My Life: The Uneventful

Back when I had stuff going on, there was shit to blog about. Now? Not so much.

My life is a bit dull. Uneventful. I might even go so far as to say BORING. Sorry Diane. (Diane has a theory that using the B word brings all manner of havoc into your life.) The upside is that I'm not losing my mind. The downside is that I don't have anything to blog about, except how boring my life is.

I go to work, I come home, work out, read/watchTV/play Scramble, and go to bed. Just writing that made me yawn. 

Perhaps I'll try to scare up something to write about. Hopefully I can do this without landing myself in jail. It's not a happy place to be. There's MRSA there.

My life as a bougainvillea

Outside of my parents' house they have a Demon Plant. Well, that's what I call it. In real life, it's a bougainvillea. It looks pretty, sometimes, but that's only so that it can lure you close to it and KILL you. It has all these nasty thorns on it, and they are THICK. They will go through the bottom of your shoe and into your foot if you're not watching where you walk. I hate the fucking thing.

My parents and I have recently attacked ours. We got sick of walking near it and having it reach out and snag us. It may have had some death going on with pieces of it as well. We hacked it to death. There's about nothing left of it, and I couldn't be happier.

Here's the problem. We can cut it down and cut it back as much as we want, but there's a MASSIVE root system underground. After a hurricane, they tried to flush it out and dig it up, but to no avail. No matter what they do, they can't get the damn thing gone.

I realized the other day that there are some things in my life that are like that fucking bougainvillea. I was having dinner with a friend the other night and we were talking about the last woman he dated. I asked why he stopped seeing her, and at first he didn't want to tell me because it was superficial. I have no idea how he thought he was going to get away with that. I forced him into telling me and he said it was because she'd gained a few pounds. Not 2 or 3, but something closer to 20. (I think he probably has no idea how much she gained.)

I had an IMMEDIATE reaction to this. I stayed calm and inquired about the reason for the weight gain and we moved on with the conversation. But for a couple days after that, I struggled with my desire to chat with him. I started wondering why it is that he spends any time with me since I'm not some skinny little thing and then I thought, well shit, he canNOT possibly think I'm attractive. And while that may be true, I certainly don't want to have it thrust in my face.

After I stepped away from it for a minute and thought about it. It's not my place to find fault with what someone else finds attractive. He may not like chunkier women, but I don't tend to find super skinny men attractive. And the reality is that all of that can fall by the wayside when you actually get to know someone. They become more attractive when you get to know and like their personalities.

If he'd said he stopped dating her because she was too short, I probably wouldn't have had any reaction to it at all because that's NEVER been an issue for me. But because weight's a trigger for me, it stings when someone calls it out.

I've come really far with accepting my body image and acknowledging that I'm more than just my weight. But no matter how far I've come with it, the little things just pop into my head. Sometimes I can hear my mom saying, "You'll never get an attractive man to marry you unless you lose weight," and I completely regress.

One day, I will figure out how to dig out those nasty little ideas. I will get to the root system and completely eradicate it. Until then, I'll just chop the hell out of the bougainvillea out front.

Paralyzed

Sometimes in life there are things we want so badly we can feel them physically. I don't think there are that many things we want that much. If there were, we wouldn't remember them the way we do.

I tend to believe that things happen in their own time and if they're supposed to happen. As much as I want something to happen (getting that job and staying in Seattle, for example), it doesn't always. I generally trust that if it doesn't happen, it's for the better.

But the waiting is agony. I'm your classic over-thinker. (Yes, that may have been a bit of an understatement.) I go back and forth, round and round, trying to look at everything from every angle, and trying to determine with some kind of certainty what's going to happen. No, I never really feel like I have success with that. Still, like the dog determined to get through that sliding glass door, I continue running at the door full steam until my head hurts so much I can't take it. I just KNOW there's going to be some kind of breakthrough if I keep at it.

I start strong, but after a while, I start to second guess myself. I wonder if I should be doing something differently. If I should be acting instead of just waiting. I believe that if I'm supposed to act, I'll get some kind of cue to move from the universe. A little voice will scream, "Action" in my ear and then I'll jump into the scene. But what if I don't?

Really, I want things to just happen. Like magic. You know, TA DA! And off we go.

Of course, if you've seen The Illusionist or The Prestige (both great movies), you know that every magic act is rehearsed until it's perfected and it's not really magic at all (at least like we want to believe it is). Nothing just HAPPENS. Someone has to do some work to get it there.

And that brings us to where I am right now. Is something supposed to happen? And if it is supposed to happen, am I the one who's supposed to be making things happen?  If it is on me, do I have it in me to do it? Can I overcome whatever insecurities, fears, and doubts I have to make it happen? Will I irrevocably screw things up if I push it and it isn't supposed to be? Can I live with that? Can I live with not doing something and just leaving things as they are?

So I haven't made a decision. But, by not making a decision, I'm making a decision. Ain't that a bitch?

Touchy Feely

It's been brought to my attention recently that I don't talk much about MY feelings. When I was first told this, my reaction was, "Seriously?? I am ALWAYS talking about my feelings." But when I got to thinking about it, I realized that it's not true.

In truth, I HATE talking about my feelings. I want other people to talk about their feelings to me. I talk about other people's feelings. But my own? No thanks, I'll pass.

I wondered if I just don't have feelings, but that doesn't seem right. I'm sure I do. Right?

A while ago, I made it my mission to tell people how they enrich my life and that I love them. I don't think we do that enough (I'm sure I've said that here before) and I know how much of a difference it makes to me when someone tells me that they care about me. I've also seen people have very positive reactions when I do reach out.

Even still, I'm not always great about it. And telling people I care about them is the extent of it. I don't know what happens to the rest of the feelings I have. Whatever it is that happens, I don't really process it in any way that I can appreciate it.

Someone also pointed out that when I'm interested in a guy, I never talk about how he makes me feel, it's always about how I make him feel. I know why I do the latter. I need reassurance that he really does feel that way. It's never the guy I'm interested in that I'm talking to about his feelings, it's MY friends who will of course reassure me of his feelings for me. Going to the guy himself would be way too traumatic for me to do.

But, the more important thing to pay attention to is that I treat my feelings like they don't matter. I sort of let everything get swept under the "I'm so into him!" rug. Even when the guy's a dick. I was totally all about a guy even though I KNEW that I couldn't count on him for shit. The dumb ass told me that I should at least give him a chance to prove he wasn't a fuck up, and when I did give him a chance, he totally screwed me and I was left to find a ride to the airport at 4am for a 7am flight. Gee, thanks.

Sometimes it's that the feelings are just super scary. It's like if I don't admit them, they don't really exist, and I won't get hurt. That "logic" is total crap and when people try to act that way, I call them on their bullshit and kick their asses into line. Of course, most of life is easier said than done.

In the Disney movie Hercules, Meg sings a song called "I Won't Say (I'm in Love)." The whole song is about how she won't say she's in love with Hercules when it's really obvious that she is completely in love with him. I can't fault the girl for trying it. It feels so much safer that way.

Of course, a safe life is a lonely life. At some point, you HAVE to break out of your shell. Even if I somehow manage to start dating someone without breaking out, he won't stay with me if I don't open up to him. It's not really a relationship that way. I wouldn't want him to be that way with me.

I still haven't really decided whether I'll choose safe and lonely or open and out there. I was chatting with a friend the other day, and as I was telling him about someone, he responded with, "you are like love of your life in love with this guy." Even if it's true, at this point, I'm totally not saying it.