Monday, September 20, 2010

Fuck it. Or: How to be awesome while trying

You will now notice a decided shift in tone. I'm owning it. All of it. Warts and all. I don't like playing it safe. I don't like the boring and humdrum. I don't want to play it safe. I don't want to not write because I'm afraid of...I don't even know what. It doesn't have a name or a face. The Smoke Monster? (No, I did not watch Lost. But I know my effing pop culture.)

Because the good stuff? The stuff that make the last blog even worth reading? Is best when I am at my fully snarky self. When I let you into my weird little world, with my insights and eviscerations. I feel like screaming THIS IS WHO I AM! TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT! BITCHES! This means no one, nothing, will be spared. Including Especially myself.

So first an apology: I'm sorry for holding back. That was silly of me. I owe more to anyone who cares to read to know the truth of it. Er, my version of the truth of it. And I owe it to myself to try and parse it all out, with words, which is what I do best.

Now: where have I been? What have I been doing? What, prey tell, have I been holding back on? There is (was?) a boy. And that preoccupied more of my brain and time than I care to admit. And I had feelings. I know, right? And I liked (like?) the boy. So I played it close to the vest. Or as close to the vest as someone who can't keep a secret to save her life can. All of you know to some extent or another about him and what his/our deal is. But I've had enough. Well...I've kinda sorta probably had enough?

I've been more patient and understanding than I ever thought I was capable of. But I'm starting to sort of think that was a mistake and maybe disingenuous to my true nature. Maybe, just maybe, that put me in the position to NOT be who I am. I was trying to be the awesome, totally amazing, non-girlfriend I thought I should be to then reach girlfriend status. And I don't LIKE being crazy and female. I hid that. With you guys. Pretty well, too, I might add. So mostly I acted the way I would want a guy to treat me. Which is awesome. (And I don't generally toot my own horn, believing in humility more than anything but come ON! I'm kinda awesome sometimes, right? Aside from the "Hey I'm not a super model" thing, I'm a pretty chill chick. Right?) I also have incredibly limited experience actually, ya know, DATING. Who dates? I know drunken hook ups and relationships. I know not how to date. And with the rise of the internet everything is a lot more in your face and explicit. You can know almost everything about a person pretty immediately. So I was in some seriously, for me, uncharted waters here , getting to know a stranger who I liked a lot and being in this amorphous non-relationship land.

Then today. Ah, today. Back up: last night was, despite intentions to the contrary, a booze and bad decisions night. (More on that later.) But I knew I had plans with the boy tonight. So I was pretty stoked. But not mentioning it because our plans had fallen through pretty much every other time we've tried to get together lately. And sho nuf, I get a text at 11 this morning. "Blah blah blah can't meet blah blah unfair to you blah blah I don't want to feel guilty blah blah just be friends." BBBBBLLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. Gut reaction? Hold the mother fucking phone, excuse me what? A) I don't need any freaking friends. I HAVE friends. I LOVE my friends. No, you are fulfilling an entirely different purpose. B) Guilt? That's on you because I have decidedly done everything to NOT make you feel guilty. That uber chill awesome chick thing? Yeah, I rocked it. C) Well, now I can go to New Orleans and screw every guy I come across and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

But I took a deep breath and consulted my oracle (Andy) and thought about what I wanted to say and ended up saying pretty much A&B while leaving out C and adding: I like whatever this is, whenever this is, so if you want to try at this, I'd like to do that. Besides which, I'm gone for the better part of the week so just marinate on it. And I got the response of "Okay. Let's meet when you get back." Whhaaa? Then what were the...aww, fuck it. Sure, sounds good.

Except then I got to ponderin', the way I do. And I thought, "Hmmm. Ya know. I shouldn't have to CONVINCE someone they want to spend time with me and that I'm awesome and 1 in a million (even if I'm not). They should just KNOW." So now that I've put "I'll be patient" out there I'm starting to think, "I don't want to be patient. I want someone to want to spend time with me and make that a priority when they can." So I went back to my oracle and spit that at it. While having the simultaneous thought, "I don't want to even think about this anymore. It's hurting my already fragile head." Which is what the oracle said. Adding, "I would go to New Orleans single-single." Yes. Decided.

And there, fine friends, is what has been taking up the better part of my brain. Now excuse me while I go pass out from sheer exhaustion. More on all of this tomorrow...

1 comment:

  1. I am SO GLAD you have come to this change in thinking. I definitely prefer no-holding-back-Lisa. You are completely capable of owning it all, and therefore you should be able to say whatever you want about your take on your life.

    I'm not going to comment on the boy. It's been up and down, and I've been in his corner and I've been hoping he gets hit by a train. I just want things to work out for you, even at the risk of you becoming deleriously happy and having nothing interesting to say. So if the boy resurfaces, and it's good, great. In the meantime: New Orleans. Ginger. Mission.