Somewhere Between On Again and Off Again

This is going to be an interesting summer, to say the least.

 

The girl I’ve been seeing for the past month or so, Teri, and I have decided to just be friends. Ultimately it was bound to happen, since she’s moving to Seattle at the end of August. Both of us felt, however, that it would be best to end it sooner, as the two of us know that attachment when someone is definitely leaving is a recipe for disaster.

 

Tomorrow, I have a first date with someone new. Rebecca. A 25-year old Social Worker, and another OkCupid prospect. Our first phone conversation lasted two hours, a good sign. I am genuinely excited to meet her, especially considering she’s NOT moving anywhere anytime soon. Unfortunately, the excitement has been diluted by recent activity with OAOA.

 

It’s very little activity. Like emotional tremors, warning you of an impending earthquake. Admittedly, I want that Earthquake.

 

Ever since she contacted me two weekends ago, I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. And that’s when I decided that I wasn’t over her, I didn’t want to be over her, and I wasn’t ready to give up.

 

I wasn’t sure what her intentions were for reaching out to me. I’m still not sure. But I needed to give this one last final hurrah. I wasn’t going to keep my emotions trapped inside of me anymore. I’m kind of a crazy dude, as most guys can be when they’re in love, and I was prepared to show it.

 

I called her each and every night. And each and every night, I didn’t get an answer. I didn’t care. I was going to keep trying until I got one. Even it was “Kevin, if you don’t stop calling, I’m going to get a restraining order on you.”

 

I would take it. I loved her.

 

This past Saturday evening, I sent her an email. It contained a quote I had written, and a short message to her:

 

“There is a difference between the people we meet once and forget and the people that leave a mark. They both ultimately change our lives, yes, but the ones we remember, the ones we miss…those are the ones that continue to shape our lives even after they are gone. In that sense, there is no end. There is no real goodbye. You are forever crossed.”

 

I know deep in my heart that you truly are my best friend. Which is why I can’t let go. I can only learn to do better for you.

 

As usual, I didn’t expect to get a response from her. The next day, however, I did. Before I opened it on my blackberry, I ran through the possibilities in my head. I was almost certain it was something along the lines of “Please stop calling me and sending me things like this. It’s too much.”

 

But it wasn’t. It was simply: “ J Thank you Kevin.”

 

I replied with “You’re most welcome.”

 

I then heard from her again…saying “I was thinking…we should go to AC this week.”

 

I said, “Pick a day. I’m with you.”

 

It’s only been a day, but I haven’t heard back from her yet. She hasn’t picked a day. I called, and she still didn’t answer. I sent her an email this morning proposing Friday for our AC trip…but nothing.

 

All I can think is that where ever she is, she’s scared and she’s torn, yet at the same time she’s missing me and thinking about me.

 

At least one of us has to be sure to make this leap. And I’m sure. And I am not giving up.

 

Because I’ve never felt love like this before.

 

-Spontaneous K

It's Been A Long While...I Shouldn't Have Left You

If anyone’s still out there…

I’m sorry for my absence.

It feels like forever, even though it has been less than two months. I guess when you go from posting every day to not posting at all, two months can seem like a while.

Why return now? It’s not like I haven’t had a lot to say in the past two months. Indeed I have. Life, however, caught up with me. It was time for me to live and learn, not live and share, and my misadventures in the past two months have taught me some of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned. I return now because I have too much to say and no one to say it to. So whether anyone is actually reading this or not, I send it out to the great cyber void in hopes to empty myself and feel slightly less weighted.

Let’s start with the most obvious topic: Women. In the past two months, I went on a dating binge unlike any I’ve ever had in my life. My experiment of talking to as many people as I could in a day turned my life upside-down, in a good way. I was feeling more confident, people were responding to me better, even my friends started seeing positive changes.

When I went out on the town with my friends on weekends, I had no problem going up to girls and talking to them. My friends couldn’t believe how easy I made it look. They said I had a super-power. They dubbed me Weapon X. In a specific instance, I alone managed to bring a group of girls, and one guy, over to my friends’ table and play drinking games with us for several hours, and then come back to my friend’s to continue hanging out after the bar closed.

This practice in the real world exacerbated my results in the cyber world. My online dating statistics skyrocketed. In one week, I had three first dates, and I managed to make out with each of them ON that first date. One of them in broad daylight.

Older women had often told me that one day I’d be beating women away with a stick. It kind of felt like that prophecy was being fulfilled.

Despite my bi-weekly panic attacks, despite being kind of broke, despite moving back in with my parents, something was changing. I was attracting women. Yet…something had also not changed. I wasn’t attracting any that I felt any real spark with.

I did meet one that I liked enough. She also liked me enough. She’s moving to Seattle in September for grad school for the next five years, so both of us knew that we couldn’t get attached and that whatever we had would be short term. And so…I got laid. For the first time in two years.

It was not the transcendental, ethereal experience I was hoping it was going to be. It was just…sex. There was no love, no passion. It was kind of boring. For the first time in my life, I have a non-exclusive fuck buddy, at least until September. She basically told me she was using me for sex. And I was pretty okay with that.

But all I could think was “That? That’s what I was yearning for two years, making my number one priority?”

It didn’t make me any happier. It boosted my ego a little, sure, but it made me realize that no one is going to make me happy. Sex is certainly not going to make me happy. And sex is not some life-changing instance. It’s a gross, instinctual desire, at its core level.

Making love, however…that’s what I knew I still wanted. But that wouldn’t truly make me happy either.

Through therapy, I dug deep into my soul and unearthed an epic amount of anger that I’ve been holding in for many, many years. I displaced this anger…on my siblings. My older sister, brother, and I got in a gigantic fight, one a size that my family hadn’t seen since we were kids. I almost thought that this was going to create a rift in my family and I was going to be that outcast…all because I wasn’t able to express my anger in a more appropriate manner.

Luckily, I salvaged it. My family really was there no matter what. Through this experience I learned that I had a disgusting desire for control over other people and circumstances, and if I don’t have that control, I grow angry and frustrated. I learned that in order to grow and have fulfilling relationships, I had to relinquish that control. It was the kind of control that ruined whatever I had with OAOA.

Right now, I’m living at home with my parents and saving a lot of money. I’m actually quite happy living with them for the time being. My screenwriting has come a long way, my personal growth has come a long way, and I’ve strengthened almost every important relationship in my life. My friends haven’t looked at me this way in a long time. I’m never alone on weekends any more. My phone often rings, and even if it doesn’t, I’m happy alone and have found activities to keep me busy. I have goals and a planned future. In as long as I can remember, I feel happy, settled, and fulfilled. I have everything I’m ever going to need.

And then I get a text message Saturday evening: “I miss you…”

OAOA. I held out. I held strong. I said goodbye to her and did what I needed to. But I didn’t forget. I thought about her every day. And when I saw her number on my blackberry, my heart went wild.

I missed her too.

A girl I was talking to from okCupid friended me on facebook. She looked through my photographs. She asked “Is Ali Williams your ex?”

I said “No. Just someone it didn’t work with.”

She said, “I can tell.”

“How can you tell that?” I asked.

“The vibe in the photo. The way you and her hold each other and smile. She really liked you.”

…

The girl continued: “We meet very few soul mates during our time in this world. She was one of them for you. And for whatever reason, she couldn’t commit. But you two matched.”

There is a difference between the people that you meet once and forget and the people that leave a mark. They both ultimately change your life, yes, but the ones you remember, the ones you miss…those are the relationships which continue to shape your life even after they have ended. In that sense, there is no real end. There is no real goodbye. You are forever crossed.

This story’s not over.

-Spontaneous K

Awareness is Awesome

In my last post, Putting the "Spontaneous" in Spontaneous K , I talked a little bit about
getting
something out of another person without being dishonest or "having an agenda." I told you,
yes,
there is a way, but that they have to want to give it to you .


This morning, I was on the receiving end of my own exercise, and being aware of my thought
process and the situation made it THAT much more interesting.


I was standing in line at McDonald's, and when it was my turn to order, I politely asked for a
Sausage, Egg, and Cheese McGriddle with a Hashbrown (don't judge me, they're delectable).
What happened next was rather astounding. The cashier, equally as politely, asked me "You
don't want anything to drink with that?"


