At times Savage Kitten notices that I am despondent or downcast, despite my best attempts to hide it from her. She then concernedly asks if there's anything she can do to help. There is, but then again, there isn't.
[Well yes, honeypie - kindly roll the clock back to BEFORE you met him. Earlier than that even, BEFORE you decided our relationship was no longer viable. Before you became convinced that affairs that have lasted twenty years are like old clothes too worn to keep. Roll the clock back to when I was happy and oblivious to any cracks on the horizon.]
She often says that I should learn to let people do things for me. It's hard for my friends if I turn down help and comfort. I should just reach out.
[My dear, what help and comfort can I ask of you at this point? I do not want you back, as you gave up on our relationship and have moved on - should I wish to make you unhappy? Could I really ask that you toss your own happiness just because I'm being a gloomy old toad? Do I really want to dwell in a perpetual past? It cannot be like it ever was again.]
It's true. I've always had a hard time showing vulnerability.
In Holland, showing vulnerability usually meant glee and gloating from the little cannibalistic savages with which I attended school. So also in the hot-house sneeringly superior "intellectual" atmosphere of Berkeley.
And among the young and savage hipster crowds of San Francisco, vulnerability simply indicates suckertude. Today's young adults are rather like piranhas in that regard. I'm fairly self-reliant in any case.
I stave off depression by thinking of tea, tobacco, and sex a lot.
Tea and tobacco are fair constants - nothing depressing there.
Thoughts about sex, however, are both bittersweet, and emotionally trying.
And completely hypothetical, dammit.
Despite tea and tobacco being 'emotionally' safe, they do present certain problems. Too much tea, and I'll stay up all night hacking up hairballs and munching plate after plate of buttered toast. Consequently ending up even more emotionally unstable - exhaustion has that effect - and showing up at work pretty much stir crazy and gibberant. With digestive problems to boot.
[Really, you can't have more than three cups of strong black tea with milk and sugar without at least one plate of buttered toast. And maybe a smidge of thick peel Oxford marmalade. It compliments both Assam and Ceylon. And that requires another bowl of something heavy on the smoky Syrian, while you make another pot of tea.]
As you can guess, that is NOT an optimum condition. The ideal would be a correct balance between tea, tobacco, and sex. Moderation in all things. Heck, some emotional support, and just affectionate hugging from someone who was mine and mine alone would be nice.
While I smoke, swill more tea, and prepare the umpteenth plate of hot buttered toast, I often day-dream about a hypothetical young woman with a pleated skirt, a physics text book, small comfy shoes, broad-range interests, a vocabulary to match, and laughing eyes.
A young lady with warm cheeks.
Toast. Something intense about toast. And molten butter.
Oh yes. Baby, baby, baby.
More tobacco.
Latakia.
Tea.
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WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?
There is an air of distraction to the streets in C'town nowadays. People seem lost in thought, absent minded, somewhat out of it. And mo...
16 comments:
It seems unreasonable to presume that any woman that you "date" will necessarily turn out to be a long term relationship. Sort of "kiss a lot of frogs" before on becomes your princess. Or at least a rebound girlfriend for a few months, just to ensure the equipment doesn,t rust. As much as a good, fresh betel nut is a wonderful digestif, it won,t help now.
I am not an adherent of the “kiss a lot of frogs” school of thinking, and the idea of a rebound girlfriend has NO appeal.
Life is too short to drink Starbucks. Period.
Either someone is well worth dating, or they're not worth dating at all. There is no middle ground.
I see NO reason to even consider a second rate dalliance.
I am not Silvio Berlusconi.
That's magical thinking. Each and every date simplycannot be predestined to be "TheOne.". Rather than "Ms. Right" , perhaps, its just, ms. Right Now". Or, there Internet dating.
No, that's not settling for crap.
No problem if it doesn't work out. But hell will freeze over before I waste my time on tattooed floozies, party girls, or women I have nothing in common with.
The real losers are the people who get yanked around by their reproductive organs because they are that desperate that they'll date anything.
Why do I have to keep pointing out that life is too short to drink Starbucks?
