[ My Own Voice Over ]

Somewhere Between On Again and Off Again

2010-06-21T12:16:00.001-07:00

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

2010-06-14T06:26:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-21T07:14:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-20T06:02:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-15T06:02:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-14T06:44:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-09T07:01:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-08T10:55:00.001-07:00

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.

2010-04-06T15:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-06T05:44:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-05T06:31:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-29T09:22:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-24T10:54:00.001-07:00

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!

2010-03-24T06:18:00.001-07:00

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...

2010-03-23T12:15:00.001-07:00

"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...

2010-03-23T07:42:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

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?!

2010-03-19T06:02:00.001-07:00

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...

2010-03-18T08:37:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-16T08:06:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-16T05:32:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-15T06:30:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-15T05:39:00.001-07:00

"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

I'm a Bona Fide Asshole

2010-03-14T11:24:00.001-07:00

And I'm not talking about your run of the mill asshole. Not someone who says mean things or treats people like crap...no, I'm the worst kind of asshole. I'm the guy that is as nice and polite as he could possibly be, the guy everyone thinks is completely genuine and great, yet, deep down he's got a selfish motive of his own.

This is what I discovered...or better stated, rediscovered...about myself this weekend. What's worse is that I don't even do it on purpose. I'm ignorant to it. And it's probably why I've never had a serious relationship in my life that wasn't rocky as hell.

As stated in my previous post, OAOA's sister was unfortunately struck by a vehicle while riding her bike. This incident caused our day of fun to be canceled. Deep down inside, I knew that this had absolutely nothing to do with me. OAOA wasn't blowing me off, as she has done in the past, because she was tired, or wasn't feeling well...she had a legitimate emergency. But all too familiar feelings of abandonment and disappointment washed over me. Even though I was concerned about how OAOA was feeling, I found myself not so much concerned with how her sister was, but what the fuck I was now supposed to do with my Saturday.

I didn't want to do anything. OAOA and I had made our plans on Tuesday, and I had waited all week to see her. I was SO excited to hang out with her again, since we had such a good time the past two previous times, that it was all I could think about. And then, when this incident happened, something out of all of our control, I felt like it was happening to me and not to her. Like the universe had done this to me on purpose. I was the victim, not her sister.

I didn't want to do anything else. She was the person I wanted to see that day, she was the person I wanted to spend time with, and I was so disappointed that I felt like nothing I could do or nobody else I could see would make me feel better.

And so I did nothing. I "protested" like my friend Josh would tell me today. I literally stayed in bed all day, attempting to gather my thoughts and force myself to do something, but I couldn't. It was the worst form of non-acceptance.

The same went for today. I didn't want to get out of bed. I was supposed to go into work and do overtime, but I didn't feel like doing that either. Nothing. I wanted to sit and wait until I got to see OAOA again.

This was bad. This was dangerous. This was what I told myself a month ago when I thought I was dying that I would never, EVER do again, which is depend on someone else to make me happy. All I wanted was to be filled up by OAOA.

And as my friend Josh so aptly put it, "Her sister is in the hospital and all your siblings are just fine. And you're wasting away your time, upset because your plans didn't happen with her."

Oh...by the way...this is coming from a guy whose younger brother committed suicide. So there was a nice tinge of "Stop fucking complaining" in there.

I'm the worst kind of person. I try and do what's right for everyone else, trying to make their lives full and happy...but only so someone will do the same for me.

My priorities are way disorganized. I feel awful. I feel sick. I feel undeserving.

Shame on me. How could I do such a thing?

-K

My Friday Night Freakout

2010-03-13T09:25:00.000-08:00

It's been a long week. Yesterday was a day that made me reminisce to the point of sadness. But all was to be well, because the next morning, I was going to be spending the day with OAOA, and we we're going to have a blast. I was sure of it.

I went to bed early because I was supposed to wake up early to take her to a bagel place near my house I've been raving about, and to accompany her to a doctor's appointment to get her blood taken. For emotional support I guess. She cries when she gets needles.

It's about 11:45pm, I'm dozing off into sleep land, and BANG! I'm awakened by a loud fucking crash downstairs in my apartment. I'm frozen in my bed on the top floor in the darkness, door shut, awaiting further noises. This wasn't just a regular bump in the night, something broke and I was hoping it wasn't someone breaking in. Because both my roommates were on spring break. I was here alone.

What did I do? I called OAOA. Of course, her phone was off. Fuck. And I knew it wasn't off for long. She has a track record of letting her phone run out of battery and then plugging it in, and it was late, she should be at her dad's place any minute and have the phone plugged in, so I kept calling and calling. I felt like I was in a horror movie each time the call went straight to voicemail. Finally, she picked up, and I babbled on to her about how something crashed downstairs and I'm too afraid to go check it out. She assured me that everything was fine, and that if something was going to happen to me, it probably would've happened by now. In my head, that made sense, and I took her word for it. I went to sleep.

At around five in the morning, I had to pee, and all my fears of the crash had subsided, so I ventured downstairs to the bathroom. What did I find?

The entire fucking cabinet above my kitchen counter had fallen down, no thanks to probably the heavy ass ceramic dishes my roommates had in there. I stood over it in slight shock, thinking "Had I actually been standing under the fucking thing, I'd be close to dead, if not dead."

What occurred to me even more, in retrospect, was the fact that I called OAOA. There are half a dozen people I could have called. My mother. My father. My brother. Dan. Ben. In all actuality, the smartest phone call would have been to call 911. However, I would've felt absolutely retarded to have police come to my apartment to find I had been scared to death by a falling cabinet.

What's interesting about the situation is that OAOA could have done absolutely nothing. Had a person been in the house, all she could have done was redirected me to calling 911 like a smart person would have done in the first place. But she's done the same thing to me, in a multitude of situations. Over Thanksgiving, I was the first person she called crying after she hit a deer while driving. There was absolutely nothing that I could do besides tell her to call the police and her parents.

Even on the same day, before my cabinet fell, she called me at work asking me how to get to Temple Hospital because her sister had been in a bike accident. She has an iPhone, she could have looked up the directions. She could have called anyone but the fact remains, she chose me to call first. And I chose her.

What does that mean?

-Spontaneous K

Six Months Ago This Evening...

2010-03-12T06:05:00.001-08:00

Had I not turned to my friend Nick at a party and said, "Excuse me, I'm going to go talk to this girl while I still have the balls,"...my life would be a whole lot different.