I take out my wallet, and without really thinking, I say, "Nah, I'm okay." I say this because I'm
trying to save money and I'm just going to go upstairs to my office and get water/coffee for free
anyway. She then follows up with, "Coffee? Orange Juice? Nothin?"


That's when it hit me. Orange Juice. Orange Juice sounds really good. And I am kind of thirsty.
I said to her, "Alright, you've sold me. I'll take the orange juice."


This sounds inconsequential, but it's really quite profound. The cashier literally had no reason
to upsell me. She doesn't see a profit from selling orange juice or coffee, and I'm positive she
doesn't give a shit about the sales record of the McDonald's in suburban station. I've worked in
food retail. It's a pain in the ass. And customers can tell when you're trying to sell them some
shit or if you're just looking our for them. This lady genuinely wanted to make sure I wasn't
thirsty while I was eating a bunch of salty crap, and she figured for 79 cents more, 79 cents I
could most likely spare, I wouldn't be. And here's the kicker...


...the only reason I bought the orange juice is because I wanted it. I just didn't know that I
wanted it. I had hypnotized myself or disregarded the idea of wanting something to drink, so
I overlooked it, but deep down, I actually wanted that orange juice. I just need to be reminded
or convinced that I wanted it. That's the beauty of being genuine. You're helping others realize
what it is they already wanted. And if you want the same thing, that's fantastic.


The cashier wanted me to have the orange juice...I wanted to have the orange juice. Win-win.


Two nights ago, I wanted Francesca to be spontaneous and come out with me for a drink.
Before she even knew I existed, deep down, even if she didn't realize she wanted it, she
wanted something interesting to do other than her law homework. She wanted to go out and
meet a potentially awesome guy. Since she already wanted it, the convincing wasn't so
difficult.


However. If someone does not want something, no amount of convincing is going to change
their mind. They either want it, or they don't. People almost ALWAYS know EXACTLY what
they DON'T want.


But it's interesting how often we don't even realize what we do want. :)


-Spontaneous K

Putting the "Spontaneous" in Spontaneous K

It's true, anything can happen at anytime. That's the nature of the universe. However, if you're a nine to five-er like me, your days, even your weekends, tend to be rather predictable. Most people stick with what they know, the activities and people they enjoy, and that often limits the types of experiences they are likely to encounter.

Lately I've had a string of unpredictable occurrences, courtesy of our universe, (like OAOA's sister being struck by a vehicle, or a girl's horrid case of pink-eye) that have hindered instead of helped whatever progress I've been trying to make with the opposite sex. Which is fine. At first, I protested. Now, I welcome them as learning opportunities in managing expectations.

And in response to those unavoidable, unexpected occurrences that can ruin plans, I created "The Spontaneity Project". If I wanted a relationship, I couldn't sit around and wait for the universe to hand me the right woman. I had to step waaaaay out of my comfort zone and go get her.

So far, I've seen great minor successes in The Spontaneity Project. I've uncovered a stark, and startling, truth: People are actually really easy to talk to.

That is, if you don't have an agenda. Women specifically can pick up rather instantly if a guy is trying to, well, pick them up. And people in general can tell if someone is trying to get something from them. However, if your agenda is in their favor, say, simply to make them smile or spice up their day, they're much more likely to be engaging.

I'm a pretty readable person. I wear my heart on my sleeve, I'm a terrible liar, and therefore, everyone can tell where I'm coming from. But by changing my goal from "making a new friend for me" or "getting a date out of this girl for me" to "I just want to give (key word) this person someone to talk to", the whole dynamic changes. Most people really like it when honest people just want to talk to them and find out about them! People like it when they are considered interesting by another human being who isn't trying to get something out of them.

With this attitude in mind, people have even started to talk to me first instead of me having to initiate. Which is further proving the point to me that when you change your actions, your whole world changes.

Now, is it possible to get something out of someone without "having an agenda" or being dishonest? Yes. They just have to want to give it to you. Which brings me back to the beginning of this post...

...last night I was not only successful in being completely spontaneous myself, but I was successful in helping another person be completely spontaneous.

I'm on okCupid, the free online dating service. After work and the gym, I came home, logged on, and decided to see if I could find someone new and interesting. And I did! Her name was Francesca, and I sent her a brief message that caught her attention and prompted her to begin chatting with me.

From the moment we started chatting, I was on my A-game. I don't know where it came from, but my witty banter had her laughing and intrigued, and about fifteen minutes into the conversation, I said to her "Hey, I've got an idea."

"What's that?" she replies.

"How about we both drop whatever it is we were going to do tonight and go get a beer or glass of wine on this gorgeous fall evening?"

Mind you she's a first year law student and has a shit-ton of studying to do for finals. She gave me the bait, "I want to, but you're going to have to persuade me."

She gave me the okay. She wanted to be spontaneous. She wanted to do something fun and exciting, and she wanted the push from me. So I gave it to her. Five more minutes of convincing and she still wasn't sure, but she was on the edge. Alas, I pulled out the big guns. I said: "Here's what I have to do. My phone number is 215-XXX-XXXX. I'm getting in the shower right now, and I'll be in Rittenhouse Square at 8pm. Hope to see you there."

I got a text from her a moment later saying "You are utterly infuriating!" I laughed, because I had won. In twenty minutes, I had a girl who had never spoken to me before and was sitting in yoga pants with her cat, knitting and studying law, to hop in the shower and come meet me for a date.

She arrived in Rittenhouse promptly at 8pm. We had an awesome date. I hadn't had a victory that flawless since OAOA.

I know now, though, how to manage expectations and not only simply enjoy the time I had with Francesca, but know that if that's all the time I get, there will be plenty more good times ahead.

If I continue to be spontaneous. :)

-Spontaneous K

My Strange Dreams

Note to self: Do not eat greasy foods prior to going to sleep. Morning heart burn is not fun.

 

This is the second time in maybe three weeks where I've had heartburn, and I've never had heartburn before in my life. Shit lasts like four hours too. New ailments always add to the already overwhelming notion that I'm "getting older." Bah. I'm in my prime, damnit! (As I throw my back out).

 

A quick update to my assignment of talking to strangers and stepping out of my comfort zone before I get into the topic of today's post.

 

Actually, after writing that sentence, I realized a shorter name for it would be helpful. Alas, I dub it: The Spontaneity Project

 

I missed a couple days in there because I wasn't feeling so fantastic. Which technically means I'm back to Day 1. And I'm okay with that, because I'm having fun with the assignment. Yesterday, once again back in the cafeteria at work, I recognized a girl who I believed either went to high school or college with me. I couldn't remember. But that didn't matter! Because I went to talk to her anyway. It turned out she went to college with me, studied in the broadcasting department, and we spent a little time trying to figure out exactly where we'd crossed paths. After that, we discussed what we've been doing since college, and I'm fairly certain I got a couple minutes of conversing in there. It didn't lead to anything...no phone numbers, no lunches, but once again, that's okay. The whole point was to just talk to people. I asked Edward later if that counted...since technically I sorta-kinda-but-not-really knew the girl before hand, even though I'd never had a conversation with her before in my life. Edward said it counts. So if he says it counts, it counts! I realize, however, that I'd still like to challenge myself to more unknown peoples. The future has much to behold.

 

Anyways, onward! Dreams. They're strange, right? You've had 'em. We've all had 'em. Some of you dream in color, some of you don't. Some of you only dream in images, some of you only dream in sounds. Some of you lucidly dream (as do I), that is, you know that you're dreaming and can control the dreamscape around you. Those are awesome. Some of you claim you don't dream at all, but that's poppycock, you just stink at remembering them.

 

Dreams have enamored and mystified people since the beginning of time. They are thought to be omens, or your subconscious letting you know what you need to take care of. They are thought to be means to contact those who have passed on from another world. What do I think dreams to be?

 

An adventure in sleeping!

