Happiness intro (Darkly comic interpretation of friend zoning)

It Wasn't a Good Month...

I have no idea why there is this romantic attachment to summer. It has all the appeal of something torturous and unpleasant to me. Between the bugs, the heat, the humidity, the smells of baking garbage in open cans or horrific body odor on people, I just don't get the glamorizing of the season. Maybe I'm just old.

Anymore I think the majority of people I meet and sometimes befriend fall into the lyric written by Oscar winner Trent Reznor

"I'll be there for you/ as long as it works for me/ I play a game/ it's called insincerity"

In this past month I had a relationship take a couple of turns to the point it's not even worth continuing. I've been disappointed a number of times, both professionally and personally. It's gotten to the point where a place like Portland Oregon looks more appealing rather than being a place on a map.

Why can't things ever work out in predictability? It's one thing for you to anticipate the worst because that's all your accustomed to in some fields, but, in matters of the heart, it never gets any easier. I've had the proverbial heart pulled out, kicked, stomped on, etc and yet, with all the experience I've had where relationships die, or get "friend zoned" I've not gotten any stronger from it. It makes me more suspicious and nervous to put myself out there.

I could understand the function of having a high school reunion years ago before the advent of social media. There was one for my graduating class this past weekend which I didn't attend for a number of reasons. 1) I haven't done anything so significant in my life that warranted going to a group of people I shared a class of title with to show my accomplishment. 2) Several people I went to high school are still here in town locally. 3) I wasn't really close to too many of said classmates. I came in as a junior, and from the last school I attended, I had the majority of credits where I could just stuff my class schedules with electives that didn't tax the brain. 4) I have no connection with people my age. There isn't something I can relate to in their field. I haven't suffered divorce, no #Y spouse, no children or custody battles, No bankruptcy. Every trivial adult issue I hear about through life, I have no experience in. I can't even get a lady friend to join me in the reunion for a few hours. That's how sterling my life is. 5) Reunions seem archaic and redundant anymore any way. Everyone is on Facebook, or twitter if they're advanced. We post things and pictures daily, some people multiple times a day. I know more about some people's life by being Facebook friends with them than I know some people in my own family.

I know you shouldn't, but, sometimes I take great joy when a relationship goes south. Especially when it's been broadcast over my timeline. I'm awaiting the inevitable break up.

I can't think anymore. May put some stuff up tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

If I Could Be a Super Hero or Super Villain...

If I could be a super hero it would be the Flash. Come on, what's not to like? Moves faster than the speed of light, can vibrate through objects, a keen mind of science and look absolutely ripped in skin tight red with those canary yellow boots with that ridiculous tread. If I could be a villain, I would choose Ozymandias from the Watchmen. There are drawbacks in the character, mainly he's the cause of thousands of people dying and an overgrown giant space squid sitting in MSG, but, he accomplishes world peace in the process. He's rich, skilled, and handsome to boot.

How To Fake Like You're Nice and Caring

Earlier today, I came across a link on twitter to a news article written by Laurie Penny for the New Statesman. The subject of the article was in regards to a tumblr account about "nice guys of okcupid". On the account were screen shots of hypocrisy and genuine self loathing, with a good hearty dash of misogyny. All of this was pretty revealing, because, as the older I get the more and more I realize just inherently greedy and selfish men are as a whole, and how so much more difficult it is in being a woman.

I also looked at this bizarre phenomenon regarding online nice guys, or nice guys in general. I must admit that for years I had generally bunched all females into one category whilst in the throes of self pity as being callous, manipulative, cold, and other rather harsh and nasty adjectives thought because the small intimate design I drafted in my imagination didn't pan out into fruition. The outright rejection I felt was overshadowing the actual reasons in why that particular relationship didn't work, primarily the lack of self confidence in a mundane, boring, sterile day of lounging and conversing. It was never enough to just hear some doting verbal affection every so often. I needed the affirmation daily in some twisted thought, otherwise, I felt I was inferior, or growing slight in their eyes. After the relationship ended, as they are wont to do when one party is as emotionally stable as nitroglycerin, the immediate fallout was to first lash out at myself and then lash out at the now insignificant other in my life. My thoughts weighted so heavy in romanticism come crashing back to the reality of things from their lofty perch and as a result, I would go for months at a time without contacting anyone outside of immediate family and friends. The feelings hurt, spent in retreat among comfort things like movies or comics, while the mind was spending too much wasted time in a forensic pathology of analyzing and breaking down actions that led to the break up.

