unless they're specifically looking for something.
So, I'm single, by nearly every definition of the word. I'm not seeing anyone, there's no one in particular on the horizon... there are friends of mine that I'm sure I'd love to have something more serious happen with, but nothing I'd push or even aim for. Not because I'm not attracted to them, or I'm afraid of being rejected, but because, well, I'm essentially engaged. Yeah. So, there's that.
Given my history, I am sure that those who have known me for a long time would be dubious to my claim that my on-again, off-again relationship with Maria is finally reaching fruition. There are those who have gone so far as to suggest that she is fictional, or if not fictional, an old flame that I claim to still be in touch with, while in fact she's probably off living her own life, occasionally mentioning me in passing when someone finds an old picture of me in the bottom of her closet. It sounds suspicious from the outside. Sure, Rob, there's some girl in Russia who is just DYING to come over here and be with you, and not only that, she's not using you to get her green card and she won't just dump you once she's here to find a real man. To which I say... fuck you. :)
What the hell was I rambling about? Oh yeah. So, I'm still single. Technically. Maria and I aren't dating, we're not together, we're not even in the same country. We haven't seen each other in eleven years. We aren't sure if we'll even still have the flame when we meet again in February. She hasn't said yes to anything, and I've asked the questions, but in a very tentatively "what if" kind of scenario. Jesus, my blogs are long. Anyway, the catch is this– if everything goes as we hope, she could be here as soon as next September, with a rock on her finger and steadfast plans to be here with me for a long, long time. Tens of thousands of dollars would be invested into this, against significant obstacles, and we can't pull it off unless we really plan ahead. So, even though we aren't even back together yet, we've already set plans in action to get engaged, move in together in Portland, and start a new life. Plans are easier to cancel than to make.
But, until February, I'm still absolutely single. So the question is, am I on the dating scene? Is it cheating on Maria? I know what her answer would be, of course, and by that logic anything would be dishonest. I should point out, though, that I wouldn't do anything behind her back, that I've always told her I would tell her anything, and she has specifically said that she doesn't want to know (I told you she was smart). I told her that I would prefer to keep in the know about who she was seeing, though I encouraged her to see whoever she wants (no, not just to vindicate myself, because she's free to live her life, I don't own her), and she has honored that request by letting me know, for example, that she has recently been going out with her ex-fiance. So get it out of your mind that I'm another sleazebag guy trying to find a way to fuck whomever I want without my housewife finding out. It's the 21st century, the battle of the sexes has evolved.
But that leaves the question of the other girls I might go out on dates with. Do they need to know? Are they entitled to be warned if any possible relationship with them has a time limit? Should they be made aware that they have little to no chance of being a permanent soul mate? If so, when? A lot of people I've talked to have maintained that any relationship I get into, no matter how small, is ingenuine. I'm leading the girl on, and betraying Maria. The one piece of that argument that I agree with is this: If I were to tell the girl that there was someone else, and I had no intention of creating anything permanent with her, then she wouldn't invest herself in me. Therefore, if I purposefully avoid telling her about my situation to enable my own desires, any desires fulfilled by that means are unethical.
Be that as it may, a vast majority of us have been in relationships we knew weren't going to work. We're holding out for something better, we're hoping they'll change, we don't want to be alone, we love them so much as a friend that we're afraid of letting them down... the reasons are infinite, but when we make them, they all sound the same to the victim: "I don't want you." Yet we get into the relationship anyway. Why do we do it? All those reasons. Hell, I've started relationships by saying, "I don't see anything permanent between us. What say we have some fun and just see what happens?" Some would say that even that is dishonest, because I should know that women will hear whatever they want to hear and just expect that I'll come around later. I should know, they claim, that when I say that sort of thing, I'm just planting the seed so I can defend myself to my friends when I use the girl for my own purposes and dump her when I've gotten what I want. Aside from that line of logic being completely sexist, it implies that every man should go into a relationship with the presumption that the woman is irrational, self-centered, and hubby-hunting. In which case, why would a guy ever get into a relationship with anyone, ever? The propogation of the species requires me to believe either that a) women are inherently inferior and subservient to men, or b) women are capable of making their own decisions. I refuse to believe the former.
Anyway, I'm getting tired of writing. I think y'all have enough information at this point to make your own judgements. I'll add one last thing: yes, no matter what may happen over the next three months, I will go into any possible coed friendship, relationship, or one night stand knowing that I won't be getting into any serious romance with them. The two caveats are that I actually have a distinct deadline, and there's actually someone else out there. We all get into less-than-ideal relationships while we wait for that Perfect Someone to come along. The difference with me is, I know when she's getting here. I don't date hubby-hunters to begin with, so I don't see myself as taking advantage of some poor girl who thinks I'll lead her through her picket white gate. Nonetheless, is my only just course of action to stay in waiting for my princess to come?
P.S. If not, what are you doing Saturday?