 

I'll tell you why, because I can't think that shit up anymore while I'm conscious. I could when I was a child. I could think up things that, were I to think of them as an adult, you'd think I had problems. But I was allowed to think those things, because I was a child! This vivid imagination of mine accounted for my wanting to write. I wanted the worlds I saw in my head to be real. As I got older, though, real life bullshit took over my brain and my imagination has been halted. Fortunately...

 

This is not the case in dream world.

 

I'm thinking of starting a dream journal, because seriously, I'll often be in the middle of a dream and think, "This would make a great story!" Then I'll wake up and not write it down, and say to myself "God damnit, K, you forgot it!"

 

The other night I had a dream where I was on a multi-tier stage in front of a large crowd, and somehow I had gotten a hold of a microphone and started belting "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga. And I sounded goooooood. I was dancing, and the crowd got into it, and then all of a sudden, I'm dancing and singing along WITH Lady Gaga...very closely. I don't even find Lady Gaga attractive (for LOTS of reasons) but all was good in the dream! Anyway, I never would've thought that situation up while awake and staring at my database here at work. Not exactly an atmosphere conducive for honing your imagination.

 

Last night I had a dream that I remembered so well that I actually did want to write a story about it. I found myself back in time. I don't know how I got there, but I knew I was back in time, that I was younger, however I still remembered everything that was going to happen in the future. I was surrounded by all the people I used to be friends with before life and drama happened, and I found myself warning everyone of who they would become and what would become of us, and what we could do to stop it. Nobody believed I was from the future and that what I was saying was true.

 

It was such a profound dream, one most likely about my wanting to change what has already happened and not being able to come to terms with it. What's great about it is that my brain told it to me in such an interesting way that I now want to develop it into something more concrete, so I can share the lesson with the world.

 

Hence why I should start a dream journal. :) What about you guys? What are your dreams like? And dream journalers out there? Hey! Maybe I'll start a DREAM BLOG! Oooh, that's fun. The cogs are turning. :)

 

-Spontaneous K

[Guest Post] The Best Thing About Being a Blogger

ATTENTION [My Own Voice Over] READERS! THIS IS A BLOG SWAP! I PRESENT TO YOU YOUR HOST TODAY: GINGERELLA! Please check out her blog at http://gingerellaj.blogspot.com/

 

Blogging's not for everyone right?

Wrong.

And I'll tell you why. Because blogging has got to be one of the most uplifting, smile-instigating, laughter-inducing, tear-jurking, real-world-escaping, and heart-wrenching acitivies I have ever had the chance to encounter and partake in. And it must have one of the most friendly and accepting communities going!
I'm not sure I could pick just one thing about blogging that I love:

 

• the excitement while waiting to fire up my Google reader
• peeking into people's lives and sharing in what they have chosen to share with me
• taking the time to offer my congratulations, sympathies and words of advice without desiring a single thing in return having favourites!
• when blogging crosses my mind quite a few times a day
• that blogging has become one the main reasons I use (and sometimes feel I need) the internet!
• finding new friends I would never have had the chance to know otherwise
• friends I've made from across the other side of the world and on my doorstep

I think people often get the wrong idea that blogging is egocentric and selfish but to me, blogging wouldn't be the same without the interaction; the reason I started blogging in the first place. It has given me so many chances to do things that, albeit not astonishing, have spiced up my life, including; 

 

• blog swapping and meeting lovely Spontaneous K! Even if it does mean you have to put up with my dribble when what you wanted, and were really expecting today, was Phildelphia's answer to JD!
• my first blogger meet-up! I'd resigned myself to probably never attending one. But later this month I get to meet up some bloggers from my local blogging community. I'm excited but also quite nervous, but it's still cool!
• sharing things with you, e.g. my photography, that I might not otherwise share with plenty of 'friends' in my life

But that's not all, folks! The icing on the cake is even after a year, my blogging journey has only just begun. There's still so much I want to do; more blog swapping, vlogs, meet-ups, giveaways, question times, to announce milestones in my life like if when I get my doctoral degree, get engaged, married, have children, become a grandma! I'm in it for the long haul, I'm not going anywhere...

...whether blogging knows it or not, or even likes it, I think we just made a pinky promise?!

 

 

Day 1: Knocking Down The Walls

Edward was right. When I don't want to do something, I put up walls. And then I wonder why nothing ever changes. But something is changing now. Because I'm choosing to notice the walls I'm putting up, and I'm choosing to tear them down.

 

I'm going to consider yesterday Day Zero. I could've gotten my requisite couple minutes of conversing time with the opposite sex in, but I wasn't quite sure where to begin. It was a beautiful evening, I cleaned myself up, and I walked out into the city...

 

I had no clue where I was going.

 

I walked around the block...and then another block...trying to find somewhere to go, somewhere to walk into where it wouldn't seem apparent that the only reason I'm out right now is to find some woman to talk to. I didn't want to go into a coffee shop or a pizza place or anything like that because then I'd have to buy something and end up with food I didn't want, much like sushi incident.

 

I felt like a shark. I realized that no matter where I went, I wasn't confident in myself enough to pretend like I was there for another reason. It would be written all over my face that I'm approaching someone specifically. This wasn't natural.

 

So I went home and said to myself, "Ok. At least you went out with the intention. Tomorrow, you begin."

 

I woke up in a shitty mood. I had trouble getting out of bed, and I was late to work. Thoughts bombarded me...thoughts about Kate, thoughts about OAOA, thoughts about Firefly, thoughts about what the hell I have to go through in order to feel better, thoughts of not wanting to. Boom, those were my walls. I could see them, but they were making me feel a certain way that was difficult to pull myself out of. I knew I had to take action, but I was afraid. I was always skeptical when I was told that people stay miserable because it's comfortable. Why would anyone do that? Feeling miserable blows! Well, I'm finding out that it's because feeling miserable is actually what we're used to, and feeling the terror of going outside your comfort zone is worse than the misery. So we stick with the misery.

 

I knew, though, that if I pushed through...there wasn't anything to be afraid of. The only thing I was afraid of was myself. Not the girls, not the rejection or possible humiliation, but my own judgment, my own feelings of worthlessness and failure that I bestow upon myself in those situations. It's up to me to realize that I make myself feel the way I do, not them.

 

Having been late to work, I didn't have time to stop at Dunkin Donuts to get my waffle sandwich like I usually do. Instead, I went up to the cafeteria about an hour into work to get some breakfast. This seemed like a perfect opportunity for me to interact. I'm there getting breakfast. No harm done. Just talk to someone!

 

As I was paying for my food, I noticed the attractive woman behind me had a bagel. I like bagels. First thought that jumped into my head: "Ask her if the bagels are any good."

 

I didn't get a chance to ask while in line. So, I waited at the silverware/napkin stand, meandering around for a moment, for her to come over. When she did, I asked her the question. She responded with a short smile, "Yeah, they're pretty good..."

 

...and she practically RAN off.

 

Damn. That was, like, two seconds. I have a long way to go.

 

I was going the same way as her, so eventually we ended up in the elevator, just the two of us. I'm considering once more how to start up a conversation, considering this was a great opportunity, but my mind was going blank. She seemed so short with me that I didn't want to bother her.

 

The elevator DINGED. It was neither of our floors. A sweet older woman in her fifties entered the elevator, saying hi to both of us, despite not knowing who we were. I thought to myself, "Fine. I'll talk to her. She's willing to put herself out there."

 

We had maybe thirty seconds of conversation about how she just got back into town and missed the hot weather, but accidentally left the heat on in her place, and that's when I noticed something interesting. The older woman was talking to both of us, me and the woman my age...but the woman my age who had snubbed me earlier was equally as uninterested in talking to the older woman as she was with me. When the elevator doors opened, the younger woman went back to her rush and darted off the elevator.

 

So what's so interesting about that? I took it personally at first, but I didn't have to. Because something else was going on in this woman's life, and she wasn't interested in talking to anyone.

 

What a great lesson on my first day. Not to take things personally, because I never know what's going through the other person's mind. She could have been in trouble at work, late, ill, whatever. Anything. It had nothing to do with my bagel question.

