Questions, thoughts, and MAYBE answers

Socialization

Met up with two people today whom I never really hang out with.

The first, a guy who sat next to me in Spanish, and who always helped my day go by a little more optimistically. I meet him during work when I make my rounds, and he always smiles and gives a laugh, reminding me not to take life so seriously. He’s 36, and it is reassuring to know that he’s had a few bumps in the road but that you can still be enthusiastic about everything.

I’m happy I had coffee with him this afternoon. He’s such a doll, and I honestly hope that happens again.

The second, a girl from the Journal. She’s very introverted, and doesn’t seem like she reaches out to people too often. Texting me, she said that she didn’t want to drink alone.

Taking it as somewhat of a warning sign, I asked what time and place she’d like to meet to hang out. We wound up going for a walk around the lake by my house. It was then that I realized, you don’t need to know what the problem is or explain it. Sometimes, you just need to hang out, instead of “talking it out.” We had tea, talked of many things.

I love happenstance meetings with people who I’m not too familiar with.

Makes me realize I have more social bones in my body than I realized.

I wish I was Bald.

I’m at work and trying to drink coffee. Which is difficult, because my coworker Blaze (also known as “DM”, because he made a Dick Move on doing a task I wanted to do, and not because he’s a master of dungeons) is writing stuff and I really can’t focus with him sitting cross-legged on the floor.

If he uncrossed his legs, that would be a different story, but even if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

I think that people should be bald. Every single person on the planet should be bald. I remember I was bald, and life was so much better. I instantly become a millionaire, and ladies loved me. Or maybe being a millionaire loved ladies. There’s something about having no hair that women inherently love, and it seems to be the best approach for being the most amicable person in the room.

“Baldy” would become a compliment, we would no longer need solar panels, and we could channel energy from the sun from the sheer sheen of peoples’ heads.

Michael Jordon is bald.

There is nothing wrong with this. 

Eternal Youth

This extended weekend has been incredibly productive.

Literally over 12 hours of dancing, and as of yesterday, quite a few issues resolved (or, at least, brought out in the open and discussed), and a rather interesting question.

Say there is a serum that grants you eternal youth. The cells involved can rejuvenate themselves, and the only way you can die is if you take a shotgun to the head or something.

Would you take this opportunity to stay young forever?

I will discuss this in detail later…

Thank you.

Writing, and another one of those “dates” that are too good not to post about

Not sleeping. This is why naps are unhealthy. They throw off my rhythm.

The only writing I do nowadays is posing as Sherlock, a character which is obviously one that is not of my own invention. I don’t think I’ve come up with a single, good, well-written story with an original basis of my own for over three years. 

I have no real grasp of what I want to write anymore. Nor do I have a handle on what people even like to read nowadays. The things I enjoy writing usually result in long tangents about overplayed ideas and unoriginal material that nobody likes in the first place.

People enjoy short little snippets of things. And if they aren’t short, they better as hell be broken up with pictures, or else they will Lose Focus. 

My gripe is also with the deal that I can’t seem to stick with a specific writing style, and that I don’t put much emotion into the writing itself. I prefer to stick with facts, to see things from an unbiased perspective.

When I try to write about characters, I find it difficult, mostly because they’re too predictable, too one-dimensional, they don’t have a backstory, or their interactions are too much like the ones I have with myself when I argue. I already see the ending of the conflict, so I wonder, “Why bother having them talk in the first place?”

I find so much more peace with actions rather than dialogue. Writing speech is not an issue for me—at least, I don’t think so. But the dialogue is too slow-paced, evidently, and too much like a theory book, than an actual conversation that every-day people would have.

I have written a lot of non-fiction narratives, and have had people read them. They give the story back, slightly smiling. I ask for constructive criticism, and they say,

“The dialogue…is too calm.”

“What do you mean, ‘too calm’?”

“It just doesn’t sound like an argument. Think of an argument you might have with your friends or parents.”

Well, apparently the way how I argue with my friends or parents is too rational or thought out or whatever. There needs to be more SHOUTING, which is the only way to convey conflict. Action, we want ACTION.

Dammit, animes. You have doomed how people feel they should react in social situations. I swear, easily influenced younguns are going to read it and think that they’ll actually have giant sweatdrop coming from their brow when they feel embarrassed. 

Kind of like how I used to watch Gatorade commercials and thought that I would sweat colour. Did anyone else have this issue?

Another thing. I want to update this damn thing with cartoons, but I don’t own a scanner and I just…seriously, I’m bitching now. I just don’t want to scan at the school’s library, because I suck with technology and I have probably the worst time management anyone could ever encounter.