Actually, there are an infinite amount of other choices that led me to that moment, but allow me to go back a little further.

A little over six months ago, I was still working at the hellhole that is Starbucks on South Street. One of the only things me and the other guys behind the counter (there was mostly men working this store) could do to keep ourselves slightly happy was ogle the attractive female customers and dream of being with them since...let's face it...the green apron and the stupid hat isn't exactly the best attire to be picking up women.

"Hey! I make $7.75/hr! Date me!"

No. The best we could do was give them free drinks and hope for the best. Which I did.

There were two girls in particular that were regulars...one came in on a constant basis and the other came in on a more sporadic schedule. The first girl was Lauryn, a short, blonde, dreadlocked chica who seemed just as miserable with her job as we were with ours that she would have lengthy conversations with us. She worked at a jeans store across the street, and I always enjoyed my encounters with her, usually hooking her up with her drinks.

Then there was the other one...the sporadic one...I never knew when she'd be coming in, but I always waited for it. She was tall, 5'10, gorgeous, and had this epic, artsy tattoo over her right shoulder. She was the one I had the crush on...and the one I knew I had no shot with. Even my manager wanted a piece of this girl.

One day she came in while I was working the register, and I took a deep breath and decided to muster up my confidence. As she handed me her credit card I said, with as little anxiety as I could, "Don't worry about it."

She literally took a step back.

Now, this is the split second moment where I'm waiting to see if the girl reacts with:

"Uh...thanks." and rolls her eyes, walking off all awkward. Or...
Smiles and accepts the small gift.

Much to my surprise, I got that smile. "Really?" She asks me. I nod happily. She takes that step forward again and puts out her hand. "Wow. Thank you. Emily."

I shake her hand. "(For the sake of anonymity) K. Nice to meet you."

As she walks away toward where she's going to receive her drink, she keeps looking back at me, smiling as if I just did the most unbelievably nice thing for her. I felt fantastic.

A week or so later, things got interesting. Lauryn and Emily came in to the store...together. Turns out they not only work at the same place, but they live together. I'm working the register again, and Lauryn asks me, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"It's my mom's surprise 60th birthday party." I answered, and I don't think I could have had a lamer answer. The other two guys I'm working with are staring at me like I'm retarded.

"Is that going to go until midnight?" Lauryn continues.

I think about that for a moment. "Well, um, most of my parents friends are in their sixties, so I'm going to guess not."

"Good, because our housewarming party starts at 12. Be there."

Lauryn gave me her address and her phone number, and I was shocked. The guys I was working with couldn't really believe that just happened, and all I could think was "I guess I'm going to a housewarming party!"

Now, I don't know these girls. At all, aside from their names and place of employment. Actually, I knew that Lauryn was 18, which was really pushing it for me, so I assumed that Emily as about 18 as well. They also lived in a ghetto, ghetto, part of South Philly, one I'd be venturing into by myself. I wasn't going to let that happens, so I dragged my friend Dan with me.

We took a cab, and we literally told him to stay there while we checked out the party in case it was non-existent, because we had been calling Lauryn and she wasn't answering. When we arrived, the party was indeed on, and we let the cabbie go. Walking in, we immediately realized we were out of place.

There were about seventy-five people in the house, all dressed in leather, chains, piercings and tattoos galore...Dan and I are dressed in clothes from Target. A good portion of the party was already drugged up and passed out on the various couches, and we were definitely older than most.

Since I was the only one who knew anyone, and I didn't really know them to begin with, Dan was like "Lead the way." So I did.

It was dark. It was crowded. I was on the lookout for Emily, and I thought I spotted her amongst the crowd. I tapped on her shoulder, "Emily?"

She spun around. "No, Ali. I'm Emily's sister." She said with a smile so gorgeous that I almost fell over. They looked so much alike yet, Ali was dressed a lot more like...well me. She seemed just as out of place as I did.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm K. A friend of Emily's." I said to her.

"I think she's out back." Ali said.

And that was it. For now.

Dan and I found Emily and Lauryn, and after hanging out with them for a little while, they didn't turn out to be what I had hoped. Emily was a smoker, a drug user, and had guys all over her. She seemed to care very little that I was even there. However, I found my thoughts drifting toward Ali. Ali looked even younger than Emily did, so if I was right to assume that Emily was 18, then I'm thinking that Ali's gotta be 16. But what the fuck do I know.

My friend Nick arrived, so I went downstairs to meet him. We sat down near the door and looked out over the party. It was a wreck. A bunch of people passed out, really not our scene. Yet there was one empty couch, the back of which was adjacent to the back of another couch...where Ali was sitting talking to another girl. She was part of a small group of people that was her own, none like anyone else there.

That's when I turned to Nick and told him I needed to talk to this girl while I still had the balls.

And to this day, I can't believe I actually had the balls.

I sat down on that couch behind Ali and said, "Hey, sorry, I don't really know anyone here, and you seemed really nice when you introduced yourself to me, so I thought I'd come over and say hello again."

Solid line? I thought so. So did she.

"I don't really know anyone here either." She responded.

And we started talking. A lot longer than I expected the conversation to go. And it turned out she wasn't 16. She was 24. Like me. She graduated from an art school. Like me. She didn't smoke, she didn't do any drugs...and halfway through the conversation, since we were leaning over different couches and it was awkward, she invited me to sit down next to her on her couch. And do I did.

The conversation was going so well, and this girl was so beautiful, that I just couldn't fathom this was actually happening. I went for the home run and I said, "Listen...my birthday party is next weekend. You should come."

"Yeah. I'll come. Let me get your number."

The coveted number exchange. This could mean everything or nothing. Since she wanted my number, it meant the ball was in her court. She could use it at her discretion and never contact me. But I was willing to take that chance. I gave her my number, and then much to my surprise, she says "Okay, I'm calling you to make sure you didn't give me a fake one."

What?! Why the hell would I give her a fake number? Who the hell would ever give her a fake number?

My phone buzzed with her number, and that's when I realized she actually liked me and didn't want me disappearing somewhere. I believed her when she said she'd be at my birthday. After that, she and her friends left, and Dan gave me a high five on a flawless victory.

A victory so flawless, that I'd have her in my bed the night of my birthday party, in heaven, the both of us unable to stop smiling.

A victory so flawless...that it was all downhill from there. As she just wanted to be friends.

Ali...my friends...is OAOA. And that was how I met her. Six months ago this evening.