 

After wishing the older women a nice weekend, I was feeling pretty darn good. I didn't know if that counted or not, since she's not in my age range, but I told myself I wouldn't normally talk to her, so sure, it counts! The point is to step out of my comfort zone. What was even more amazing was that even though I had gotten about a couple minutes of conversing in, I didn't want to stop. I felt energized. I wanted to keep talking to people!

 

So I did!

 

When I got back down to my floor, I went straight to the kitchen to heat up my breakfast and make some coffee. I talked to three different guys in there, one I'd spoken to briefly in the past, and two I'd never spoken to in my life. All were very friendly. And we talked about nothing in particular. I asked the one if he had ever gotten breakfast upstairs and he got really passionate about how good their oatmeal is. I talked to the other about how happy I am that it's Friday. And all I said to the third, was "I'm excited about this," as I walked away with my hot food and coffee. He genuinely laughed and returned with "Great way to start the day."

 

While I'm going to keep my focus on talking to women in my age group, because that's my ultimate challenge, I'm going to also talk to people in general. I felt a rush after it was all done, because I was taking action and making change. I could do it.

 

And all those negative emotions I woke up with simply dissolved.

 

I'd say this is an excellent first day. And tonight I'm headed to a beef and beer charity event where I will know NO ONE. A great learning opportunity.

 

-Spontaneous K

 

 

My New Name Is Michael

I had a not so strange feeling of deja vu on Tuesday when Kate canceled on me due to pink eye. It was the same feeling I felt a few weeks prior when I had this incredibly awesome day with OAOA planned and then her sister was unfortunately struck by a vehicle while riding her bike. In my brain, I stood there shaking my fist at the universe, screaming on the inside "This isn't FAIR!"

 

And why is it not?

 

I wanted to protest. I felt myself slipping back into that negative pattern of "Fuck you world. If I can't do what I want, then I won't do anything."

 

But I wasn't going to let myself do it again. I realized very quickly what was happening, and a friend even decided to bring it to my attention as well by responding to my childish facebook status sarcastically thanking the universe for not cutting me a break. My friend wrote "The universe is probably writing on its wall write now about how K has unreasonable expectations of it."

 

Touche.

 

He was right. I was angry because what I wanted to happen didn't happen. For 24 hours, I ran through the possibility of an awesome date with this girl, leading into an awesome honeymoon phase of a relationship, and then into a serious, full-blown couple. I had weeks to months of our future already planned. And when the date didn't happen, the whole thing came crashing down as an impossibility. It wasn't just a date I was losing, it was a whole future! No wonder I was so distraught!

 

So...Lesson #1 from this experience: Managing expectations. Eliminating outcome based thinking. Focus on the task at hand and what's right in front of me instead of unreasonable futures. That way, not only is "failure" less likely, but so is disappointment.

 

I label it #1, because I learned a few things through this, things I probably could have learned when I went through this with OAOA. But sometimes you need to make a mistake more than once before it finally hits you.

 

Lesson #2: Stop waiting for the universe to provide me with what I want. Another reason I got so upset when the date didn't work out is because I didn't know when I'd get another date, and when I did, I'd have to start all over from the beginning again. That's always frustrating and scary. For most of my life, I've sat around waiting for the universe to provide me with the perfect circumstance to meet a woman. I've been waiting for that serendipitous moment where we're placed at the same place at the same time and I have just the right thing to say that is going to spark the greatest relationship of my life. I've been waiting for that house party where I'm comfortable enough to talk to someone, that friend to introduce me to someone, the job that's going to allow me to work with the right girl...

 

I've always HATED it when people have told me "Stop looking for it. It will come when you least expect it."

 

I'm almost convinced at this point that it's bullshit. That moment isn't coming. The universe isn't going to give me anything. If I want it, I have to do what other successful people do when they wanted something. I have to GO OUT AND GET IT. That means stepping out of my little comfort bubble and exposing myself to failures and rejections.

 

At first, I told myself I was going to ask out one girl every single day. I would put myself out there, find a random girl I was attracted to, and push myself to ask her out. Eventually, I wouldn't fear doing it, it would feel natural, and not only would I learn how to talk with women, but I wouldn't worry so much if I got turned down, because I know exactly when the next opportunity is coming. Whenever I choose it.

 

However, after I walked in and out of my apartment three times and into the sushi place below and bought some sushi that I didn't even want in order to psych myself up to talk to a pretty girl sitting by herself...I realized maybe I was aiming too high too quickly. Asking out a girl every single day is a high order.

 

I consulted with my friend Edward, my former roommate from Los Angeles and someone I trust with all my heart. He's the closest thing to a pick up artist that I know. He can pick up a woman any day of the week and be making out with her within hours. I've seen him do it, and it's pretty ridiculous. He's been wanting to show me how to be more comfortable in my own skin for years now, but I've been too afraid to step out of my bubble. Now, though, I felt like I was finally ready for his advice.

 

He told me that for my first assignment, I have to talk to one girl for a couple minutes every day for 21 days straight. If I miss a day, I have to start over from day one. I have to do it for 21 days in a row for it to become a habit. So I agreed. He also told me to change my name, as I'm transforming myself and I need to put my old name behind me, since there are negative connotations attached to it. I wasn't so sure about changing my name. I didn't even know what to change it to. I told him that on my blog, I call myself "Spontaneous K"...and maybe "K" would be a really cool way to introduce myself to women. He disagreed and told me to go with Michael, my middle name. I argued with him, telling him that I thought "K" was better.

 

He responded with "This is why I'll never be able to work with you. You put up walls when there's something you don't want to do."

 

He was right. And I realized it immediately. This wasn't the first time I've done this either. So I said to him: "You're right. I'll go with Michael. I trust you."

 

He was excited. I was excited. I'm going to document each day here on my blog, and also give Edward a written summary of what I did and said so he can evaluate and I can learn. I'm ready to do something different so I can finally be different.

 

Lesson #3: Eliminate the word "should" from my vocabulary. I actually suggest that everyone do this. The word "should" creates not only a feeling of pressure and guilt, but it creates an unnecessary dichotomy in the mind, where whatever you should have done or should be doing is the only "right" thing, and ever other option is completely wrong. This creates instantaneous failure. And rarely is the world so cut and dry. Rarely is there one "right" thing to do. It's better to ask yourself? "What would I like to do? What's the respectful thing to do? What's the compassionate thing to do? How would the other person feel about this?"

 

Should will only get me into trouble, and HAS gotten me into trouble. Like "Kate shouldn't have gotten pink eye. We should have gone on this date." or "OAOA's sister shouldn't have been hit by that car. I should've gotten to see OAOA." By saying those things, I'm making every other scenario a complete disaster. That's no way to think.

 

So...I'm going to think differently. As Michael. And you'll see my progress here.

 

-K

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I swear to god the universe hates me.

Kate canceled due to an acute case of Pink Eye which has kept her home from work all day. No sign of rescheduling.

Just...fuck.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Over-Analyzation and A Pastry Chef - The Possible Start of Something New

I'm alright. Yesterday's post was a little dramatic and panicky, but I'm alright. I took a break while I was at work to give Katie a call so I could explain my crisis to a friend, and she told me, in so many words: "Dude, you can't think about all that stuff."

 

She's right. Mostly because the questions to which I'm seeking answers either a.) don't have answers, or b.) the answers are whatever I want them to be.

 

That's a shit-ton of a pressure for someone who isn't ready to have those questions answered. So Katie's simple solution was "Accept that you don't have the answers, and don't worry about it. I mean, sure, you might want to try and be more aware of what you're like when you're meeting new people or something like that, but thinking about what you look like when you're eating soup? That's too much."

 

That sounds out of context, but it's not. I had a moment at Passover dinner the other night where I was eating soup and I suddenly became extraordinarily self-aware and thought to myself "What am I doing right now? Without even thinking, I'm taking a spoon and lifting hot liquid into my mouth and swallowing it into my stomach so I can not be hungry. That's kind of weird."

 

Yes, I agree, it's too much to be thinking about.

 

Alas, I continued about my day as happily as I could. I went to the gym, I felt great, I developed ideas for how to continue my screenplay, the weather was gorgeous, so I tried my very best to just...be.

 

And then I got one of those phone calls that changes your whole day...possibly even your whole life...yet you don't realize it until much later.