Quite frankly, anyone that would date someone just because there's nothing else going on in their life is messing up two people as well as being damn close to tasteless and sleazy.
Either someone is well worth dating, or they're not worth dating at all. There is no middle ground.
Now, please refer back to the frequent mention of Starbucks.
If fine meat is unavailable, I'm still not going to eat dog food.
Just because hotdogs are cheap does not mean they're good.
Ripple and Night Train are NOT passable substitutes for decent wine. Clown paintings can NOT be compared to fine art.
The talent show at the special ed school is nowhere near the same as a night at the opera.
Sheet cake from some economy dump is unfit for any celebration, no matter how many tacky suburban Philippinas you work with.
And once more, life is too short to drink Starbucks. Please memorize that phrase, there's an entire world-view embodied in the concept. Life is too short to drink Starbucks.
It's generally recommended to start up and run old automobiles to ensure all the parts work and remain lubricated. At least explore new venues beyond home and office. How about walking arroung the 99 Ranch with me? Nothing atracts high quality women like dragging a cripple with a long gray beard.
Oh lordy, hell no.
Isn't obvious by now that Taiwanese and other Mandarin speaking Bay Area suburbanites have ZERO appeal?
It isn't the physical type - if it were, I'd have a whole bunch of philippino kids by now - it's a mental type.
That mental type could be any hue or race. The key thing is what they are like as persons, not just their particular appearance.
I don't date slags. Period.
Either I can have a real conversation with them, or I will not waste my time.
Life is too short to drink Starbucks.
Peri-effing-od.
m
Why on earth would I want to waste my time on someone I wouldn't be caught dead with?
If I cannot stand to be with her, why the steaming hell would I even want to be with her?
Dude, think about it - LIFE IS TOO EFFING SHORT TO DRINK STARBUCKS!!!
Why did you stop tagging the posts related to Savage Kitten?
I know it's selfish, but it makes harder for me to read the posts related to her...
Hi Crystal,
I've appended the tags "Savage Kitten" and/or "Kittens eventually grow up" to several posts. The first one for posts which mention her particularly, the second for pieces that describe me going to pieces.
;-)
Sending platonic hugs from someone definitely NOT your physical type.
I find that a good slice of homemade apple pie goes very well with a hot cup of Ceylon.
Also, yes, you need a life. Or at least a hobby. It's the old thing of finding someone when you are no longer avidly looking. Start up an East Asian film festival? A tea-and-language club? Anything that will generally interest you and bring you enjoyable company. Loneliness sucks, and you're most likely to find compatible friends where you're in your aspy-ish element, yes?
And sending even more platonic hugs ....* and kudos for ignoring bad advice form lecherous grey-bearded cripples.
* I remember hugging you once, after a particularly bad day of harrassing anti-Semites. I believe I prefaced it by saying "I'm going to hug you now and you are just going to have to deal with it". You seemed horrified. And I remember thinking " Never do this again".
Virtual platonic hugs. Many. Many. And complete gratitude and affection for all that you've done and continue to do for my land and my people.
Rabbit Mom- no- warrior princess- no (sigh) rabbit mom.
Definitely a warrior princess.
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead."
Not sure whether I should reference King Henry or Kor disabling the warp-drives of the Jem'Hadar.
"The Federation will rue the day they dared to challenge the might of the Klingon Empire! We will take Caleb IV, and raise our banner over the smoking ruins!"
No idea what that means, but it sounds right.
"We few. We happy Few. We band of brothers" always worked for me.
Xena.
or, as aspy offspring might say
Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers,
I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.
A day may come when the courage of men fails,
when we forsake our friends
and break all bonds of fellowship,
but it is not this day.
An hour of wolves and shattered shields,
when the age of men comes crashing down,
but it is not this day.
This day we fight!
For all that you hold dear on this good Earth,
I bid you stand, Men of the West!!
Well thn, come take me out for a walk if it's not raining. I'm slightly faster but need to get strength. Then, I'll look at HaShem's creations, at least to the extent required by Toirah and you can ponder otherMitzvot.
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