Sunday, October 30, 2011


I’ve never been one for girlfriends.  In fact, I find the term to be an oxymoron.  Most women take every immediate chance they have to rip me a new one.  In fact, I will be completely honest.  Most women scare me.
That aside, I have always admired these woman clubs other people seem to be in.  They call them their ‘girlfriends’, I prefer the term cult.  Regardless, I am in awe of them.  It would be fantastic for me to be in a position where a girl liked me enough to defend me and emotionally support me or whatever they do.  Truthfully I haven’t figured out what they do because my only real woman reference is Sex in the City, and I have a feeling that is relatively unrealistic considering I am pretty sure no one can live in NY as a writer and afford designer shoes (but really that’s only the beginning of the discrepancies).
So … I went out to dinner with a girl.  Not just any girl, a girl who seemed to think I was really cool (or at least I think so).  We got to talking, and I casually steered the conversation into subjects that I constantly hear brought up amongst girlfriends….  So things I more or less had to bullshit my way through, such as boys and make up.  I know nothing really about them seeing as my closest thing to a healthy relationship is a one way love connection via the internet and chapstick as an all-purpose make up product.  I don’t think you’ll be surprised when I say that after this, things went downhill… 
I bought fake eye-lashes, which I somehow found a way to casually bring into the conversation resulting in the desired results: an ecstatic ‘oh wow really?!’.  I was so sure I was in, right then and there.  I suddenly felt like I had earned my uterus.  We then talked about where I had bought them, when I was going to wear them, and she asked if I could put hers on for Halloween, and I said ‘Yah girl of course!’.
WHAT??  Why would I say that?  What on earth possessed me to think that I in any way should be allowed that close to someone’s face to do anything that is considered a girly skill?  I felt an immediate sensation of pure dread and anxiety. You know that saying “you’ll poke somebody’s eye out”?  I am pretty sure I am about to be an example of that, and I think doing so may disqualify me from this women’s club.
I have spent the majority of today frantically searching through wikihow and youtube for answers to my eyelash dilemma.  After extensive research into the eyelash process, my solution is to explain that I don’t have my glasses and wouldn’t want to make her look stupid, thus as the considerate girlfriend I am, will be unable to fulfill her request for fake eyelashes.  I think this will work.
Being a girlfriend, not nearly as easy as they make it out to be on Sex in the City.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Being emotionally available is too mainstream.

Being emotionally unavailable.  Now that's where it's at.

You've all seen the movies where some handsome man or beautiful woman who is clearly far out of your league, or maybe not as you're also an actor/ress in this scenario, rips you from your shell of 'reservedness', and shows you that love can really be worth it.  Right?  It's the basic story line for any sap who wants to imagine it can happen to them.  They call themselves hopeless romantics..  I say romantic is a little strong.

I had my movie scene moment.  I met someone on a train and then found them again on the internet only to proceed with a weekend fling.  It was 'You've Got Mail' circa 2011.  But where is my happy ending?  Why didn't I come out of this movie moment weekend with this sudden deeper understanding of myself and what it means to be in love?  Oh yes.  Because I am emotionally unavailable and completely lack the ability to express myself in any way, shape, or form, when I am enamoured with some unlucky victim the opposite sex.

The therapists that I don't have, but stalk online, always write things about being able to change if you're open to it.  I think the problem is basically that I am not open to it.  In fact, I am deeply against it.  I hate this feeling.  I hate feeling wide open to anyone.  I would rather have my mug collection smashed while I watch kneeling on the floor in tears before I would let myself be subject to what most people call 'romance'.

People always tell me how you know you're in love when you can't stop thinking of them... your heart begins pounding heavily when they talk back..  you feel butterflies in your tummy when they compliment you...  This is what this sounds like to me:  Subject is describing obsessive behaviour, possibly hallucinations, irregular heart palpitations and nausea.

Aside from feeling cheated out of my happy ending, I am more afraid that i'll never find out what being ill with love truly feels like.  I would like to stress the word ill.