 

On the way home from work, I got a phone call from my friend Richie. I hadn't talked to him in a while, something that I felt bad about, and I thought he may think I didn't want to be friends, so I was happy to see him calling me. When I answered, he sounded quite happy, which was great. After asking me how I was, he proceeded with "So, you want to hear something crazy?"

 

"Always," was my response. He continued on to warn me that this was really crazy, and while I couldn't imagine how crazy it could possibly be, I was ready for it. However, right before I gave him a chance to tell me, the craziest thing I could think of popped into my brain. And my intuition was right. "You're getting married."

 

"Yup!"

 

I freaked out on the street, in a happy way of course. Richie is someone I've known since I was 13, and we've both had some really shitty women problems. I thought he and the girl he had been dating had only been together for about 6 months, but it was coming up on a year. So, when he told me that he was getting married, I was ecstatic. What made me even more happy is that despite all the "woe is me" that I do, especially when I find that others are in serious relationships (i.e. my twin sister), I was truly, genuinely happy for Richie. There wasn't a tinge of jealousy. I couldn't get over how amazing that was for him, because I know he's struggled like I have.

 

Here's the kicker. The girl he's marrying he met on okCupid, a free online dating website. I've been on eHarmony...paying...for 10 months now with obviously no luck. Prior to that, I've tried them all...Match.com, JDate, Plentyoffish, you name it, I've tried it. And PAID for it. One of the reasons I avoided the free sites was because there were a lot of spammers, scammers, and people who weren't really serious about looking for someone. Richie's story, however, made me think twice about okCupid, and he said to me with as much conviction as he could "Kev, get off eHarms and get on okCupid."

 

So I did. And I ended up having an hour long conversation with a gorgeous 27-year old pastry chef named Kate who lives eight blocks away from me and has a predilection toward Jewish boys. We have a date tonight. And I hardly slept because I was so excited. I was excited because it was...easy. We started talking, and it just didn't stop. It felt right. And for the first time, I wasn't thinking to myself "That was too easy, something's going to go wrong," or "That was too easy, there's gotta be a catch," I was thinking "That was really easy, the way that it should be. And I deserve this."

 

I'll let you all know how it goes. :)

 

-Spontaneous K

My Existential Crisis

Remember when I saw that existential crisis approaching and I had that JD-esque fantasy of my brain ejecting itself from my skull to avoid said oncoming crisis?

 

Yeah, well, unfortunately my brain did not eject itself and I'm currently there...in crisis mode.

 

By nature, I am curious. I question the world around me, I like to figure out how things work so I can understand them better. I just want to understand. However, the older I get and the more complicated life becomes, not only do the questions pile on exponentially but their answers become more and more vague. I'm discovering that the more you understand, the more there actually is to understand. You answer one question only to unearth fifteen more, each just as mind-boggling as the one you just answered (that is, if you truly trust that you've answered it in the first place).

 

I have questions. A lot of them.

 

Who am I? How did I get where I am? Where am I going? What am I supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to be doing anything? What is my purpose? Does anybody have a purpose? Is this the way that life should be? Should life be any specific way? Can I change? What can I change into? 

 

I've asked myself these questions before, but this post-OAOA reflection brought about by several friends pointing at me and asking "Who are you without someone?" and me being unable to answer it has catapulted my thoughts into an ocean of uncertainty.

 

Does this happen to everyone? Is this normal for my age? Is it happening to me early? Is this happening to me too late? Where do I stand in comparison to everyone else? What does it mean to be happy? What am I searching for? Is it outside of me or inside of me?

 

What the fuck is going on?

 

I look back at my life and feel like I've lived about seven different lives. What happened to those? How did those add up to where I am and who I am now? I am beyond puzzled. Everything I look at in my life seems foreign. The people, the places, the sights, the sounds, they're right here in front of me, they're familiar, yet they're distant and unwelcoming. I recognize the faces of my friends and family but when I look deeper I find myself asking "Who are they? When did they become who I'm looking at right now?"

 

The people, the objects, the ideas that I once had that I believed defined me, they don't exist in my life anymore, so now I'm lost. And I feel like one of the reasons I'm desperately searching for a significant other is because I'm DYING for someone I trust to tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing, simply because I don't trust myself to answer any of the questions I've poised here in this post.

 

I'm becoming keenly aware of my own mortality. Not only do I know my days are limited, but it feels like I'm getting swept away by the raging river of time, faster and faster, and that my limited days are actually coming to and end rather quickly.

 

It feels like panic. It feels like a crisis. It feels like every second that I sit here trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing or feeling, I'm wasting.

 

I'm an adult and I don't feel like one. I'm jealous of my nephew because my mother gives him the attention that I want. I'm 25 and I still want attention from my mother.

 

I'm supposed to be flying, soaring, happy, full-grown and on my own. But I'm not. And I'm not allowed to depend on her or anyone else anymore. I have to depend on myself. But I don't trust myself because I don't know who I am or what I want or what I'm capable of.

 

I have no fucking clue where to go from here.

 

-K

My Absence

I feel like a gopher peeking my head out of its hole to make sure everything is safe before I come out again.

 

*wind blows silently*

 

All's good.

 

I know. I've taken a short break from blogging around these parts. And I spoke to my roommate Jess about it. I told her how every since I said my final goodbye to OAOA (which I've held strong for a week now, doing good!), I haven't had much to say. My life, I felt, wasn't particularly exciting or interesting enough to write about on here. That may or may not be true. I'm sure I could've found something noteworthy to write about had I really sat down to try, but truth be told...I really had little to say.

 

But Jess assured me that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. My life had no drama. That's ok.

 

And after a weekend of listening to a bunch of friends rant and cry to me about their relationship problems, it struck me that being single definitely has its perks. I have this notion in my mind that a relationship (the right one) will be this perfect, blissful experience, where we're always happy and life is fantastic and nothing can stop us.

 

Quite romantic. Quite unrealistic. Even the most loving of couples have their epic fail moments, the times where you wish you truly weren't "Him and Her" but just "Him" or "Her."

 

The idea of being in a relationship has become even more crucial in my mind because I'm unconsciously racing with my siblings. I'm the only one in my family not married or on the verge of getting married. I haven't even started the race. I'm still at the starting line, waiting for a partner to come along so we can bolt and catch up. What does it mean for me that I'm the only one in my family that doesn't have a significant other that wants to spend the rest of their life with me? Does that mean there's something inherently wrong with me?

 

No. It actually doesn't mean anything. It means I'm taking my own path, and my own time. And from an outsider's perspective...my perspective that is...my siblings look happy. Their lives look together. My mother, however, reassures me that none of my siblings lives are perfect, and they still come to her with all their rants, raves, and frustrations. I was actually talking to my writing partner, Josh, the other night about how I look at my older sister and am SO jealous that she's happily married and has a beautiful nine month old child. Then I started thinking about what it would be like to go to bed terrified every night that something is going to happen to your child, that this person's life is absolutely dependent on your maturity, responsibility, and cohesion. Sure, the child gives you unconditional love, but that love comes at a cost...the cost of your freedom. Your life is now your child's life.

 

And as much as I'd like a child at some point in my life, I know that I could not handle that right now, because I'm still learning how to completely take care of myself, and I'm still learning how to have healthy relationships with others.

 

So, when it all comes down to it...being single and without those responsibilities isn't bad. It's actually pretty great. I don't have a wife, I don't have a child, I don't have a mortgage, I don't even have a pet that I have to look after. I really am freer than I realize. Free to discover who I am and what I'm capable of.

 

And yesterday I discovered I'm slightly capable of forethought. I thought about this girl Melissa who I hadn't spoken to in maybe four months...she had gone to Pittsburgh for a while to do a rotation for medical school and I was wondering if she returned. Not three hours later, I didn't immediately realize that I was standing behind her in line at a Wendy's.

 

 

Weeeeeird.

 

She declined on lunch with me. Still single. :-P

 

-Spontaneous K

My REAL Best Friend

I actually have a real best female friend. One who is genuinely there for me. She doesn't just listen to me when I'm down, she lifts me up. And I do the same for her.