-Spontaneous K

TMI Thursdays

2010-03-11T05:32:00.001-08:00

TMI Thursdays is a little trend I picked up from my good friend imerika at Refreshingly Honest. It's a day where you share a story that has, well, too much information. We bear our souls just a little bit more than we normally would to those amongst the blogosphere.

And since I don't have anything as of recent that's too raunchy, I decided to grant you all the pleasure of reading a REALLY old blog post. Yes, I had a blog before this. Yes, there was a girl before OAOA. Yes, this girl's story is one hundred times more epic and melodramatic than OAOA's.

I called her Firefly in previous posts on this blog. And yes, this TMI Thursday post is about her. It's a long one...but damn, it's a good story. :) Enjoy!

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Day 1 (Holy Shit)

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Ho-ly shiiiiiiit.

It's 7:35am right now, and she's still asleep, so now is about the only time I'm going to get to discreetly write a post. Not that I want to be sleeping. I'm awake because I'm wired. Day 1 went...well it went better than I ever could have hoped for. Or worse than I ever could've imagined, depending on your perception of good and bad.

All too familiar feelings washed over me when I arrived at the Vancouver International Airport. Man, have I been here before. Except this time it's not midnight and almost empty and I'm not dying from pneumonia. The place was MOBBED. Standing in customs for an hour and a half after I had just traveled for over nine hours was torture. All these people, hundreds of them, waiting to get past the gates and into the city of Vancouver. I wondered if any of them had stories anything like mine.

The customs person didn't give me nearly as much trouble this time as they did last, and it's probably because the line was long as hell and I didn't look like I was bringing the Ebola Virus across the border. Luckily, literally seconds after I passed through customs, my bag arrived onto the carousel. I snagged it and I fucking jetted out of that airport.

Only to find there was a line for Taxis. What? Really? A line? This country amazed me with how polite and courteous everyone is. A LINE! For TAXIS! Try making a line for a taxi at PHL, LAX, or JFK. There will be blood shed. Gotta love America. Most aggressive wins the taxi.

When I did finally get my taxi (which was a really nice taxi, by the way, with a really nice cabbie), I started on the final stretch toward the girl I've been waiting for. I asked the cabbie how long it would take to get to her house. He said around twenty minutes. Alright, not bad, I can handle that. She was in the vicinity of 10th street, and I found us crossing 50th street minutes later. I was like, "Really? 40 more fucking blocks?" Could the trip really take any longer?

All-in all, it took me about twelve hours of traveling to finally be dropped off in front of her house where the door was open. I couldn't see anyone inside. The cabbie goes: "Look. Door's open, waiting for you."

Yeah. It sure fucking is.

I was shaking as I took my bags out of the trunk. And when I looked over to the door one more time, I saw a head peak itself out, a head with a huge smile. I paid the cabbie, began walking towards her door, and like any cheesy, romantic movie of any kind, she comes outside, I drop my bags, and we wrap our arms around each other as tightly as you can hug someone without stripping them of the ability to breathe. We did not let go of each other for a LONG time. We just kept spouting out random bits, not really knowing what we were saying, but kinda saying what we re supposed to be saying: "Oh my god, you're really here. Oh my god, it's you. I can't believe you're here, it's so good you're here."

When we stopped hugging, we stared at each other, grinning, for a long long time. And this continual staring will continue to happen for the majority of the day, each of us not really sure how it's possible that we're standing in front of one another.

Her and I talked all day. ALL day. We always wondered if we could uphold conversations in person like we could on the phone. Our record on the phone was 8.5 hours. We broke it yesterday. We talked about everything and anything, and we never stopped.

The actual events of the day, aren't really that exciting (until the end). All we did was go get a cup of coffee, sit in a park, meet her roommates friends, go out for sushi, go out for beer, and then come back to her place. I mean, no, they're not exciting in and of themselves, but the fact that I was doing all of these things with her made them exciting. We gazed into each other's eyes any chance we got. We reveled about how crazy it is to see someone in 3D and not in a picture...to get to witness their subtle nuances. She looked gorgeous. She thought I looked gorgeous. And about an hour into being there, all I could think was "This was going to be harder than I thought."

It got to the point where we actually COULDN'T look at each other because we were too attracted to one another and we knew exactly what was going through the other's mind.

We got pretty tipsy at the bar, having shared a pitcher of beer, and she broke the ice (knowing she shouldn't) by letting me know that I have the most beautiful eyes.

As we were walking back to her place, I took her hand, and she held it tight. We both held it tight for a few moments before she spurted out "You're here for nine more days. Who the fuck were we kidding?" I have no idea. No matter how many declarations I had and she had over and over in preparation for this trip...it seems being in the presence of someone can nullify anything. We took our hands away from one another, attempting some form of restraint.

When we got back to her house, nobody was there, the music was left on (and we continued to leave it on), and we sat next to each other on the couch, pondering what to do next. We sat close. We knew what we wanted to do, the question was simply "how long can we go before we give in?" The answer?

Not very long.

For what seemed to be an hour, she and I held hands, rubbed arms and legs, put cheek to cheek, whispered things like "I remember your smell...", and "...we were never going to make in 10 days."

We were afraid to kiss one another. Seriously, genuinely afraid. We knew the consequences. I wanted to be good to her, and she wanted to be good to me, by NOT kissing each other. But this was vacation. And I hadn't seen her in 2.5 years. And I didn't know when I was going to get the chance to see her again.

So, everyone who's reading this that may be my friend or just plain doesn't agree with my relationship with her...I'm sorry. But I'm really not sorry. I kissed her. Which brings me, once again, to the first line of this post.

Holy Shit. I've never had a kiss that was as hot as this before. Not even with her. This topped it. This topped anything. We went nuts, right there on her couch. We practically tore each other's clothes off. I was halfway between ecstasy and halfway between hysterically laughing because she was right. Who the fuck were we kidding? This was so predictable and so downright awesome at the same time that I was laughing.

We moved it to her room, and, well...yeah. Officially, I've gotten more action in the past week than I've gotten in the past 2.5 years. And this girl tops her own record for best sex I've ever had.

We did end up stopping halfway through at one point because she was so nervous and felt so guilty about what was happening, and just plain needed a glass of water. This girl, though...nobody has ever looked at me and my body the way she does. I felt like a god damn Abercrombie model standing in front of this girl. She would look at me and practically cry before saying things like "Jesus Christ, do you have any idea how hot you are?"

Um, no, I don't, so thank you!