Something happened along the way that caused me to realign my perceptions and look at things from a different angle. Being a woman seems to be so much harder on a daily basis, given the sociological makeup as a whole where there's so many reminders of ideal beauty or what projected beauty and the endless advertising and maybe subsequent brainwashing women experience at a young age as to what they should become as an adult, rather than be happy with who they are. Inasmuch as I have issues living in my skin some days, it's probably doesn't even register in pressure to say my sister on a day to day basis. Things are even more skewered when as men, there's this inherent thinking of what to look for as an ideal woman. You aren't looking at women as actual persons, but rather an object. Most guys I know would be completely satisfied with a cypher who was completely compliant and showed no independent thought. Something that could be complimentary to them and every endeavour they pursued, no matter how hair brained or idiotic in the long term it could be.

This leads me to the phenomenon of said tumblr account, which exposes the facade of public niceties on the surface, to show the rotten underbelly of what the person is truly looking for. The compliments and seemingly innocuous front to lure a female in then reveals something more insidious and venal in message exchanges. As a nice guy, an inherently nice guy to a fault, I find this so distasteful. There are reasons women have so many defenses up when you speak to them, and for good reason. Coop-ting the label of nice, and then subverting it intentionally (But usually unintentionally in most cases) completely nullifies the term, making it a loaded definition when it comes to actual nice guys.

I think the key to solving this issue, and really to improve all interpersonal relationships with people regardless of their sex is 1) Treat them as a person, not a stereotype nor object. 2) Understand that your life experiences are not the end all be all which all other experiences are to be held against.

I would like to say I'm a nice guy who has a hard time coming to grips with some things in life, but, I'm trying. Maybe that's the best I can do.

An Open Letter To Myself (for future heartbreak)

Jeremy,

So, you're single again? Well, it's not like we didn't see this coming the second she showed an interest in you. Your life is comprised of moments where you engage in someone long enough to have them temporary swoon over you and then wake shortly there after and realize who they're with and decide it's best to cut ties and leave.

I know I know, the whole suddenness of it can be jarring and cause emotional tumult on your end, but, have you ever considered things on their end? Really, think about the endless hours you subject them to banal conversations regarding subjects they feign interest in when in reality they're doing something far better and more fun in their minds. No one likes talking about movies, excuse me film, incessantly, nor books, nor anything devoid of substance to the human condition.

You are shallow. You are surface. You meet someone who you like, and that's what their takeaway is going to be of you in the end. You are inconsequential. You have not effected any life you have come in contact with. On the contrary, you are largely forgotten by the majority of people or known as "that fat guy" or "lazy piece of shit" by those who know of you.

I realize that this is all pretty damning of me, but, you need to know this as you get older. You need to know that you're going to be alone in this world.  You will die alone in this world. There are no kids for your future.No woman in their right mind wants to spend more than 6 months tops with you. Look at your last relationship. You messed that up being all empathetic, caring, and attempting sympathy and all it got you was an half empty house and the flowers you purchased as a sign of affection sitting on top of the trash. That is the summary of your love life sir. A wilted bouquet of flowers on top of garbage.

Quit deluding yourself in thinking you're going to be happy. You're miserable and it reflects around to everyone you meet. That's why you don't get text messages daily. No one thinks of you often. That's why dates are postponed. No one wants to sit in a theater or a restaurant or any public place with you for any period of time. You're boring, banal, and quite frankly would do the world a service if you just disappeared.

It's called tough love and realism. Don't like it? I don't care. I'm angry you keep holding out hope that there is some woman out there designed specifically for you as your ideal mate. That's a childish notion. She doesn't exist. The best you can do is look for someone who is as equally tired and patient enough for your nonsense. You have to settle at some point, or pray you find someone desperate and not discerning.

Go get yourself a drink, and throw yourself into oncoming traffic,
yourself

Stranger in a Strange Land

I want to preface the following as to say I look back in hindsight with a degree of fondness to the town of LeRoy MN. I certainly didn't think that way when I was there at 14 years old. It was the complete opposite. I started the whole puberty thing later than most people my age, so there were the imminent mood swings, weird growth spurts, and some sort of mental disorder(arrested development) where I would be torn by doing the things I did when I was younger(i.e. watching cartoons in the afternoon, playing with action figures sometimes, re-enacting the greatest super bowl win with the then hapless Broncos), and then there's doing more adolescent things(i.e. Rebellion against parents, being more social to people my own age, developing skills like talking to women, or getting involved in car maintenance). I was truly a bizarre individual, regardless where I would have spent these formative years.(Reading Tom Harris Silence of the Lambs and Bret Easton Ellis American Psycho do not make you look mature at this age. You look really creepy) I tended to remain in the former, grasping at the increasingly passe things of childhood, as if things and people would adapt to me. Maybe it was because I was afraid to change and grow up.

Of course, the surroundings, however beautiful and tranquil, were completely alien to me. The weather was consistently nice to begin with. I was hoping as I started 9th grade, we would have a month's worth of snow days, because of the connection with the far north and winter. We only had one day where we missed any school, and this was because it was a complete whiteout in weather.

