2.06.02

Ohhhhh, what a week.

As I said last time, I have those New Orleans pictures for you. Some of you have already seen them, but some of you haven’t. Anyway, click here to go see them. This is only the first batch, with another three rolls to go at some point when I have money to get them developed.

Friday night I met some friends at a bar and we talked while drinking wheat beers. We talked a lot about us, who we were and why we were who we were. Confused yet? Let’s go through the major players:

I have one friend who is virtually married and has been since he was a junior in high school six years ago. He has the most screwed up family of us all – literally most of his relatives are drunk at any given moment and he only met his Dad a few years back – and yet he somehow has the most normal, well-balanced life of anyone I know. He’s known since he was a kid that he was going to be working in computers – surprise, he is working in computers. He was always a big guy, but then about two years ago just up and decided that he was going to lose some weight, and has now dropped about eighty pounds. He and his girlfriend are like best friends who will marry, have three adorable kids who are just like them, never have any kind of marital problems and live happily ever after. It just makes you sick.

The other guy is a tall, handsome young man who has a goofy charm that women seem to love…for about two dates and then they just stop calling. He’s had it rough with his parents getting divorced at a pivotal time in his teenage years and so he sees relationships as doomed to fail and, sadly, his seem to more often than not.

Me, on the other hand, on the surface I come from a pretty normal background – parents never got divorced, my friends called our family The Brady Bunch, but there were some skeletons in our closet. I’ve had some heartbreakage in the past, as well as struggling with my Mom’s death at a pretty pivotal time in my early twenties, and so I’ve had some issues to deal with as well. But now I feel like I’m past those things as much as possible, but maybe that’s just my opinion.

However, the main thing my friends had seen in me that was an enigma to them, was my total lack of need for a relationship with a woman. It doesn’t mean I’m gay – which I was glad they got that out of the whole thing, because I definitely am not gay – it’s just I don’t seem to pine for a date on Saturday night, instead being content with staying home and writing, watching a movie or reading a book - and on a really good night, all three. They said this was strange and they’d never really understood it, but at the same time they admired it as something they wished they could do themselves.

Obviously I know myself well enough to have thought of these observations before, so when my friend asked me why I was the way I am, I already knew my opinion of the situation:

“It’s because I grew up in virtual isolation on the farm. My Dad was in the field eight or nine months out of the year; my older sister was around a lot when I was really little, but then she was a teenager by the time I was five; my Mom was around, but she was busy helping Dad and running a household and, heck, she encouraged me to read, write, draw, and learn to keep myself busy. Her motto was always ‘Only boring people are bored’. And I eventually came to realize that I don’t need another person around to have fun, and I think this mentality has carried over into adulthood. Sure, I love women and I love to date women, but I know who I am well enough that I don’t need someone else there to reassure me of who I am and why I’m a worthy person.”

My friend shot back, “I disagree. I think you have all these interests to keep you busy so you won’t get hurt again.”

That phrase was bugging me all weekend. Yeah, I know I have some esteem issues and some fear of rejection – I admit that, but really, how do you work on something like that? At the same time, I’ve always had these interests, however, they have become more intense over the last year or so. I saw my growing intensity as a positive thing, though; that I was no longer just splashing my feet in the pond, but had gone ahead and jumped right in. And now, ironically, the thing I was running to hide inside is what’s bringing me out and making me feel better about myself.

You have no idea how good it feels to be able to say: No, I didn’t see last night’s episode of Friends; I stopped watching that show. Besides, I was at the office writing for three hours. No, I haven’t heard the latest from Puddle of Mud; I really don’t listen to that type of music anymore. Instead I’m listening to Miles Davis, arguably one of the most innovative musicians of the twentieth century. Is it because I’m an elitist? No! It’s because I feel alive and enthralled by my life rather than just waiting for the next episode of Just Shoot Me. I’m creating stories that, thus far, have gotten some praise. I’m listening to music that is complex, interesting and isn’t played on the radio for six months every hour on the hour. I’m reading unforgettable stories in books I would have never read while I was watching MTVX. I’m learning new art forms, even if it’s like ceramics and not exactly my thing, at least I’m not surfing for porn on the internet. I’m even considering – as soon as I can scrounge up the money – learning how to play an instrument that I’ve always wanted to play, rather than watching Howard Stern on E! Does this mean if you watched Friends last night that I think you’re less of a person? Hell no! It just means I’ve chosen to eliminate that part of my life in lieu of something I find more enjoyable. It’s as simple as that.

So while I’m doing all these things that are making me perfectly happy, should I be looking for a girlfriend instead? I think not. Ya know why? Someday I’m bound to meet a nice girl in my writing class. I’ll bet I meet some beautiful temptress who also loves the Aboriginal art at the St. Louis Art Museum. There’s a good chance I’ll run into a hot little number while attending a jazz concert. I swear to God I’m going to meet my wife in either the checkout line or the Philosophy section at Barnes and Noble.

The question isn’t “When am I going to get a girlfriend?” The question is, “Will I be confident enough to talk to her when I meet her?” Sadly, I can’t answer that question until the situation comes up. I hope so. We’ll see.

Space Monkey X