This is how hot I am, apparently: When we went to get a glass of water, I was standing nearby in my jeans, but lacking a shirt. She fills her glass, holds it, turns to look at me, and she freezes as her eyes admire my shirtlessness. Then, because she couldn't handle it (and she verified this, so it's FUCKING AWESOME), she dropped her glass. It shattered all over the floor, water everywhere, and we were both cracking up because that had never happened to her in her life. I am so hot to at least one person that I can cause them to lose control of motor functions. That is downright phenomenal.

We ended up laying with one another, holding hands, caressing, kissing, talking and reminiscing until about two in the morning. We went on about how unique our situation is and how we've never known anyone with a situation like ours. We tried, like many times before, to pinpoint what it all means. And still...we have no idea.

For the sake of I dunno what, we slept in different rooms. Maybe to just redeem ourselves a little. But I didn't get any sleep. Despite having been awake for almost 24 hours yesterday, I'm wired right now after five hours of sleep. I couldn't sleep because I was so happy. For once in my life, I couldn't sleep because I was HAPPY! And for all the pain and despair...it's pretty worth it. Maybe that's just the self-masochist in me. But if you knew this feeling...I think you'd know where I was coming from.

Today, it's going to be 90 degrees, so we're heading to the beach. The nude one. It's gonna be a good day.

I still can't predict what's going to happen in the remaining nine days and its finale. But if all manages to go to hell, which I know it certainly can...yesterday alone was worth it. It really fucking was.

Stay tuned.

I hope you all enjoyed today's rendition of TMI Thursdays! G'night everyone!

(Or good day. I got a whole freakin' work day left.)

-Spontaneous K

My Budding Bromance & My Rising Romance

2010-03-10T10:09:00.001-08:00

Romantic relationships aren't the only thing that hopeless romantic males like myself are searching for. We also dig our bromances equally, if not more so. Sure, a woman can stroke your ego, among other things, and provide you with boundless sexual pleasure.

But when you need to beat the crap out of someone in Super Smash Bros., tell someone that you almost walked down the "up" escalator because you were staring at a 10, or aim a fart in someone's direction with pride...well, then you need a Bromance.

While romantic relationships have always seemed to elude me, even when they're right in front of me, I've never had too much trouble with bromances. I'm good at being one of the guys. And lately, a new guy has come into my life, and I feel like something special is blooming.

His name's Ben, and he's a fellow Comcaster. He works on my team, he's a bit younger than me, from NY, we both enjoy video games, and he lives five blocks from me. Lately, we've been chillin' outside of work, talking on a regular basis, and...this part's key...creating inside jokes. Inside jokes are essential to ANY relationship. I live by this rule.

They say that inter-work relationships are bad. Not when it's a bromance.

Ben feels the same way. I can feel it. It's something you just know. :)

On the other hand, an actual romance is perhaps on the horizon for me, as Pam continues to blow up my blackberry on a now daily basis. Knowing I'm a movie guy, she texted me this morning just to let me know that Corey Haim's had passed (RIP). How sweet of her. Despite the morbid news. We'll be getting together at some point this weekend, and I'm very excited about it.

I'm also getting together again with OAOA on Saturday. 'Tis a battle of epic proportions.

-Spontaneous K

My First Blogging Award!!

2010-03-08T19:01:00.000-08:00

I can go back to the naming convention every once in a while. When it works. Ha!

Okay, so I was pretty proud of myself to have even kept this blog going for a month now...but I never expected to be given an award of any kind. It's been so nice to have readers and commenters, but to have someone acknowledge that all my glory and all my grief...my "star-crossed" story as she put it...literally brightens her day to read. That, well...brightens my day and gives me such an incentive to continue blogging. Fellow readers of [My Own Voice Over], I present to you my first blogging award, presented to me by Jen Jen of Jen's Battle Book, The SUNSHINE AWARD!

Sunny flowers! Yay!

As is tradition with the Sunshine Award, you are to pass it along to other bloggers who brighten your day...because we're all in this mess we call "life" together, right? Here's a little list of internet denizens that keep me sane:

Katie Blogs: She told me not to do this, but I have to! Katie literally hopped on my ass within 30 second of my joining 20sb, and was perhaps my first reader. Even when her whimsical, sarcastic, and downright funny outlook on life isn't entertaining me on her blog, her wise insight is warming me as a friend. She's a keeper. Even though I know her as My First Internet Enemy.
Proud Maisie: Forewarning all that this is an adult content blog, she may have a darker side, but she's a sweetheart in the end and has a mysterious way with words that is quite tantalizing. She's been an avid listener to my stories, and I was turned onto her blog by her elegant, dangerously arousing use of language.
In Search Of Pemberley: If there's someone out there that thinks similarly to the way that I do, or at least thinks about the same things I do, it's writer Pratty. While a lot of blogs out there are hysterical rants and commentaries about life, and others are plain whining (I'm guilty of both I'm sure), Pratty has a genuine introspective writing style that gives you something to think about throughout your day.
Refreshingly Honest: by writer imerika. I have to say, I am truly blessed to have a reader such as her, because she is downright hysterical and in your face. I wish I had the balls to write about some of the things she writes about on her blog (and perhaps I will if I ever get laid again one of these days), but you know you've got a good friend when they tell you, hands down, verbatum "kick the bitch in the face" as sincere advice. Please read her blog.

I'm a little new to the blogosphere myself, so I have to keep finding other great blogs to read, and hopefully as I do so, I'll attract more readers to my own neck of the interwoods. (I just made up a new term, what what.)

Okay! The rules for accepting the Sunshine Award are as follows:
1. Put the logo in your post or within your blog.
2. Pass the award onto fellow bloggers.
3. Link the nominees within your post.
4. Let nominees know they have received this award by leaving a comment on their blogs.
5. Share the love and link to the person who gave you the award!

Much love to the blogosphere. Pay it forward. :)

Honored and Yours,
Spontaneous K

Dangerously On Again

2010-03-08T06:40:00.001-08:00

I feel like I had the best sex of my life last night. And I didn't have sex.

This is why expectations are the worst ideas in the world. When you have great expectations, and they're not met, you're thrown into a bout of disappointment that's hard to pull yourself out of. When you have bad expectations, it paralyzes you and you can literally create the outcome you so vigorously feared.

I can honestly, truly say that this was the greatest weekend so far of 2010, even though it started out with a Panic Attack so epic that I thought my subsequent weeks to months were ruined. The reason my weekend ended up being so great was because I defied my own expectations.

