I suspect that I really ought to spend less time hanging out in these places. It does nothing for the ego, I can tell you. Seeing an endless stream of handsome men that you can’t have because your body fat percentage is unacceptably high (“You’re not fat,” my friends tell me. “You’re not gay,” I tell my friends.) is just plain twelve different kinds of damaging.
And I’m not a fool, you know: I know perfectly well it’s something I’m doing to myself. In my head I know that I shouldn’t want anything to do with a guy who’s only interested in how I look. But I’m hardly in a position to judge anyone, since my interest in them sorta stems from the same thing, doesn’t it? Yeah.
I had a kinda odd experience, though. I looked up from my journalizing and saw this guy pouring cream into his coffee, and had a strange sense of déjà vu, as though I’d seen him somewhere before. That was when I realized that this was a guy whose personal ad I’d seen, and even responded to, I think. But he’d never written me back – which, for those of you who don’t know it, is the online equivalent of walking up to a cutie in a bar and trying to chat him/her up only to have him/her turn his back on you without acknowledging your existence. I had a little bit of a seminal moment, too, ‘cuz I realized that the guy’s photo had been very flattering. So I’m not really sure how I should react: Should I be grateful that this nigh-unto-unattractive guy passed me over and saved me the trouble of avoiding him after our first date, or should I be worried that I’m not even attractive enough for the unattractive guys to wanna go out with?
I have a feeling it’s a question I shouldn’t ponder too much.
I’m in one of those moods where I think that all my problems could easily be solved by a really flattering haircut. What do you think?
This morning I had my first instance of having a friend tell me he was auditioning for something and thinking, “Why can’t I audition for that? Oh, wait, I’ve given up stage work for a while.” It was a little jarring, that realization. It most likely will be for a while. I think it’s at least partly so difficult because I haven’t really started the giving-up part yet. I’ve still got one show to do, and I don’t actually start my new job for another six weeks. I feel, as I’m suddenly realizing I have for much of my life, in limbo… waiting for something big to happen.
It’s distracting, this feeling that something big is around the corner. And I wonder now if it’s made me lazy, to a degree; thinking that something big was coming… making me seek something big less actively. If it’s coming, why do I need to work for it, right? I wonder if a lot of people feel this way? I wonder if a lot of people are possessed of the feeling that they’re destined for something different – something more. When did I become like the ennui-wrapped masses that I’ve always
Overheard at the McDonalds during lunch today:
Child: “Did you meet my new teacher?”
Gramma: “No, what’s her name?”
Child: “It’s not my job to keep track of my teachers’ names.”
I’ve been going back and going over my old non-cyber journal entries from a few years ago. Boy, there’s nothing like going back over old journal entries to make you feel like you’ve undergone absolutely no personal growth over the last three years. I find myself wrestling with the same questions that haunted me way back when. How does one stop being afraid? How does one overcome inaction? How does one stop focusing on one’s own insecurities long enough to effectively relate to others?
How do you do these things without turning to religion – which I think (at least in its organized sense) is the biggest scam ever perpetrated on the human race.
Unfortunately, I think I have to answer these other questions before I answer the question that burns most for me lately: Ho do I score with the hot young guys I keep seeing in Chelsea coffee shops?
I wonder sometimes if I use humor not to take myself too seriously, or if I use it to avoid taking myself seriously. There’s a big difference, I think.
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