The second alien like quality of my new surroundings was the fact that this town was small and somewhat tight knit from all appearances. Everyone knew each other and their relatives sometimes three generations ago. I and my family were somewhat interlopers, because we were new. We spoke with a southern twang. There were other differences that you could spot immediately.

For example: all short words with "a" like bag was pronounced "bayg".

There was a term used "Uff Daa" which had 30+ definitions to it. You could never know if it was in excitement or was it an expletive. Depended on the speaker.

The stupid pun that everyone says "yah, sure". It was there, but not everyone said it.

So, take all these trivial things and then absorb it into your 14 year old thought process. It was bewildering and sometimes cruel. Especially High School.

But that will be later.

Fall 1989- The Importance Of Speaking

 There was one class I attended in the year of 1989 that was a very new experience to me. It as an Agriculture class, since this was a rural farming community, it was a required course at least one year and an elective for the remainder. The hallway walls were covered in trophy cases that stretched to the end of the corridor. While sports seemed to be a thing for folks to be passionate about, they really seemed to have a better percentage in winning titles in things like poultry judging, Ag mechanics, or soils.

My teacher was named Mr Schaufler. I had never met a cooler guy than this man in my relative young age. He seemed to be a preminent authority in all things mechanic and farming. He was very laid back to an extent. He would take these new freshman, and for the first quarter or so, we would go through the individual fields that were under the FFA banner. We would spend days sampling cheeses, for example, and there were some that could taste the differences in Cheddars by the very definition they memorized. It was very new and alien to me because though I hadn't been living in a teaming metropolis before this move, we certainly didn't have a lot of farming issues discussed in public restaurants, and it was absent from any family conversation.

Mr Schaufler had a keen eye for talent in certain fields. In one week, we went through a five paragraph statement that was the FFA creed. It was an outline of the groups goals and beliefs. I had an easier time retaining memory back then, so I was able to memorize this five paragraph creed and recite it in front of everyone. It was good enough for me to get enlisted into a district contest, where our chapter would send delegates for different contests to compete with other schools. If you placed first, you were an automatic bid to the state's final on the U of M campus. If you had gotten first there, it went to the national convention in Kansas City. The creed only leveled out on the state plateau, but I wasn't having visions of grandeur. I was concentrating for weeks before our contest, not on having all the words memorized, but little things Mr Schaufler had pointed out. Certain words in sentences needed some emphasis. You needed to have a passion in what you said, sell it like you truly mean it. It was meant to be inspiring for those that listened to it. The most important bit of advice was to study this creed, because there would be questions asked after you recite it. It's one thing to recite anything verbatim, but then to answer questions on said item can be daunting, particularly if you are unsure of the answer, or the context it was given.

We ended going out to some school I forgot where, maybe in nearby Austin for the days events. I waited patiently for my turn, as others had gone in every direction for their particular contests. Mr Schaufler assured me he thought I was going to do just fine, as long as I kept my head and my nerves in check. I went into a small speaking hall, where there were 3 judges sat at a long table. I walked up to the podium... and began talking. I was powerful where I needed, and subtle where it didn't look over dramatic. After wrapping up the creed, I stood awaiting a barrage of questions, for which I received a few, but they were simpler than I thought they would be, and I answered them as thorough as possible, trying to maintain this overall look I was just some simple kid from a farm in Mower county, instead of a transplant bumpkin from Butler county in S.E. Missouri.

The wait leading to the afternoon awards ceremony was arduous, and when you do something you are proud of, but you aren't entirely sold you have the contest won, your nerves start to work themselves over for a while. By the time we had gotten to this auditorium for awards, I was a borderline wreck, despite the assurances from Mr Schaufler as well as other kids that were in my class. The speaker had gotten to the creed contest, listing from 3rd on up to 1st, my heart racing a bit faster with a name that wasn't mine as 3rd, as 2nd. Panic for one brief moment when I realize the very good possibility that I haven't placed at all. I was a failure in public speaking.

And then for 1st, my name and school announced. I was in shock to say the least. I had really no confidence in myself, in talking to others, I thought I was going to be a lost cause, or shot in the dark at the very least. I was taken back at how things went, how easy it truly was for me to get up in front of complete strangers and just talk about the future of farming. I think to this day that my adviser Mr Schaufler had seen this potential in me for this one particular contest. He saw a good placement, if not 1st. He had been the adviser for the school for years, so he knew about winning and how to achieve it, simply because those trophies and plaques lining the halls to his room were won under his advisement. I ended up getting a ribbon which I thought was the coolest thing, because outside of writing short stories to entertain myself, I really didn't know of anything I was any good at. I began to find these things though as a student under Mr Schaufler's guidance. For that, I will be eternally grateful.