Before I continue any further, I promise, promise for any new readers coming in, tonight I'm going to be placing TAGS on all my posts thus far, because my story is a pretty detailed one, and if you're jumping in straight in the middle, I wouldn't want you to have missed any of the good stuff. And things are just getting good again.

Spring's coming. It was almost 50 degrees this weekend and will almost be 60 today and tomorrow. I didn't even have any trouble waking up this morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It's one of this sickeningly happy mornings that you only see in the movies. Since spring is just around the corner...let's consider this the end of Season 1 of [My Own Voice Over] and the premiere of Season 2.

See how I did that? Seasons? Because Spring is a season? Aren't I clever?

For anyone following, you're probably wondering how my evening went with OAOA. Things have been rocky and emotional between us to say the least, especially since the her trip to the ER, which I thought was an amazing time and actually wasn't.

Well last night actually was an amazing time.

We were going to the Continental Midtown, which is a snazzy joint, so I wanted to look nice, but I didn't want to get too dressed up, because I didn't want her to think it was a date. But I also didn't want to dress down too much so it would seem like I didn't care. I said "Screw it" and went with what I felt comfortable with. You can't go wrong with a nice button-down, jeans, and solid shoes.

It was a really nice, quiet evening at the Continental, low music, low lighting, small crowd...we found a cozy corner on a tiny couch, her sipping on a sweet Martini, me relishing in a glass of Cabernet, the both of us celebrating our recent career successes. There wasn't a moment we weren't smiling. There wasn't a moment we weren't giggling or joking or looking attentively into the others' eyes, listening as hard as we could to what the other had to say. We ordered cheesecake and shared it together. We took pictures of the two of us on our phones. I felt confident, secure, and alive...I felt happy.

I know she's not my girlfriend. I know she doesn't want that from me. And as much as I'm in love with her and want that from her, I haven't given up because I believed there was something worth saving in there, and that just because she was a female, doesn't mean she couldn't be one of the closest friends I have. The connection we have is one I haven't had with anyone else, and I know she feels the same, even though not in a romantic manner. Last night proved to myself that I respected her boundaries and gave her the space she wanted enough to trust me again...and maybe we really are "On Again" as best friends.

I know I make her out to be this confusing, wicked female on here sometimes, someone who is dead set on making my head spin, but I wasn't so wonderful to her either in the six months we've known each other. I've been overbearing, melodramatic, needy, clingy...all those things a girl never wants. The reason I believe we keep giving each other second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth chances is because we know there's something great there that shouldn't be discarded...it just needs to be worked on.

As I spoke of in My Role As Friend and also more privately discussed with My First Internet Enemy (whom I miss...Katie if you're reading this, come say hi!) everybody has a specific role in our lives, whether we realize it or not. And MFIE noted to me that while I'm looking for that one person to fill ALL my needs, find people that can fill singular needs in your life, and build and foundation that way.

OAOA fills a big role in my life...some way, some how. And I'm looking forward to see how Pam fits into the whole picture. :)

Happy Spring, all. It's going to be a good season. :)

-Spontaneous K

Getting Back Up On The Ball Return

2010-03-07T15:51:00.000-08:00

The title of this post makes absolutely no sense to you, but it will.

My last post, whether you have or have not read it, was a difficult one for me to write. No one likes to advertise their flaws to the world. It (usually) makes them feel quite vulnerable and less worthy of whatever. Let's say someone's friendship or respect. It's surprising to me, however, how often people do the exact opposite when you admit your flaws...they empathize with you and respect you more. Tell you that you're strong.

I also suppose what I'm going through isn't necessarily a character flaw, merely a fact of life. People go through shit. I'm going through shit. There isn't a person I'm going to meet at my age who has some perfect life put together and doesn't feel like it's going to fall apart sometimes. The trick is to find people whose shit complements your shit and you can fix your shit together.

We call that shit love. :)

And while at this point in my life I haven't had so much luck in the "romantic" category of love, I'm quite wealthy in the department of friends and family. I'm extremely fortunate to have people in my life who not only understand what I'm going through, but are being patient and helping me through it...my poor mother for one. I wanted to spend most of my Saturday in my bed, scared to leave the apartment in case of another panic attack, but my mother assured me that my Friday night panic attack was an incident not a setback. This was very important for me to understand, and she had to pound it into my brain several times before I got up, went to my local Starbucks, and wrote yesterday's post.

That evening, I was petrified to go to my friend Andrew's birthday. It was an hour away from my apartment, truly a distance for anyone whose ever had a panic attack and wants to be close to somewhere "safe." But I went. We were to have dinner and go bowling. It was going to be a whole evening. Probably a solid five hours of hanging out. That's a long time for me to spend with people as of late. But I went.

And by god, did I have a blast.

It was me and five of my best friends, guys I've known for over a decade. We've been bowling together since high school, it's one of our favorite past times, and we get really, really into it.

We're also quite good.

This was the first time playing at the alley we were at, so we talked about "breaking in the ball return" or "popping it's cherry." Why would anyone ever want to do that? What does that even mean?

I don't even know how this tradition got started, but we've literally been doing it since we were fifteen years old, and if you don't go through with it, it's bad luck. Every time you get a turkey (three strikes in a row for anyone who doesn't know) you have to hop onto the ball return and ride it like a bull.

It's ridiculous. It draws an insane amount of attention. But it's so much god damn fun when all your friends are cheering you on.

I rode the ball return twice last night. :)

It felt good to be out and to feel confident after having such a horrific evening prior. My mother was right. It wasn't a setback...it was just an incident. If I held onto it, then it would be a setback. But I had to just keep moving forward, and I did.

Amidst the evening, OAOA did text me...she got into an Art Show she had applied for in Seattle. She was so excited...and she wanted me to come celebrate with her soon, which is what I'm going to be doing with her in about two hours from now. Getting a drink at the Continental Midtown, something we've been planning on doing for months, before going on and off. I know what you're all going to say...the same things you've been saying to me before.

Sever the ties. Kick the bitch in the face.

Aaah, but I can't yet. Perhaps I haven't learned my lesson. Perhaps I'm a fool with a good heart and high hopes. Perhaps I believe that deep down she's got good intentions for the both of us, even if they're not exactly what I want.

But one thing's for sure...Pam did finally get back to me. And she wants to meet me this week. And I WAS excited to hear from her this time.

