Remember, Remember The Month of September

“When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the time will turn.” – Harriet Beecher Stowe.

There are times in life when it’s just plain hard to look up, despite how much you desperately want to. Sometimes it’s just not easy to see the positive or the good. I think that would about sum up the events of this last month. I feel as though I’m hanging on by a thread and so help me if one more thing goes wrong I may crack. Seriously. This month has given me a royal beating. 

Okay, September. I surrender. I raise my white flag to you.

My car broke again. My bike broke on me like three times in the span of three weeks. It’s still broken because I had so many other extra expenses pertaining to the hound, my own medical bills, etc. I’m also f*cking turning 30 in like 3 days and admittedly having a bit of a meltdown about it. I’m asking myself why I don’t have my act together. What’s wrong with me? Why did I never accomplish what I thought I would at this juncture in life?

Then the wonderful guy I was dating realized he just wasn’t emotionally ready for anything beyond friendship. His timing is horrid, but that’s just life, isn’t it? I’m very sad about it – because I thought finally someone good had come into my life and it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a good and kind person by my side. I understand where he’s coming from but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, I think it hurts more because he’s so wonderful. Heck, I’ve been there before as well. I initiated something and realized emotionally I just wasn’t in it and I probably hurt him. I think he was a much bigger person than I was when it happened to me. I broke my moral compass regarding speaking out of anger and said a lot of terrible things. He didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. I can admit when I’m wrong and have done as much. He doesn’t think any less of me and I’m certain that’s more than I deserve. I think the next time something like this happens I need to flee into the wilderness and cut off any form of communication from the world so I don’t lash out.  I think dating needs to be tabled for a while. I have too many other stressors in life and I think I need to let my wounds heal from this experience.

He was chivalrous, kind, intelligent and witty. His smile embodied that warmth he gave to others. 

Again I have to remind myself what got me here where I am now: just plain not thinking things through. I thought I could handle a place with no kitchen. It’s not just about that anymore, but my own personal safety. There is no sense of boundaries, really. Just over the weekend I had my landlord’s daughter simply walk into my apartment with four of her friends. I am not amused. My landlord was practically frothing at the mouth because I was talking to the neighbors, who have been a huge help to me and given me endless moral support. I don’t even want to be there right now, but I have to go back to pack. I admit I’m a little bit afraid because the landlord strikes me as a ticking bomb.

I want to be as far removed from this dysfunction as possible.

My happy ending this month is that I found a place that’s better and closer to work.  It has a kitchen! OMG! I’m moving on up in the world. The neighborhood doesn’t scare me. I’d be perfectly fine walking around with the hound when the sun is not out. In this scenario, however, the hound will have to take one for the team until I can sort out a dog door – which means he’ll be outside while I’m at work. The landlord happens to work for the same organization that I work for. I think that was a big help to me in being chosen out of all of the other applicants . . . because renting in Portland is tough and I magically beat out 85 other applicants – with a hound dog.

The dynamic duo triumphs in the end. 

For now I’m reminding myself to just focus on one thing at a time and not try to look so far ahead into the future. Sure, I need to sort out a dog door and find a dog house in the interim. I need to get pots and pans because I have none, I need a kitchen table. I need a lot of things. Whatever. For now I’ll just be focusing on getting the hell out of there. One thing at a time, Lass. One thing at a time.

I’ve been talking to a guy I know from tango. He’s going through a breakup, too – but he’s been with this gal for 7 years. Our solution to our woes? Smashing things. We have tentative plans to wail on pumpkins and make a huge mess. Because we can and something about completely laying waste to things is therapeutically gratifying. We’re both fairly stressed out and experiencing sleepless nights. I confessed to him last night that I was disappointed upon learning that he had a girlfriend when I first met him – but I left it at that. Neither one of us are in that kind of mind frame right now. We’re slightly embittered about the dating process, why people treat one another like garbage and that feeling that life has somehow turned against you. While working through my stress and rage I’ll have a companion to talk with regarding the things in life I just don’t understand. I guess it’s comforting that someone else is experiencing the same emotions, so he knows exactly where I’m coming from.

I am very much looking forward to this. 

While outletting my rage on unsuspecting perishables, I’ll be making an extra effort to find the good things in life, even though it’s difficult to see them right now and smile even though I feel like I’m breaking. I’ll make more of an effort to surround myself with the people that make me happy and make an honest attempt to not freak out over the fact that I’m turning 30. I make no guarantees that I won’t cry over my ice cream cake or something. 

Just keep looking up. It can't rain forever. 

