When in Rome

I hate that I feel like no one really wants what I have to offer. They don’t care to give me a chance, not a real one. And it seems like being nice and working hard isn’t what matters anymore. It’s hard when you don’t even think you matter and as much as you think you shouldn’t feel like it. You do. I look at how things have been going around and I see people who do everything wrong win out and its not how things should be.

But what’s the benefit of doing the right thing when you feel like shit and have nothing to show for it? I’ve felt like this before, but that should be a lesson to me. I keep trying to be the good one, the nice one, the one who wants to be there for others and most of the time it gets shit on. On the off chance that someone appreciates it or reciprocates then its nice. But its far outweighed by the other times.

I used to bitch on here all of the time about how unfair it was and the only thing that I can change is myself. So why do I keep struggling against the current to do everything right and be good? Why is it so hard to give up on a dead ideology and do what the rest of the world does? 

How to tell you don’t matter

A friend of mine is getting married and had an engagement bash. There wasn’t an invite for me, which tells me something about that friend because they invited a lot of other people. Many of which I didn’t know they were that close to.

It tells me to distance myself from that friend some more.

I actually don’t mind not being invited, but it is telling of where I stand with someone when they don’t tell me about the party to celebrate their engagement. I would think it was secret, clandestine—if I hadn’t seen the pictures posted and tagged on Facebook for the world to see. I’ll never mention the event, but it tells me a lot.

I’m not known for feeling like I matter or I’m important or whatever else. And with my birthday coming up soon it seems like I should feel like that, just for a while. My job doesn’t make anyone feel appreciated (and I think they like it that way). Many of the people around me don’t seem to care whether I’m there or not. So its just what I feel about myself. I’d come with a disclaimer. Sorry—I’m not worth it. But that’s just a self fulfilling prophecy. 

Edit: Just looked through my blogs categories. I’ve got about fourteen fucking million on this mirror of the blog. This place is old…

Attraction Like This Only Happens Once Every Five Years…

I had forgotten what it was like to really be attracted to someone. That can’t stand it, nervous fits of excitement kind of attraction. It’s not in the creepy way or in the same way that you get a crush on someone. It’s an entirely different beast.

For a long time I lived without the fear of rejection from the women I took on dates because I wasn’t that attracted to them. I think when someone first told me that we should just go our separate ways I was shocked by how well I took it. I felt like an adult.

A few years back I was hurt by someone and while she loved me as a friend and probably still does. She didn’t love me how I loved her. After I sulked a while, I felt like I could tackle the world without fear of rejection because I had survived that…even more, our friendship had survived it. Even when I was dating the last girl and we made it a few months before she broke it off in a hasty phone call, it didn’t hurt. So this reinforced my feeling. I thought I’d taught myself to do what I told so many I had.

Not care.

But in truth I had just raised the bar. I fell in love with an intelligent, quirky, cute girl who was ambitious and smart last time around. She wanted a degree and she wrote and stood up to me on anything, and she was critical of my writing and well cultured. Nothing about her was aiming low when it came to what’s to be desired from a woman.

In fact it was aiming higher (and further) than I ever had before. And if Angry Birds has taught us anything, its that it’s really fucking hard to aim high and far…

The girls following her were glitter compared to stars. They were made for TV Life Time movies compared to Oscar worthy films. They were the Sega NOMAD compared to the Gameboy—forgettable, unnoticeable, and even a little unworthy. Not that the girls were bad off or bad for me. But they weren’t for me.

This new thing though, if it is to become a thing, its got the sparks of something big. It’s impressive when you can tell someone what you’re thinking and not have them run screaming. We’re all a little crazy—you’ve just got to find someone who’s brand of crazy meshes well with yours while trying not to go stark raving mad.

Because she’s so…impressive, desirable, fun—I’m scared again. I seriously do care about making this go well and I am afraid I’ve already fucked it up. Right now I’m just hoping that she’s half as sweet on me as I am on her.

Nothing Good…

I get really nervous after a date, even one where I’m sure I didn’t really fuck up. I don’t feel like I’m good enough for the girls I want (and there’s plenty of evidence to back me) and just something like the girl being sick can cause me to think all of the worst things.

I just don’t know what to do about this. I can’t be like this forever. Nothing good will come of it.