So if OAOA really wants me...she might have some competition. :)

-Spontaneous K

The Truth About My "Illness"

2010-03-06T11:48:00.000-08:00

In my "About Me" I claim that I'm a lot like JD from Scrubs. And I am. I'm goofy, I'm a bit of a woman, I have man-love for the guys in my life...I don't land as many ladies in bed as he does, but I certainly mess up relationships as regularly as he does...and he's constantly on the prowl for approval from friends and mentors.

Unfortunately, TV Land is nothing like Real Life Land...I wanted to write just now that RLL is a helluva lot worse than TVL, but it's not. It just has a lot more to offer, and some of those things can be pretty harsh and unwelcoming. While a situation like the one I have with OAOA would work perfectly well in a sitcom...what I've been dealing with for the past couple months simply wouldn't. See, there's nothing too happy or too funny that you can't put into a sitcom...but there are some things that are too hard to touch on, even for Scrubs, which deals with death and pain on a regular basis.

Maybe I'm not giving Scrubs enough credit. Anyways, here's the deal.

I'm dealing with an acute case of Panic Disorder/Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As much as I want to portray my life on here as fun and interesting and exciting...which it is...there's also this part of me that has been struggling more than I've ever struggled in my life, and I haven't talked about it on here in fear of losing readers. But it occurred to me that the whole reason I started this blog in the first place was to help myself get out all of the emotions that I have no where to place...the emotions that some of my friends and family, and people like OAOA, just won't understand.

I had Panic Attacks when I was much younger, in my earlier teens, but they subsided with some medication. The depression, however, was something that I continued to struggle with way up until, well, now. Depression is an ugly beast. It can incapacitate you in ways you didn't think possible. But I've discovered recently that there are other ways to be incapacitated that make depression seem like a better option.

I'm not a drug user. Never have been, never will be. So whatever prompted me to try a hallucinogenic drug called Salvia right before the new year is beyond me. It was supposed to be this calming, out of body, spiritual experience...I suppose for someone who is in the right state of mind. Unfortunately, my experience was the opposite. It was the most terrifying thing that I had ever been through, and I panicked so greatly, wanting it to be over that had my friend not been there to watch me, I might not be sitting here writing these words to you.

In the subsequent weeks, I had flashbacks to the trip, severe panic attacks, and persistent symptoms of vertigo, numbness, tingling, dissociation, hot flashes. One flashback was so bad that I took myself straight to the ER.

I was pretty sure that I had done something permanent to myself. That I had altered my brain chemistry, unlocked some latent psychosis or schizophrenia, and that I was permanently damaged. I was in danger of becoming agoraphobic. I couldn't go out for extended periods of time, I couldn't see my friends, I constantly felt terribly physically ill...in every sense of the word I thought my life was over because of a stupid mistake I made.

And of course, OAOA wasn't there for me when I needed her most.

I saw every doctor to make sure I was okay. I saw a neurologist, I saw an optometrist, I saw an Ear, Nose, Throat Doctor, I'm seeing a Psychiatrist, and I had my blood taken to make sure everything was working properly.

All tests came back immaculate. I'm the healthiest 25 year old on the planet. I don't have to see another doctor for another five years, and my psychiatrist is assuring me I'm not schizo. She hasn't even diagnosed me with anything in particular, Panic Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress are my own diagnoses based on my symptoms and what I've read on the internet. She just has "General Anxiety" written down. Apparently I'm making a huge mountain out of a molehill.

But how could I not? I saw the end of my life. I literally thought that in mere moments I would lose control and be dead. And that memory lingers on within me.

This past week, the symptoms started to subside. I started to feel myself again. I went out to that show with OAOA, had my first beer in nine weeks, and I didn't freak out. THAT situation above all should have made me freak out. But it didn't. So I felt capable. I felt back on track.

Last night was supposed to be a guy's night. Five of us were going to get together at my best friend Dan's...the place where the whole bad trip went down in the first place...have a few beers and then head out into the city. I was really looking forward to it, because I hadn't had a night like that in months. I should have known better though. Merely talking about the experience is enough to induce a flashback/panic attack to the whole experience, so actually being in the location that it happened with the person that it happened is a recipe for disaster. Ever since, I had had trouble going back into his apartment. There were times where I literally waited outside for him to go in and get something, because I just couldn't step foot. Then again, there were times where I successfully spent hours there...stressful hours...but still, no panic.

Last night though, I was there for 15 minutes, and then BOOM. I was back into having the salvia trip. Dan and I were in the middle of a conversation and I said to him "Excuse me, I'm having a panic attack." And he was just like "Ooookay."

The whole experience lasted maybe fifteen to thirty seconds. I stepped out of his apartment and sat down on the steps in the hallway, closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and willed it away. But I was shaking. I was petrified. I knew I was going to be okay, but I had no interest in hanging out any longer, I wanted to go home, somewhere safe, and just...be.

Two of my friends, who were not friends with Dan, were supposed to be coming over to help show Dan's new friend around Philadelphia. When I canceled, the other two didn't come, leaving just Dan with his friend. I felt completely awful.

I spent the evening ruminating on how well I had done recently, how I took a huge step back, how I completely ruined a friend's evening, and acted out of control. That just made it worse. Sometimes I have tiny panic attacks that are easy for me to deal with, so easy that I don't even have to mention to anyone that I'm having them...but when I have one as strong as the one I did last night...well, I feel like it sets me back twenty steps. I feel like the day after I had the original bad trip. Like my life is in complete disarray and there's nothing I can do to fix it.

I'm supposed to go out tonight to my friend Andrew's birthday, about an hour away from my apartment. It scares me to want to go that far in case I feel the need to leave. Dan's apartment was literally around the corner from mine and I couldn't stay. Granted, his apartment is the trigger of all triggers...it's the place where all my current fears were unlocked, and I haven't had a panic attack NEARLY that bad in a place that wasn't his, or when I wasn't around him. So I'm sure I'll be okay. What kills me is that, right now, I can't be around my best friend or the place where he lives...

And it doesn't change the fact that I'm scared. Truly scared. I know I can't go back and change it...but of all the things in my life I wish I hadn't done, whether they were bad financial decisions, bad relationship decisions, or whatever...I wish I had never taken that drug.

Some days I feel like I've got all the strength in the world to get over this.

Today I don't.

-K

P.S. Regarding Pam, I emailed her when I got finished with OAOA, sent her something real nice, and asked if she wanted to get a cup of coffee with me on Sunday. I haven't heard from her. I know I'm not supposed to over-analyze, perhaps she's just busy...but I was hoping to hear from her again. Not a good Friday.