 

Her name is Katie (Sorry MFIE. Her name is legally Katherine, but I've always called her Katie). Our story is a fun one. Lemme take you back, circa 2000.

 

Oh my god, I'm suddenly a sophomore in high school, and holy hell am I a nerd. I have no sense of style, I probably weigh about 120lbs, I wore a back brace (and braces on my teeth), I wrote a fantasy novel, and I played video games all day. I was so much a nerd that I had two siblings in the same school as me (one being my twin, the other being my "epitome of cool" brother), and most people didn't know there was a third one of us...me.

 

I was quiet. The intelligent type. People cheated off my vocab quizzes. I let them.

 

My twin sister and my brother owned the school. They were high school royalty. Their groups of friends were the types you saw in movies...uber attractive, amazing at sports, the super elite. They only dated each other. Kim, my twin, was best friends with a lot of these untouchable women...namely one. Katie. And Katie was truly untouchable. She dated a guy throughout high school who was crazy insane, much worse than OAOA was for me, but she kept running back to him for safety.

 

Whenever Katie would come over, my heart would stop. It was your typical high school crush. What was amazing about Katie was that she was popular yet somehow NOT a bitch like my sister and the other girls could be. (Yes, my sister was, and still can be...a bitch. But I love her.)

 

Katie, unlike OAOA, never reciprocated feelings for me, despite my attempts, however, she was always so humble about it. She never made me feel like I was wrong or that we couldn't be friends because of how I felt. Ten years later...she was right.

 

In the beginning, it was hard because Kim was possessive. Katie was HER best friend, not mine at all. And Kim did what high school girls did when they felt threatened. She made shit up.

 

Kim would tell me that Katie didn't like me at all, she was just being nice, and was really annoyed that I ever tried to talk to her. I should just stop. This, naturally, made me very sad.

 

Until I was reassured by Katie that Kim was making shit up.

 

As we grew up, and the partying and the popularity contests became less important to Katie, and having someone to connect with and empathize with became more important, she gradually moved from being my sister's best friend to my best friend.

 

Kim was bitter for a while. But now, Katie is a friend of my entire family. She just goes through me the most.

 

I haven't mentioned Katie because seven months ago, just one month before I met OAOA, Katie moved to Chicago with her long-term, planning to marry, boyfriend. Life became a whirlwind for both of us.

 

But she's coming in to visit this weekend. I'll see her for the first time in seven months.

 

I am SO STOKED. :)

 

-Spontaneous K

 

 

 

 

Moving Onward. Seriously this time. I'm SERIOUS!

I'm proud of myself. Not because I cut ties again with OAOA, but because I feel confident this time, and I'm not allowing myself to grieve too much. Maybe it's because I've done it a bajillion times already that it just doesn't hurt as much...or perhaps it's because I've finally accepted and understood that it's toxic and doesn't work.

 

Whatever the case, a HUGE thanks to all my readers harsh but true words of wisdom. You all had your insights, and you were all right in your own ways.

 

Clap, clap, clap, clap, I love you all.

 

Especially since all my readers seem to be female? Why is this? Haha.

 

This isn't the first time I've learned this lesson, and it probably won't be the last. However, since I'm aware of my pattern, that means each time it happens, I should be able to stop it more quickly and efficiently, until I've worked it out. I'll find myself in a healthy relationship. I know I will. :)

 

In the mean time, I have amazing news. I had a stroke of creative genius on the way to work this morning...and it felt so good that it almost made me feel like I had amazing sex the night before.

 

Remember My Troubled Protagonist? 

 

She's not TROUBLED ANYMORE! Seriously, when it hit me this morning, I almost froze and leaped straight up into the air in celebration. One simple idea cracked the code to my plagued story, and the beats shot through my mind like rapid-fire. I was back baby. This story is MINE.

 

Ben and I also started hitting the gym yesterday, and shall be returning today, and three times a week every week until we're strong and energized. Healthy habits for a healthy mind. :) Things aren't so bad after all.

 

But you guys (and myself, deep down) already knew that.

 

-Spontaneous K

One Last Step...

"I'm sorry for getting angry at you and writing to you what I did on Saturday. You're there for me as much as you can be, and I didn't respect that. I still have expectations of us that I can't shake. I'm still angry and sad that things didn't turn out the way I wanted them to for us. I'm still upset that you're not there for me the way I want you to be, but that's not your fault.
 
I never wanted to admit that you and I were just two people that don't mesh...because I thought we did so well in the beginning that I couldn't understand why we can't now. I care about you so much that in my mind that meant it had to work somehow. But I'm learning that just because you care about someone doesn't necessarily mean you're allowed to have them in your life.
 
We've both fucked up. I never meant to hurt you and I'm sure that you never meant to hurt me. Through this whole thing, I'm sure we just wanted the best for each other and we simply aren't mature enough yet to be able to handle one another.
 
I love you. I mean that. Which is why I should try my very best to let you go and be free of my expectations and my wanting to care for you.
 
Once again, I'm sorry for everything, Ali. I know you're sorry too. Not everything gets a happy ending. I hope we can both find the strength to let the other go in whatever way we need to.
 
Yours,
Kevin"

 

For those who don't know...my name's Kevin. And that was my apology to OAOA. I kind of thought I was going to get some cheers from my readers for telling her off...fact of the matter is, I was wrong to do it. We were both wrong. A long time ago.

 

This is being an adult, right?

 

Goodbyes suck. Every time.

 

-Spontaneous K

MFIE Was Right...

I have no idea who I am. This occurred to me moments ago. I knew that I haven't written a post since Saturday...two days...and I haven't missed two days since I started the blog almost two months ago.

 

I realized that I have very little to talk about besides my plight for a significant other. At least nothing I think others would find as interesting as my hopelessly romantic search.

 

I truly have defined myself by my story of finding "the one." And I have no freakin' clue what to write about on here...at least right now...if I'm not writing about that.

 

Which sort of means I don't know what I'm doing in life if I'm not doing that. And I don't know what I'm doing with this blog right now.

 

Existential Crisis Reached.

 

-Spontaneous K

Every Reader I Have Is Going To Love This: OAOA - The Final Battle

Well, you all saw it coming. I knew deep down that it was coming. I couldn't keep living by OAOA's rules without my emotions getting the best of me. I wasn't allowed to be myself. I was giving away all of my power. The friendship was on her terms.

And I got angry. It was over something small...but it meant something big.

I'd called her three days in a row. And she never got back to me. After I answer every text she sends me, every phone call, every emergency, every call for help...I can't even get a return phone call. And it really...really pissed me off. I called her out on it, and at first she was confused as to why I was angry, and then when she realized what I was angry about, she said "This is retarded."

That's when I flipped.

I said to her, "First off, as someone who is your friend, and who cares about you, don't you ever tell me that the way that I feel is retarded."

She promptly apologized, and then went on to listen to me rant, as calmly as I could, about how I've been acting perfectly for her, I've been the best that I could possibly be, I've abided by all her rules and requests, respecting her space and her feelings, and that it's frustrating and hurtful that when I call, when I need her, she isn't there.

She did what she always did. She sat there and she listened, not responding, not defending herself, she just said she was "Sorry and didn't know what to say."

It's like talking to a wall. I kept trying to get something out of her, but she wouldn't budge. She went on to say "I'm getting off the phone, I'm not going to sit here and let you say things that make me feel like shit all day. Why does everything have to be so drawn out and dramatic with you?"

I threw it back at her, saying that she had no right to call me dramatic when her whole life is drama and she lets me know ALL about it.

"I said I was sorry, what else is there to say?" she said to me.

Nothing. I knew her apology meant nothing, so I let her hang up. But I was still angry. I wasn't satisfied. So...

I wrote her this email:

"You have no idea how cold you can be. You have little respect for how I feel or how I work, and things get drawn out because you refuse to work on them, you just block them out or run from them.

I've put myself out there for you, and I can't keep being your crutch when things go wrong in your life if you're going to consciously keep a distance from me because your own insecurities make you feel like shit.

I've changed to try and make our friendship work because I think it's worth it, but you've hardly made any sacrifices.

It's selfish, and it's hurt me.

