Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Too Little, Too Late

There’s a certain allure that I’ve always found in truly being indifferent. Even in the way it sounds: indifference. It’s harsh, hard and cold. And it’s real.

For most of us, the indifference stance is fervently adopted as a stoic response to negative experiences. We get shot down, so we don’t care anymore. We’re heartbroken, so fuck that noise. Kick rocks, bitch. We become emotionless, unaffected. Robots. Indifference just becomes a sad cover-up. And it usually is followed by the undeniable regret.

True indifference, however, stems from a quiet place. It’s not meant to act as a defense mechanism of any kind. On the contrary - it brings about closure and peace.

When I was younger, my mom once told me how being indifferent is the wisest way to deal with certain aspects of life. Indifference is worse than feeling “hate.” Gosh – hate. Really, mom? Hate carries as much heavy emotional artillery as its complete opposite. LOVE. And the two often are coupled together in our hearts and minds. We love to hate. We hate to love. Double whammy. But indifference will just stare you in the face. Indifference will not smile or wink at you. It will not scream at you or curse you out. It will just stare you blankly and calmly in the face. And there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.

Once all my emotions have been exhausted, I become indifferent. I’m stripped of all emotions. I no longer love, hate, care, fear, long, desire, want, lust, hunger, doubt, wonder, question, admire, assume, demand, or crave. I’m no longer happy, tender, excited, scared, sad or angry. I no longer experience: pride, pity, misery, regret, sorry, shock, horror, guilt, embarrassment, euphoria, despair, hope, envy, disappointment, contempt, or anxiety. YUP, even apathy.

I’m just fucking INDIFFERENT.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Best Thing I Never Had

It’s been over two weeks and I am still dumbfounded, looking for answers and justifications that I probably will never find. I’ve stipulated and have also probably exhausted a shitload of possible scenarios as to WHAT might have (caused this to) happen(ed). […]

To backtrack a bit: over a month ago, I jokingly signed up for an online dating site. No big deal; I really had absolutely ZERO expectations and my overall attitude was “I really just don’t give a fuck.” I mean, come on. Seriously. What the Internet has been able to do in terms of “dating” is open up a virtual portal for all freaks to pass themselves as being NORMAL. It totally served as a mild distraction/curiosity.

No more than two days in, I start messaging with a handsome dude from NYC. OK, very handsome dude from NYC (at least in my opinion, but I’m pretty sure in many others’ too). So I’d be a terrible liar to say that it wasn’t the picture of his gorgeous smile and chiseled face that got my attention. But anyway, it was really his profile that seriously intrigued me – aside from the pretty impeccable spelling/grammar, he sounded extremely honest and straight up, with a little bit of a “dick” attitude, but that’s how “extreme honesty” can come across, so I can dig it. I’d rather read that than an endless, boring enumeration of all amazing qualities and adjectives that most guys use to describe themselves – it’s like, really? If you’re SUCH a great catch, then why are on here? Nothing but a bunch of tools.

Getting back to Mr. Wonderful. I will call him Texas – the perfect pseudo-online boyfriend-name ever. (He was originally from Texas, where everything "is much more genuine than in the Northeast." Really, shitface?) So we start to message each other back and forth pretty heavily on the site, which was totally cool (mind you, I am totally NEW to this whole fucking online dating crap thing). Maybe one-two days in, having reached a decent level of “comfort,” if you may, his message reads something along the lines of:

Listen, I’ll be honest with you – on Saturday, I’m leaving to California for work for 3 weeks to a month – if you want, we can exchange phone numbers and what not, but if not that’s cool, if we’re still both available when I get back, I’d love to meet for drinks or something, if you’d want.

Of course, who am I to NOT want to cop digits because I am gangsta like that and, to make a really long and TERRIBLE story short, what ensues for the next FIVE weeks is what I call a full-blown insane textathon. No joke, I did a search on my Blackberry – close to 8000 (yes, eight thousand) incoming and outgoing text messages were exchanged (including picture messages), basically just covering an entire fucking array of topics of conversation, from sports, to food, to love, to family, to cars, to careers, to relationships, to… yup, LOTS of SEX talk.

Needless to say, we NEVER did meet. Yup, Texas disappeared (read: conveniently stopped answering my texts about 4 hours before out scheduled meeting) off the face of the earth. So, where am I today? Today, as I have been for the past two weeks, am left wondering just how this human being was able to waste my time (AND HIS) in such a way. I’m also left wondering how the fuck did I allow for THIS to happen.