Best Date Ever

I’m not going to go into long, rambling details here. I met a girl on eHarmony a while back and we talked for several weeks. I asked for her number and she said she didn’t feel comfortable. We kept talking, but a few days later she vanished. Then about two weeks later she randomly messages me again and gives me the number.

We texted most of my day off, talked on the phone five hours that night and set up a date for the next day. The date was probably the best I’ve been on and it wasn’t because it was something spectacular, we just laugh at the same stuff and had a nice meal together. I brought her roses in a vase. She told me that she had never been given flowers before. She seemed all too happy about it.

It feels good to leave feeling like you had a good time and she did. Supposed to be seeing her again Saturday.

Fixer Upper

I try to be truthful when it comes to giving others my opinion when asked. Scratch that. I will give my opinion when not even asked if I feel that the occasion warrants it. So in dealing with one of my good friends and his obsession with a nearly unresponsive woman I’ve stated in almost every conversation where she is brought up that it’s a bad idea to date someone based on potential.

What I mean by that is that if you look at a person as a fixer upper there might be a problem. Someone having potential they’re cashing in on themselves is fine.The key word here is themselves. If you’re running a rescue operation to make them into what you want them to be or what you think they should be its not right.

I have a bit of a date tomorrow and the big thing is that the girl isn’t someone I see as a potential project. She’s someone I want to be with because she’s already in a good place (at least that’s how she seems).

Twenty Five Disturbing Reactions to Chris Brown at the Grammys

I’ve not been the most forgiving person when it comes to Chris Brown. Okay, that’s putting it mildly. I still think he’s a dirt bag. I still think his acting like the victim when he punched and bit a woman is bullshit. And I feel like he is at best a fleeting talent in the industry kept alive by rappers backing his songs with their verses and him writing some catching two sentence hit.

I don’t understand anyone who likes him, especially women. I don’t condone him being able to show his face in the industry or on TV or anywhere else. He doesn’t act like a person who’s sorry and you can’t just sing and dance your way out of being a woman beater.

Then a friend on Twitter retweeted this and I was shocked, confused and slightly disturbed at the implications of what the girls were saying. This is from a person who laughed at two girls one cup and doesn’t really get disturbed by anything. There’s something wrong with these people, I won’t say its wrong with women because the women who retweeted it isn’t like them. I know other women who aren’t like this and who don’t find this funny.

But the fact that anyone would say this frightens me.

Right or wrong

You try to go back and do the right thing, but its never actually enough. Every time I do what’s right or wrong it just seems to punish me or those who don’t deserve it or both.

Best Engagement Photo Ever

Or should I say best wife ever. She let him do this. I want one when I get married—with a TARDIS flying through.

Molly Hooper–The One That Counts

If I still had a working heart, this would have brought a tear to my eye.

There is a trend in media for strong women who are outwardly so. They are witty, snarky, toned, and know how to hold a gun. The role model being pushed is that of the ultimate woman. It’s progress – I wouldn’t trade River Song for a hundred people from Hollywood’s past – but there’s a silent repercussion, a fortification of the idea that women have to be twice as accomplished to be considered half as good, to deserve this screen time at all. They are always extraordinary, always the one in a million. Importantly, there’s no variety – only one mould to fit ourselves into. It’s a great mould, yes, but not for everyone – because there is no such thing as a real woman, no one mould that anyone should have to squeeze themselves into if it doesn’t fit.

Molly Hooper is, finally, different. Molly Hooper is kind, thoughtful, always smiling, and intelligent in a way that you don’t really notice until you remember she’s a pathologist. She asks after people and cares about the answers, remembers little details because everything someone says is important. She probably still remembers how Sherlock likes his coffee. Her blog is pink, covered in kittens, and uses Comic Sans. She blunders her way through speaking, has serious foot-in-mouth syndrome, and can’t put on a pair of plastic gloves without making faces. She is one of the strongest women I have ever seen.

She puts up with what can only be described as “total bullshit.” You might say that makes her a bit of a doormat, but for people like Molly (like me), who like kindness and hate conflict, it takes serious guts to call someone on their behaviour and say you’re hurting me. It takes guts to carry that kind of unrequited love and still first and foremost be a friend, to ask what do you need? Molly Hooper makes Sherlock Holmes, a man who can barely articulate anything beyond the scientific, try to be kinder. In the end, Molly isn’t the woman who counts, but the friend.