If you don't think you can honor how I feel, then don't tell me "I'm sorry, I'll try to change" when you don't intend to.

You've disappointed me so many times, but I keep coming back because when you're smiling and you're happy, you're amazing, but when you let your insecurities get the best of you, you forget how to treat people.

I've tried nothing but my best for you, and it hasn't been enough.

You never opened up, you never let me know how you were feeling, I've always had to guess or pry it out of you, which is why I act so erratic, because I never know what's going on.

I've tried to focus on what's good about us and how to strengthen that, and you've chosen to focus on what doesn't work and how to avoid it.

No matter how many times I say I care, or do things to show that I do, you never believe them. Why is it so hard to believe that I just want you to be happy, and that's why it hurts so much when you make me sad?"

And I finally felt better. It was like I was drunk and I vomited, and the sickness went away. It was my emotional vomit. I expected not to hear from her after that. However, I got a text an hour later: "Hey, do you want to hang out?"

I didn't know if she had read my email or not. But I agreed.

When I met her, I asked her if she had read it, and she said yes. Said she deserved it. And we hung out for several hours, not talking about what had happened. When it was all over, nothing was different. Nothing had changed. The time we spent together wasn't even good. It was awkward, a lot of it quiet.

When she left, all I could think was "You're still not off the hook. I'm still angry." She hadn't done anything special to redeem herself. She hadn't done anything to truly show that she cared. Coming out and hanging out with me after I wrote her that email took courage, yes, but it wasn't enough.

As I watched her ride off on her bike, I thought to myself "You'll never change. You'll never do anything to show me you care that even comes close to the things that I've done for you. And that's why this is never going to work. That's why this time it's really over."

Yeah, I'm sad. Yeah, she probably thinks she made things somewhat okay. But the fact of the matter is, I've wasted enough time thinking about her and trying to prove that she's worth all this. The pain and the struggle has become my choice now, and I choose for it to be over. It's time to find out who I am, heal a little, and open my heart up to someone else.

The universe doesn't end with a bang...it ends with a whimper.

It's foolish for me to believe I won't meet someone who I find more beautiful, or who I can connect better with, or have as much fun and create such wonderful memories with...

...because I always do.

-Spontaneous K

Who are YOU?!

I found myself asking this question TO myself in those days I laid in bed. Who the hell am I? What am I doing? Where am I going? What is my purpose?

 

Danger: Approaching existential crisis. Please eject promptly.

 

(See, if this were Scrubs, that would be a fantasy where JD's brain ejects from his body to avoid said existential crisis. I can still have fun!)

 

What I didn't expect was someone, namely MFIE, to ask me the same question when commenting on my most previous post. She wanted to know who I was. Not in the sense that she doesn't know who I am, but who I am without the pining interest for a significant other. Who was I...alone? It then occurred to me...how many other people want to know who I am too? How many other people, whether they were female love interests or not, have I been depending on to TELL ME who I am? Who I should be?

 

Well shit...a lot of fucking people. Particularly the people I'm having letting trouble go of in my past...because I thought they defined me. Does your past define you? I'm learning that:

 

No. It doesn't. But I certainly thought it did.

 

There is a rift in my memories. Pre-Firefly and Post-Firefly. I can barely remember significant details of things prior to Firefly UNLESS they revolve around some girl I wanted real bad. I remember my first crush ever.

 

I was 8. In Second Grade. Boy did I start early.

 

Her name was Stephanie. She was the most popular girl in second grade, she had flowing blonde hair, a perfect smile, perky blue eyes, and a score of beautiful friends who frolicked the playground, carefree, just being gorgeous. Even back then, at eight years old, I felt something, an attraction, a need. I was not popular. I wrote this girl notes I would never give to her, when I would try to speak to her no words would emerge...I remember one time I even won a goldfish at a school fair and I wanted to give it to her as a present. My mother even spoke to her mother and was going to drive me over to her house so I could give it to her.

 

But I spilled some of the water in the baggie, and filled it back up with water from the sink. The fish promptly died. I didn't know tap water was bad for fishies. This, as I can recall, is my first crash and burn. The phone call to her mother telling her the fish was dead was tragic.

 

I digress. It's true. My life, at least leading back to the age of eight, has been defined by a series of fruitless searches to find "the one". That perfect companion who would fill me up, give me purpose, and provide me with constant happiness. I've defined myself as a hopeless romantic who is hopelessly and perpetually single or in toxic arrangements, and that's where I'll stay if I continue to define myself as "searching" instead of "being".

 

None of you know this. I have a twin sister. We are nothing alike. We hardly speak unless she needs something. Fact of the matter is though, even before I was born, even IN THE WOMB, I was accompanied by someone, and I spent the first several years of my life with that someone. They say you're born alone and you die alone.

 

Well, I may die alone, but guess what. I wasn't born alone. And, according to an old therapist I once had, the fact that I'm a twin may link to my incessant need for "another half."

 

I wonder if other twins suffer from this problem?

 

I digress again. MFIE makes a fine point. She wants to know, and I want to know, who I am without the search. So, [My Own Voice Over] readers, despite being single for mostly ever, I still...

 

DECLARE INDEPENDENCE!

 

I am my own person. And yesterday when I posted that I felt creative...I meant it. I want to write. I want to draw. I want to digitally paint with my wacom tablet. I want to dance. I want to learn a martial art. I want to channel my energy to create (create being the root word of "creative") because that's what my mind was built to do. Not destroy itself by battering me all day with "I can't, I hate, I shouldn't, I won't, I'm afraid, What if, I'll never" and on and on and on...

 

If I don't express what's in my mind...no one will.

 

Thanks, Katie.

 

-Spontaneous K

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh Dear...

I missed a day. On an important storytelling moment such as my date with Pam. Not very blogger professional of me.

 

Well...first of all...I have nothing exciting to say about Pam. The date was rather blah...and while I found her quite attractive and fun, she did not feel the connection and decided we shouldn't have a second date. It only lasted an hour.

 

Anti-climactic if I do say so myself.

 

So, things suck with OAOA...what else is new...things don't exist with Pam...c'est le vie (I don't know if I spelled that right)...and I was still so stuck in my bout of depression, paralyzed in bed, that I called the absolute one person I wanted to but knew I shouldn't since she hadn't responded to my plea for help weeks ago:

 

Firefly.

 

What I received was almost exactly what I expected. A cold, bitter, "I'm not the person you should be talking to anymore. There's nothing I can do for you. I'm sorry."

 

Crash. Burn.

 

Firefly is someone who took up almost a decade of my life, someone whom I define myself and my past by. And if there was ever closure...this was it. It was done. She didn't want to speak to me, not now, not ever, no matter how much I felt like death.

 

So what then? What do you do when you realize you have to let go of almost all of what you've defined yourself as?

 

This morning, I found myself paralyzed in bed once more by my onslaught of terrible thoughts about my life and my past and my future. And the closer it got to the time I needed to get out of bed and go to work, the more my heart started to pound, the more I wanted to scream and cry and just couldn't.

 

That's when I rolled over and grabbed a notebook I had tried writing in yesterday and hadn't. I was going to attempt one of my CBT exercises by draining the thoughts out of me by getting them onto paper. When I opened the notebook, I found a drawing I did yesterday while home by myself, caught up in my feelings…it was rather cartoony. It was me getting real angry and lifting my foot up to stomp on my heart that was laying on the floor, because I was so angry at it for making me feel this way. As gruesome as that sounds, since it was cartoony, it was actually pretty funny, and I thought to myself that I actually did a good job drawing it, and I stopped to think for a moment that I felt pride in my work, even though it wasn't bringing me money or fame.

 

What happened next was pretty incredible.

 

I decided to start writing my CBT exercise, but halfway into it, my thoughts shifted from being negative to being angry. Not angry at someone, or something, or even myself…but like my mother  had said to me many times before.

 

GET ANGRY AT IT.