I should point out, then, the whole reason why I started this blog. "Don't you have MySpace?" Yes, I have MySpace, thank you. I have two MySpace pages, one for music and one for networking, but I am also aware that MySpace is primarily targeted towards self-absorbed, melodramatic 14 year-olds who haven't yet developed emotions like patience, relativism, or empathy, and with the help of the internet probably never will. I could just imagine using that as my rant-blog, only to have someone I know (Shitbag, for instance) actually read the thing. And since I'm not just a big barrel of negativity, I also have very cool things that happen in my life, like what I would like to share today, that I really don't want to be publicly known for what will reveal themselves as obvious reasons. So, that being said, I use blogger because NOBODY reads blogger unless they're specifically looking for something.
So, I'm single, by nearly every definition of the word. I'm not seeing anyone, there's no one in particular on the horizon... there are friends of mine that I'm sure I'd love to have something more serious happen with, but nothing I'd push or even aim for. Not because I'm not attracted to them, or I'm afraid of being rejected, but because, well, I'm essentially engaged. Yeah. So, there's that.
Given my history, I am sure that those who have known me for a long time would be dubious to my claim that my on-again, off-again relationship with Maria is finally reaching fruition. There are those who have gone so far as to suggest that she is fictional, or if not fictional, an old flame that I claim to still be in touch with, while in fact she's probably off living her own life, occasionally mentioning me in passing when someone finds an old picture of me in the bottom of her closet. It sounds suspicious from the outside. Sure, Rob, there's some girl in Russia who is just DYING to come over here and be with you, and not only that, she's not using you to get her green card and she won't just dump you once she's here to find a real man. To which I say... fuck you. :)
What the hell was I rambling about? Oh yeah. So, I'm still single. Technically. Maria and I aren't dating, we're not together, we're not even in the same country. We haven't seen each other in eleven years. We aren't sure if we'll even still have the flame when we meet again in February. She hasn't said yes to anything, and I've asked the questions, but in a very tentatively "what if" kind of scenario. Jesus, my blogs are long. Anyway, the catch is this– if everything goes as we hope, she could be here as soon as next September, with a rock on her finger and steadfast plans to be here with me for a long, long time. Tens of thousands of dollars would be invested into this, against significant obstacles, and we can't pull it off unless we really plan ahead. So, even though we aren't even back together yet, we've already set plans in action to get engaged, move in together in Portland, and start a new life. Plans are easier to cancel than to make.
But, until February, I'm still absolutely single. So the question is, am I on the dating scene? Is it cheating on Maria? I know what her answer would be, of course, and by that logic anything would be dishonest. I should point out, though, that I wouldn't do anything behind her back, that I've always told her I would tell her anything, and she has specifically said that she doesn't want to know (I told you she was smart). I told her that I would prefer to keep in the know about who she was seeing, though I encouraged her to see whoever she wants (no, not just to vindicate myself, because she's free to live her life, I don't own her), and she has honored that request by letting me know, for example, that she has recently been going out with her ex-fiance. So get it out of your mind that I'm another sleazebag guy trying to find a way to fuck whomever I want without my housewife finding out. It's the 21st century, the battle of the sexes has evolved.
But that leaves the question of the other girls I might go out on dates with. Do they need to know? Are they entitled to be warned if any possible relationship with them has a time limit? Should they be made aware that they have little to no chance of being a permanent soul mate? If so, when? A lot of people I've talked to have maintained that any relationship I get into, no matter how small, is ingenuine. I'm leading the girl on, and betraying Maria. The one piece of that argument that I agree with is this: If I were to tell the girl that there was someone else, and I had no intention of creating anything permanent with her, then she wouldn't invest herself in me. Therefore, if I purposefully avoid telling her about my situation to enable my own desires, any desires fulfilled by that means are unethical.
Be that as it may, a vast majority of us have been in relationships we knew weren't going to work. We're holding out for something better, we're hoping they'll change, we don't want to be alone, we love them so much as a friend that we're afraid of letting them down... the reasons are infinite, but when we make them, they all sound the same to the victim: "I don't want you." Yet we get into the relationship anyway. Why do we do it? All those reasons. Hell, I've started relationships by saying, "I don't see anything permanent between us. What say we have some fun and just see what happens?" Some would say that even that is dishonest, because I should know that women will hear whatever they want to hear and just expect that I'll come around later. I should know, they claim, that when I say that sort of thing, I'm just planting the seed so I can defend myself to my friends when I use the girl for my own purposes and dump her when I've gotten what I want. Aside from that line of logic being completely sexist, it implies that every man should go into a relationship with the presumption that the woman is irrational, self-centered, and hubby-hunting. In which case, why would a guy ever get into a relationship with anyone, ever? The propogation of the species requires me to believe either that a) women are inherently inferior and subservient to men, or b) women are capable of making their own decisions. I refuse to believe the former.
Anyway, I'm getting tired of writing. I think y'all have enough information at this point to make your own judgements. I'll add one last thing: yes, no matter what may happen over the next three months, I will go into any possible coed friendship, relationship, or one night stand knowing that I won't be getting into any serious romance with them. The two caveats are that I actually have a distinct deadline, and there's actually someone else out there. We all get into less-than-ideal relationships while we wait for that Perfect Someone to come along. The difference with me is, I know when she's getting here. I don't date hubby-hunters to begin with, so I don't see myself as taking advantage of some poor girl who thinks I'll lead her through her picket white gate. Nonetheless, is my only just course of action to stay in waiting for my princess to come?
P.S. If not, what are you doing Saturday?
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