My Naming Convention/My Evening in Fishtown

2010-03-05T06:15:00.001-08:00

I don't like it anymore.

Not that I don't love Scrubs, nor do I dislike the naming convention of their episodes for their episodes, but as of late I've found myself wanting to title my blog posts with a little less constraint. So this will be my last post with the "My ..." post title.

Is that alright? I hate to change the theme of a blog in the middle, but things evolve, right? I didn't really have any idea what this blog was truly going to become (still don't) when I started it, so I figure, why not let it grow into itself? It will find it's own purpose. I will find my own purpose.

The name of the blog itself, though, stays. I dig it.

Anyways, onto more important matters. OAOA. Dun dun dun. Hell, we argued about a week ago regarding space while she was in Atlanta, and I hadn't heard from her since. She didn't even respond to my "Fuck you recession" facebook status explaining to the world that I actually now have a great job, which everyone responded to. I deleted her number two days ago so I wouldn't be tempted to call.

I'm on eharmony. There. I admitted it. It's not the first online dating site I've tried either. I've tried online dating for many years on and off. Eharmony, I think, has the best method of matching people, but at the same time, I bought a year subscription, it's been nine months, and I've still had no luck. I've gone on countless dates, but nothing has truly surfaced. To be fair, I stopped checking it for about four months while OAOA and I were still somewhat questionable. A few days ago, I was matched with a girl named Pam. Like from The Office. A show which she loves. Yay, we both love funny shows! I saw her picture and her profile was only half-filled out, so there was a chance she wasn't even a full member, which meant if I emailed her, I'd get no response. She also only had two pictures, which I was "meh" about at first, but I decided "What the hell?" and sent her a message.

Much to my surprise, she updated her profile to completion, added more pictures which make her seem lovely, and we've been emailing back and forth. She seems really great. Trying not to get my hopes up, but she does.

Then...yesterday...as I'm waiting as patiently as I can for my next email from Pam, I get a text from a number that's not in my phone asking me "What r u up to tonight?" At first I thought maybe it was Pam, whom I'd given my number to. Then I realized it was OAOA.

Christ.

I ended up going to a show with her in Fishtown. Just the two of us. Granted, I had fun, and it was really nice to see her, it's like a drug high every time. I get this rush when going to see her, and it fades over throughout the night. I can never get over how beautiful she is and how I'm just not allowed to hold her or kiss her, and as we stood next to each other on the balcony, watching over a man play beautiful music on his guitar, I tried to savor the moment as much as I could thinking "I don't know how much longer I have with her in my life and I should just cherish the moment, whether she's in my arms or not."

Pam emailed me while I was with OAOA at the show. I had waited all day for that email. And I hated myself. Because when I got it, I didn't care. God damn you, OAOA.

-K

My Troubled Protagonist

2010-03-04T08:52:00.001-08:00

Writing's hard.

Blogging isn't, but writing is hard. There have only been a few times in my life where a great story has just flown out of me, nearly perfect on the first try. And when it's all over, I ask myself "How in god's name did I manage to do that?"

I suppose this phenomenon can be likened to being "In The Zone"...but whatever it is, I really wish I was there for the story that I'm working on currently. Because I've been working on it for six and a half years.

SIX AND A HALF YEARS.

If I actually finish it, it would be my fifth completed draft. If I don't complete it, it will join the ranks of what are hundreds of false starts.

Most people would say to just let the project die and to move on. But I can't. This is the story I want to tell. I don't know why I want to tell it, I don't know what I can't let it go, perhaps because I love it so much. It's almost like the perfect woman I can't have.

Either there's something inherently wrong with the concept, or I, for six and a half years, have not truly allowed myself to become the protagonist. You see, writing is a bit like acting. You have to create your characters, and they all come from a part of you. I have to create a life for my protagonist, goals, conflicts, friends, enemies.

The only reason I can fathom as to why it's been so difficult for me to jump into my protagonist's shoes this time around is because...it's a woman.

I'm almost positive that if I made this story about a male, I could relate to it better, but I don't want to. This story is about a woman, I want it to be about a woman, and it needs to be about a woman. And not just any woman, but the most powerful, beautiful, feminine entity to ever exist.

No wonder I can't relate. But I'll be damned if I let this project die. It's just too good.

-Spontaneous K

My Fortuitous Opportunity

2010-03-03T10:44:00.001-08:00

Every once in a while, something actually works out the way you wanted it to. And you never know when it's going to strike. Perhaps you find out the girl you've been pining over finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. Perhaps the guy in the position you wanted at work was promoted, laid off, or fired. Perhaps you're the understudy of the lead in a broadway show and the lead gets sick, so you've got to step up.

In screenwriting terms, we dub this the "Call to Action!"

When I moved into my current apartment, I was subletting until this June, and then was hoping to be able to renew the lease, since the location and the apartment itself is fantastic and it's incredibly affordable. Unfortunately, the landlord had signed away the lease to three girls come June, which meant I was gettin' the boot once more, off into the all too familiar realm of "Where the hell am I supposed to live?"

Honestly, as a 25 year old, I'm really starting to get annoyed with carrying all my shit everywhere I go. It's heavy.

Last night, I called my landlord to set up a time to give him my paperwork and this month's rent when he sounded strangely happy to hear me. He presented me with the pleasant surprise that one of the three girls had dropped out of the lease, and the other two were wondering if Fred, my landlord, knew of anyone who wanted to take the room.

Of course he did. Moi.

Ideally, I wanted to move out of the room I'm in, because it's quite tiny, and the master bedroom is soooo nice, but the girl who dropped out was going to be taking my tiny room anyway, so I'm stuck there. On the bright side, that saves me $180 a month in extra rent, and it's not really a big deal. I can make the room cozy.

There are a lot of things you can do in life to help yourself get ahead, to increase your chances of success. But sometimes, to get what you want, you just gotta get lucky. :)

I do though have to meet these two new girls to make sure we're somewhat compatible. It would be a moot point if I don't get along with them. I'd prefer roommates who I can be friends with, but roommates I can tolerate is better than nothing. The one did say to me: "By the way, we're going to be drinking a lot. It's our senior year."

I laughed, and replied with. "Understood. I was there once. Might join you though." She seemed excited about that.

I meet the girls Thursday. Always another adventure!