SPEAKING OF TIME MANAGEMENT, there has been a dude who we’ll just call Sandwich. Sandwich does not know how I operate in terms of making plans. Sandwich has been making it a point of texting and calling almost every night, if not every other night, asking if I can hang out with him, and also made the tempting offer that I would “get lucky” with him if I bought an ice cream cake for his birthday.

Yes. Because the exchange of me giving a cake to you in results of your unwarranted penis is exactly what I want. Please, Sandwich, more of your dick. I can’t imagine a life without the exchange of Sex Cake on your birthday.

Which also happened to coincide with my friends’ birthday.

Sandwich asked, “Could I see you on my birthday?”

“I’m sorry, I’m busy.”

“What with?”

“It’s [friend]’s birthday on the same day.”

Him: “…well..you should see me anyway.”

The promise of Sex-Cake Exchange and ditching my closest friend for a guy who I hardly know? Tempting. Let’s see what else this guy has.

While he talked of money, which I would compare as pleasant as getting a foreskin removed, he moved on to say that he had a rough year. I asked why.

“Well, I feel like I’ve gotten a lot done this year. I’ve had school achievements, work achievements…but no friend achievements, you know?”

No, Sandwich. I don’t know. Mostly because I missed that “Achievement” in the first three levels, right after I earned the Bow and Arrow of Social Awareness. Maybe after I kill a couple of dwarves to earn the trust of the humans, only then may I earn the elusive Friend Achievement status.

Thank God I’ve learned to quiet my inner monologue.

Me: “What do you mean, ‘friend achievement’?”

Him: “I mean…I haven’t had a girlfriend in over a year or have gotten laid [hint…HINT…], and it seems like you make friends really easily and keep them for a long time.”

I didn’t mention to him my special secret for keeping friends— that I play it like a game of Sims. After I hug someone twenty times, we move onto tickling each other, then maybe WAHOO later in the same day. 

Me: “But that doesn’t really answer my question. What do you mean by ‘friend achievement’?”

Not going to lie. I was a little bent on the idea.

Him: “I don’t know…I mean, that’s pretty subjective, isn’t it?”

Me: “Yeah, it is. But what better way to carry on a conversation than to explore what it is exactly when you say that a friend is an ‘achievement’? How can you tell if someone is a good friend to you personally or not?”
(I asked the latter question, mostly because he told me a week earlier that I am a “good friend” of his, even though we’ve met only 5-6 times. I would say, bare minimum, that a Good Friend would make it a point of serenading you with the worst possible sappy 80’s love song, and in turn, you threaten to toss parasites in their bed. True story.)

At this rate, I would like to inform all readers that this is probably the most engaged I’d been in getting to know Sandwich better.

I fail at dating, mostly because the majority of the people I meet fall rapidly into the “petri-dish” zone. It’s not that the person is necessarily bad or doing anything wrong. They just aren’t terribly reflexive with humour or ideas, so I try to go for them explaining why they do the things they do. Introspection—it makes it very fun.

He proceeded to say that he didn’t know how to explain it (which is fair—relationships are fairly difficult to elaborate on), and told me about how his parents might be getting him a car.

The talk of material possession over how you evaluate someone. I don’t know. I don’t care about the things you have. I care about how you react in social situations, and more importantly, why.

About an hour later, I met up with some friends to go swimming. Sandwich commented on how disappointed he was that I was almost always constantly busy doing something. 

For the past 2 nights in a row, he has attempted calling me at midnight. Both times, I have been occupied with either dance or other activities. 

However, I think a good rule of thumb is that if you’re only acquainted with someone, either text beforehand, asking if you can call, or don’t call any time after 9pm. You don’t know if they’re sleeping or busy or whatever. 

I’m going to end this on a good note. My friends’ birthday was spent watching Snatch (where I drew cartoons of the guy who really likes pigs and ends his sentences as a question, now don’t he?), The Room, with an Iron Man 2 balloon and temporary tattoos.

Nothing says good aging like Tony Stark on your arm. 

I attended.

I danced.

I conqured.

….

I RULE.

I did some ballroom dancing last night, and…I didn’t do too well. I just was too shy to go out and do it. This is abnormal of me.

I just don’t feel competent enough. 

This is something I absolutely love doing, yet I fear screwing up with people who are better than me, and I don’t get enough practice outside of lessons. 

I’m heading out today for a giant USA Dance event, with no one I know attending. I’m pretty unnerved by this.