 

For maybe fifteen to twenty minutes, I wrote, it didn't matter whether it was big or small, scribbled, legible, I wrote however the words felt like coming out, it didn't matter whether there was a rhyme or a reason, whether they were poetic or gibberish, I just kept writing and turning the pages and I felt all my anger and all my frustration leave me. I felt my strength come back, I was getting angry in a way that was good. I declared that I didn't want this anymore, I shouted to the page that this was over, everything was over, and I choose differently for my life, because it's mine, and I'm not living for anyone else.

 

And when it was all said and done, I couldn't believe how I felt. I felt better. I felt capable. And strangely enough, I felt creative and motivated.

 

For the first time, I channeled my energy. I channeled my emotions. I figured out how to get them out of me. And as I got dressed, exhilarated, and walked to work with my head held high, I wondered to myself, "If I can channel my emotions to break a bout of depression…what else can I channel my emotions into to do something great?"

 

My art. My goals. My relationships. My life.

 

My purpose. Which I had cried to my therapist yesterday about having none. If I wasn't loved, and I wasn't needed, then I had no purpose.

 

But that's not true. My purpose is to experience.

 

-Spontaneous K

A Quick Thank You

Blah. I know I've been really depressing lately, and nobody wants to read about the lulls of someone's life, I guess unless they can learn something from it. And I'm trying to pull some semblance of a lesson out of my moods.

 

Fact of the matter is, I do enjoy writing this blog very much, and despite doing basically nothing for several days, I've still managed to do this. That's got to count for something. And while I do write the blog for me, I also write it for my loyal readers, even if there are just a few of you. So, now that I've reached my 42nd post, I just wanted to say:

 

Thank you for reading [My Own Voice Over]. It truly means a lot to me.

 

I'll be back to my peppy, storytelling self in no time. And Pam texted me. She's stoked about tonight. :)

 

-Spontaneous K

I Have 11 Hours To Get My Shit Together, Part II

When I stepped outside to go to work this morning, the day hammered me immediately with a visual metaphor. As I faced north, I could see the beautiful orange sun rising in the east, cascading its light on the Philadelphia skyline, while in the west the dreary gray clouds that have pounded us with rain for the past five days were finally receding.

 

I could only hope my mental clouds would follow suit, as yesterday was no better than the day before, or the day before that.

 

Friends, when I spoke of My Mental Event Horizon, it was truly cautionary, and I've found that I didn't heed my own warning. Saturday, my disappointment of a day lost with OAOA catapulted me across that line where it was too deep to pull myself back out of, and now I'm in real trouble.

 

The past three days have been entirely unproductive and way too introspective, in a bad way. I've got this filter on my brain that isn't allowing me to see anything that's good, and it's evaluating all that's bad, over and over, going way back into my past and finding the worst of it.

 

This is my modus operandi: Find reasons to invalidate myself...seek others to re-validate myself.

 

Fuck, that is a crappy MO.

 

I can't let go of my past. (Okay, I don't want to let go of my past). I've been attempting to do so for the past decade, but the longer it takes, the more "past" I have to make up for, and I can't keep up. For whatever reason, I feel like I have to redeem myself for all the mistakes I've made, all the people and things I've lost, and all the damage I've done. And that's what I spent all last night thinking about...what's gone wrong in my life and why I haven't been able to fix it. And while I'm still trying to fix problems from 10 years ago, more problems keep piling on.

 

There are five people in my life that don't won't allow me to speak to them, two of which probably wish I was dead. Four of these people used to be my closest friends, people I grew up with, and one of them is Firefly, the most epic lover of them all.

 

What I can't figure out is why...

 

I mean, I know why. Intrinsically, I know what happened, but I don't understand why I wasn't given a chance. A chance to talk things out, a chance to change. Maybe I was given the chance. Maybe I was given multiple chances and I didn't even know it. Was I really that horrible? All I ever strove to be was a good person, so why did my best friends commit mutiny? What did I do that was so horrible?

 

It's haunted me and continues to haunt me. I keep asking myself if it really matters, though. Maybe it was just time for change, time for new best friends to enter the picture, which they have. But have I changed enough to not make the same mistake again? Why do I believe that if something was good in the past, that means it's sacred forever, even if it went sour?

 

Even the best of people are hated. Gandhi, Mother Theresa, The Dalai Lama, Martin Luther King...hated. And I'm no where near the level of wisdom and compassion they had, so it should come to no surprise to me that there are a few souls who wish ill upon me.

 

Ugh, my nose is running like it's getting paid for it, and I'm stuck in a rut, while in 11 hours I'm meeting Pam for the first time. I should be super excited and all I can think is "What am I about to subject this girl to?"

 

I gotta get my shit together.

 

One thing did occur to me during my long state of introspection, one enlightening idea. If my negative thoughts, my worry, my anxiety, my regret, my guilt and resentment, if all that crap can physically make my body feel a certain way...a bad way...then the opposite must also be true. When someone does something nice for us, or we succeed at something, or the object of our affection tells us that they love us, we fill up and feel fantastic. But they aren't making us feel that way, we ourselves are. Our own bodies are creating the sensations that are making us feel good...it's only because in that moment we believe great things about ourselves, due to some external stimuli, that we attribute it to that stimuli. The fact is, I should be able to make myself feel good at any moment, just like I can make myself feel bad at any moment.

 

Instead of waiting around for something to make me feel good.

 

11 hours. Here goes nothing.

 

-Spontaneous K

 

 

Make That 34 Hours

Pam canceled due to the weather and travel, in trade for a nicer evening tomorrow, a day where the sun's supposed to be shining.

 

The Universe is truly testing my patience, ha. Perhaps this is for the best though. I'll get some rest, knock down this cold, and show her all the great qualities I've got to offer.

 

-K

I Have 11 Hours To Get My Shit Together

"In London, I woke to the sun streaming through the window, and the resolve that I can make things better, largely by learning a little self-control over body and mind. It's my mind, and my body, dammit."

 

DAMMIT! *pounds table*

 

That was the first thing I woke to this morning, from my good friend at Proud Maisie. The perfect words of wisdom after a weekend of unwarranted self-pity. I suppose any weekend after what I dubbed "the greatest weekend thus far of 2010" in my post Dangerously On Again was going to have a lot to live up to, but I didn't expect it to be utter crap. Let's re-cap:

• Cabinet falls off wall in the middle of the night, makes loud crash, breaks all my dishes, makes me think a burglar is going to kill me.
• OAOA's sister is sent back to ER for the second time after being struck by car while on bike, OAOA is in distress, can't see me, my plans are ruined.
• Waste most of the day protesting in bed, paralyzed by disappointment.
• Pull myself up enough to go out with Dan, have panic attack, run back home, feel guilty, embarrassed, fearful that I'm developing a phobia of best friend.
• Wake up late Sunday, should have gone into work to do overtime, don't feel like it. Feel bad for feeling bad, call friend for solace, get bitch-slapped by a reality check.
• Cold developing half-way through the day.
• Wake up at 4am in the morning, can't get back to sleep, cold fully blown, acceptance that Monday is going to be crap.
• Manage another hour of sleep, get that nice message from Proud Maisie.
• It's still raining from Thursday.

It's our human nature to blame things, as I learned from my good friend at Raptitude. I'd like to blame the shitty weather for this awful weekend, I'd like to blame the asshole that hit Emily on her bike and drove off, I'd like to blame my illness for making it difficult to see my friend, but when it all comes down to it, there is no one to blame. We must take responsibility for everything that happens to us.

 

So I should allow this weekend to be a lesson to me. While it was not preferred that I did not get to see OAOA this weekend, it is my responsibility as a human being to find something else to fucking do. It is my responsibility to say to myself "Okay, this wasn't planned, I don't necessarily have to like it, but what can I do to make the best of this situation and how can I handle it like an adult and not a protesting five year old?"

 

No matter how long I laid in bed protesting, the Universe wasn't going to magically go "Okay, sorry I screwed up your plans, here's something really nice in return. My bad."

 

No. I have to go make something really nice happen. That's how it works. The Universe provides us with the circumstance, we create the experience.

 

Perhaps the most profound thing I've said in some time.

 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have 11 hours to learn a little self-control over body and mind and pull myself out of this wretched emotional hole I've dug...

 

Because I've got a date with Pam tonight.

 

Wish me luck.

 

-Spontaneous K