I guess by “this” I am referring to some strange type of little emotional investment that I did have in this? The type of emotional investment I’d rather be trampled on my elephants on fire than admit to having. Sure, I can sit here and calmly claim that I invested only thumb muscle power (read: texting), but I’d be lying. Yup, yup, yup. I totally would be.

(Side note: I wish I had the time/energy or he'd be worth the effort of me typing out the random shit we'd talk about and ALL the stuff that I know about him; it's quite amusing just how much of HIS own time he wasted, but that really doesn't even fucking matter.)

I was honest, open, raw with my emotions, meaning I was in stupid high spirits and would genuinely smile and become so extremely happy to hear from him – to the point where it was just a crazy definite that we would meet and just hit it off in person as well as we did through texts. Not more than a few hours in a day would pass by that we wouldn’t be in contact. Major plans (baseball games, movies, dinner, taking me to Texas to see where he's from, even Vegas - yes, VEGAS, didn't believe it for a second and guess what? I ended up going to Vegas anyway with my girlfriends, and other blah blah blah ridiculous bullshit) were made (ALL initiated by HIM, mind you) that just built upon the excitement. There was a definite perfect blend of sarcasm, playfulness and seriousness. And stupid ex-girlfriend drama, of course. (I ended up receiving a “fake” message on the dating site from her, telling me “watch out” for him, that he is a nice buy, but just bad news. Should have listened? Ha! Seriously, I can’t think of anything more lame than that.)

He made my head spin, to be honest. In a good way, and in my eyes, he made himself seem like Mr. Perfect, yet he didn’t even know that he did. There were a few “offs” that I had picked up on, MAJOR offs I want to say, so perhaps I dodged a huge bullet, after all. Not for nothing, but he also wasn’t all shy talking about NOT being Mr. Perfect and about having a few character flaws: temper, double-standards, cockiness (but he swore he was just confident, and only a bit big-headed because of all he had accomplished and where he came from.) Hmmm, I think I’ll add a few more: a drunk (I swear, he went out and got drunk almost every night while in Cali – hence the drunken texts), a bit of a misogynist, a bit of a racist (yes, you're from Texas, I get it... NOT REALLY!) a bit of a complainer, a bona fide “EX” bad boy. Puh-lease.

Wait, wait. I think I’ll add some more: A coward COCKBAG who felt he was better than anyone else, whose stupid lines I believed and whose dick I hope will fall off from an unimaginable mix of chlymedia and gonorrhea caught from the next whore he fucks. (I’m so classy when I’m mad.) I hate his guts.

To give a taste of his originality, wisdom, wit, charm and overall douchbagginess, I’m posting one the longer messages we’d exchanged every so often:


“i'm bored and i hate facebook and i'm texting you and i have nothing to do and i wanna sleep and i don't wanna be sitting here... correction, i wish i was sleeping with you. ok correction, i wish i was getting it on with you. i know you appreciate my honesty so i figured i'd just go ahead and say it. and i have no idea why i'm writing this to you, i just have absolutely nothing better to do with my time. i wish you had an iphone so we could play words with friends, it's like scrabble, and so i could dominate you and plow your ass into the group because i'm awesome. (just so we don't get the wishes confused, i'd rather be getting it on than playing a scrabble-like game. so just incase a greater power decides to grant me a wish within the next 5 minutes, please take the one i prefer)......... not that i belive that would happen, i just had to be a smartass about it. anyway i'm still not sure why i'm writing this to you. it's 1:02 right now, i've decided that i'm going to get a mountain dew and vending machine cupcakes at 1:15 so you get to listen to me ramble until 1:15. which, i'll be surprised if you read all of this. actually who am i kidding, i know you will. and oh look you just texted me. apparently my degree sounds fancy? you're such a damn goofball, but eventually you're gonna be my goofball. ok, wait, i'll put it in perspective: i have to take you to dinner multiple times, have you make me dinner multiple times, have sex multiple times, and hope we click in person as well, then you'll be mine. phew, sounds like a tedious process..... just kidding, i can't wait. now it's 1:05. 10 minutes left of this ridiculous shit, where i don't even know what i'm saying or why i'm saying it. i can be kinda random sometimes. i really want a drink of that mountain dew right now. and my gum in my mouth is really dull. is it gross that i'll take your gum out of your mouth and chew it? actually idc if you think it's gross, i seriously do that... you just texted me again, interruption annoys me. so watch, i'm gonna be a dick purposely. it stands for master of science in integrated marketing communications. i feel bad right now for being mean for no reason but it's kinda funny, i'm just teasing i promise :) now it's 1:08 and i didn't accomplish shit in those 3 minutes, damn. ok, fuck 1:09. i promise i'll make the last 6 minutes great. especially because i want them to fly by, the anticipation of the mountain dew is making my mouth uh... hard? by 1:15 it'll be an orgasm in my mouth, can't wait. anyway enough of this random shit that i'm pulling out of my ass, i can't wait to see you, kiss you, carry you over my shoulder like a piece of nothin', and throw you up in the air and onto my bed, alright seriously i'll make sure you almost hit the ceiling before you come tumbling down, it'll probably scare you the first couple of times then you'll get used to it. kinda weird how i'm so crazy about a girl i've never met, better yet, i'm rarely ever crazy about girls, i have a hard time giving a fuck because most girls are just mental clusterfucks but i swear something about you makes me tick for you, i guess it can only get better in person huh? it's 1:12 now, text me back, i wonder you're sitting there like why the HELL is he so goddamn mad.... and you're probably reading this NOW thinking "i'm stupid, he was never mad" i told you i'm rude when i'm mad, but i'm not really being mean to you, i guess you should take notes for this so you can separate sincerity from jokes. 2 MINUTES UNTIL IT'S MOUNTAIN DEW TIME, you know the most fucked up part about this? i could go get a mountain dew and shit right now, but i just decided i was gonna write until 1:15, i like to stick to things. anyway you're cute, beautiful, and a lot of things that make me happy but it just turned 1:15 and i'm going to get my mountain dew. LATER BABE!”