Warfare

My experience with dating so far has led me to this conclusion: It really all boils down to psychological warfare. Also, people in general are idiots. On any online dating site it’s commonplace to see things written such as “Be real” and “Not into mind games” and “No drama”. Those lines tell me the following: 1. You are probably the biggest phony that ever lived. 2. You are psychologically flawed and must be in control at all times. 3. You obviously have drama in your life or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. You have unresolved issues and are projecting your nonsense into cyber world. And then there’s my all-time personal favorite message I get from time to time, “R u real?” No, dumbass. I actually put effort into a profile for your own amusement and gawking pleasure! (Side note: I do NOT upload revealing photos). There was also that one guy that said something along the lines of, “You’re hot, but I’m not sure about you.” Umm . . . . Thanks. Blocked!!!

There was also an inebriated text sent in the wee hours of the morning. Lord help me. 

Of the few I actually have let into my life at least to some small degree I’ve found myself wondering why he hasn’t called or messaged me in several days. What did I do to irritate him? Was I not forthcoming enough in who I truly am? OMG?! Do I lack the level of self-awareness to truly know myself?! And then I remember that I’m one of the most awesome people ever, go cuddle with the hound and get on with life.

I'd choose this guy any day. 

I think I have a far different take on what a guy is actually saying than what he really means. I didn’t really realize this until I was telling my landlord last night how extremely bored I am by most of these guys. If they can’t match me intellectually or emotionally and are unable to carry a semi-intelligent conversation, why do they bother wasting my time?! My latest irritation came when I met a guy in person who seemed interesting enough. The entire time he talked about his connections with local big names of which I know nothing of because that really doesn’t matter to me and also about all of the money he’s made. Nice enough – it just struck me as full of himself and materialistic. From my landlord’s perspective, this was merely a guy’s way of saying he could take care of me.

Then there's the guy who just can't tear himself away from his phone. When in doubt, spill your drink and run. 

There’s a Huffington Post article that resonates with my own thoughts about how ridiculous this entire process really is. Here are a few of my favorite highlights: 1. Thou shalt never maketh plans to hang out in advance, for thou are casual and disinterested. 2. Thou shalt never compliment thy lover. Speaketh only in condescending words. 3. Thou shalt covet many, many lovers, preferably in the same neighborhood. Thou shalt speak of them often. 4. Thou shalt remember, above all: The lover who cares the least wins: One sentimental ‘thinking of you’ could derail all the progress you’ve made! Go into Code Red Aloof mode. Ignore your babe’s texts for hours-long gaps and reply with one-word answers. In no time, you’ll prove your lack of investment and thus restore the balance of power.

Because winning is more important than anything else, right? 

It’s just insanity – our own struggle for power and to always have the upper hand. Every single time I feel the urge to want to blow someone off I’m starting to question why. Did I feel slighted by him and am turning this into a vendetta to protect my own ego? Why did his failure to contact me irritate me so much and how does this tie into my own issues of abandonment? Why does dating feel like one of the hardest games of tug-of-war I’ve ever played?

What I can say is this: I’m paying close attention to not just how he treats me and those close to him, but also how he treats the average person that might cross his path. If he can’t be kind to a stranger it’s highly unlikely he’ll be kind to me when I need him to be.

This loving of a heart. That's what matters. 

Something else that really gets me is that everyone has advice to give me. Everyone. Seriously. The attitude seems to be that because these people are married and I am not, clearly I have flawed logic and that’s why I’m still single so they have hoards of knowledge to bestow upon me! My personal favorite is the concept of a soul mate. I believed in that once upon a time – now I’m a firm believer that what you put into a relationship is exactly what you’ll get out of it. The idea that there’s one perfect guy out there for me and I only just have to find him for my life to feel complete and make myself whole is nonsense.

I love old and new friends - I just don't need the dating advice. Thanks. 

I’ve had very old friends reconnect with me lately. I love them, I do. The problem with their logic is that they still think they know me as the young teenager who hoped someone would rescue her from her nightmarish life. People change. I learned to save myself. I’ve been told that I come across as guarded. That’s probably true and I don’t see that as a bad thing. Being naïve and trusting didn’t do me any favors. I can still be open to the world without living my life like a bumbling idiot thinking that no one could possibly ever want to harm me or take advantage of me.

My dating woes are the least of my problems lately. My radiator blew on me last week, forcing me to take out whatever funds I had left in my account to fix it. I am officially in pauper status again. The silver lining to this is that while my car is now fixed, it forced me to ride my bike to work like I said I would. I’ve been doing 22 miles a day and royally kicking butt. I’m rather proud of myself for that – and also noted a few truths about myself that I had to admit. 1. I’m extremely competitive. How dare that guy pass me on the road?! I’m going to smoke him! 2. I get road rage on the bike, too. This isn’t just from other cyclists acting like total assholes, but also from cat calls and inappropriate stares. There are times I want to dismount my bike and bash in someone’s car window . . . . But then I remind myself of my awesomeness and carry on. 

I have been described as such . . . .But my main point is this: I am not out there for your personal viewing pleasure. I don't care how marvelous my breasts are.