ANYWAYS. My closure text can also be read below. It was my (second to last) attempt a few days later to reach him. I never did call him (his “phone speaker was busted”) and mind you, he worked for Apple Inc. And had a “jailbroken” (read: fancy) iPhone. (in his defense – I don’t know why – he did tell me this from the very beginning). Still. What kind of SHIT is that? Totally shady shit, if you ask me.

“So, this isn't a pathetic attempt to reach out to you because right now I truly feel you aren't worth my time, and while you might sit there on your big Texan king throne thinking how you're the shit because I have allowed someone who I never even MET get to me, I just wanna say fucked up shit because...well, I just feel like it and because I can and because I'm feeling extra bitchy today. To be real with you, I'm fucking honest even with my anger, which makes me laugh in a way, although my pride makes me wanna play my anger off cool and hide it? I honestly don't care how this makes me look, I don't care what you'll think, I honestly just don't give a fuck. You were almost too good to be true, so a big THANK YOU for instilling that in me--if something seems to be too good to be true, it probably is. You were like a good distraction and that's about it; I don't regret a thing and I'd fucking do it again in a second, I'd want to feel that excitement and that genuine feeling of happiness again and again because that's just ME--I'm fucking RAW and I don't give a fuck. I listened to ALL THE SHIT you had to say to me and it was all a fucking game, and yeah, I took it in and felt you genuine, and if hadn't done that, then what? I would have been in a better place? Whatever. Talk is cheap at the end of the day; that's what your words have been to me. So while this will sound like one hell of a cliche, I know that this was unfortunate how you played it out, you shady shot caller, and it's totally YOUR LOSS. So indirectly, another big THANK YOU--cuz I can't fucking wait to meet someone who'll have all your (fake?) positives and none of your fucked up shortcomings.”

Oh, the joys of ONLINE dating. Shit is really hilarious, I swear. And oh yeah, people are shady. Lesson learned!

On another note, these seem to be the trends I’ve picked up from online dating: (I’m currently using a different site; Texas and I both “deleted” our profiles on a good note we were, claiming that “we have each other” – vomit.)

- No one looks like his or her pictures.
- People you are interested in are usually not interested in you.
- People are too lazy to spell out full words, or no one can really spell/use proper grammar.
- If you’re excited about meeting someone, expect him or her to cancel last minute. (Or better yet, to just disappear.)
- If you’re not interested in someone, expect him or her to continue emailing you asking why you're not replying.
- Seems like everyone likes to take pictures of themselves in the bathroom, I hate self-taken shots anyways!
- wHy Do PeOpLe tYpE lIkE ThIs, OR IN ALL CAPS????

Things I don’t trust:

- People with only one photo posted.
- People with only self-taken pictures. What, no friends?
- Pictures from whacky angles or from 500ft away.
- The “Where's Waldo” pictures, where every picture is of the guy and 7 of his friends… Need I say more?
- Fake profiles! I can spot them from a mile away. That’s a whole new level of sad – congrats, assholes!