-Spontaneous K

My Mental Event Horizon

2010-03-02T07:46:00.001-08:00

I'm a science nerd, particularly when it comes to astronomy, so for anyone who doesn't know what an Event Horizon is, it's the imaginary sphere surrounding a black hole in space where if you cross it, the gravity is so great that nothing can return, not even light.

A little heavy for a metaphor regarding my mental processes, but whatevs. I got hit with a couple downers yesterday. The roommate was picked up by a sports star, several pages of my screenplay that I'm working on were not very well received by my writing partner, my car is costing me a fortune and I can't seem to find a good way to get rid of it, and I was just downright too tired to get any work done. Knowing myself, when I start to feel the failures piling on, I begin to think of other failures...particularly ones with recent women. So OAOA was on my mind. And that is the slippery, slippery slope toward my Event Horizon of a bout of mild depression.

When things are going well, we tend to think about more good things, and so life seems great. However, the opposite is also true. When we start to think about bad things, we begin to dwell on more bad things, and the downward spiral begins. I'm particularly prone to each of these positive feedback loops (don't be confused by the world positive in that term, it doesn't mean "positive" in the good sense, just in the sense that it keeps feeding itself).

I got an adequate amount of sleep last night, but I was still deathly tired upon waking, which I knew meant I was treading on mental thin ice. I wanted to call out of work and stay in bed (that would have been the nail in the coffin), but I knew I had to pull myself out of it quickly. The more I fed it, the harder it was going to be. I've quit jobs in the past because I was too tired to get out of bed (this was a long time ago before I lived in the real world and had real responsibilities), but I knew that was not an option right now. I'd gone to work through a painful illness the past two months, I can get the hell out of bed and go to work while tired.

When you're in the thick of it, and you can feel yourself falling, it becomes more and more difficult to find things to brighten you out of that bad mood, but it's essential. We almost become possessed, unaware that we even have a choice as to what mood we want to be in. Often times we wake up on the wrong side of the bed and go, "Today's going to suck." Sometimes we're pleasantly surprised when it doesn't, but most often, it does.

We're human. Things upset us. I can't be mister super positive every day, no matter how hard I try. But if I want to be a stronger, more secure and independent adult, being aware of when I'm slipping into a negative state and taking action to pull myself out of it is a most valuable skill.

Tell me...what do you guys do when you feel yourself slipping?

-Spontaneous K

My Semi-Forbidden Fruit, Part II

2010-03-01T14:20:00.000-08:00

I lied. I came home to find out that she's going to the movies tonight with Stewart Bradley. And I felt a tinge of jealousy.

Oops.

-K

My Semi-Forbidden Fruit

2010-03-01T09:09:00.001-08:00

Today was the first time I've had quite a few topics I wanted to broach and had difficulty choosing which one to go with. I went with the one that's been stewing around in the back of my brain for several days now. I've mentioned it briefly in previous posts, but hadn't gone into real detail. As the days continued, it has intruded my thoughts more and more, so I guess that means the egg for this post is ready to hatch.

I've got a roommate. She's female. She's hot. She's intelligent. She's fun. She's ambitious. She's single.

I have another female roommate too, who is all of those things, slightly less ambitious from what I can tell, but much more NOT single.

These are the kind of relationships that entice me, the stuff fantasies are made out of. Y'know, girls like the most popular in school, your doctor, your therapist, your best friend's sister/cousin, your teacher, your boss. The ones your not allowed to have. I'm not the only one out there that feels this way. We like the ideas of these relationships because they're forbidden, they're wrong. We're not supposed to have them.

While roommates aren't completely off limits, fraternizing with them is along the same lines as fraternizing with a co-worker. It's generally looked upon as bad news. HOWEVER. I'm only living in this apartment until May 31st, and she's out of there halfway through May before traveling to Vietnam and then moving to New York to start her new job and new life (she's graduating from college).

So...is there really any harm that can be done?

I've only been living there for a week, but we've been spending a lot of time together. And we've been talking about everything. We can talk for hours. We have a lot to talk about because she's ambitious, I'm ambitious, and I've been out in the "real world" for three years now, so she loves hearing about my adventures and my endeavors. At least that's the impression that I get. And what's most apparent is the two of us continue to talk about how right now we want to enjoy being single and just have fun with people. No strings attached, no pressure, just good old fashioned fun.

I just can't tell if we mean with each other.

We went out to dinner together earlier in the week. I made her dinner the other night. She smiles at me a lot. She says "Morning sunshine" to me. And what's been so great about it is how casual it is. It doesn't feel like there's anything going on, and I guess that's how we're supposed to feel, because we're roommates.

But I'm finding myself thinking about her more and being excited to come home and see her. What does that mean?

I also don't find myself jealous when she talks about other guys...or the fact that Stewart Bradley from the Philadelphia Eagles is currently trying to get her to go out with him. I even give her advice on what to say to him. And somehow, I think she finds the fact that I'm not jealous that a Sports Star is asking her out quite attractive. I think.

Am I really becoming the laid back, confident, secure man that I want to be? And will this allow me to just have fun with a great girl for a little while?

I can't wait to find out. :)

-Spontaneous K

My Uprising

2010-02-28T12:26:00.000-08:00

If there's any age that's most appropriate to have a quarter-life crisis, it would be 25. How 'bout that, I'm 25!!

This post isn't meant to be me boasting. It isn't meant to shine any pride I may have. But today is a very important day, and I have much to be happy and grateful about.

For a decade I fought anxiety and depression. I was struck in vicious circles and never-ending negative patterns that I couldn't recognize, patterns I believed would bring me optimal results and continued to bring me pain. I had faith in them so I kept feeding the patterns, like a gambler, hoping just one time, just ONE TIME it would work, nullifying all the times it didn't.

Comparably, I didn't have an awful upbringing. My teenage years were bright and so were my college years. But they were haunted by negative thought patterns and distortions. I had very close friends, friends who had similar patterns that I did, but my patterns started destroying relationships around the age of 16 and continued to do so up until very recently. And with each relationship they burned, they burned worse. I was a failure more and more each time.

I always saw myself as a good person. Someone who tried their best in everything that they did, someone who treated every human being with as much respect as I could muster, and for that I couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't like me, or worse, why the people I loved would turn on me.

Well, growing up has taught me at least two things. One: No matter what, there are going to be people that don't like you...they might even hate you. This applies to the people you want to like you. And two: The people you love might stop loving you one day.

I'm not going to list the throngs of hardships I've been through since college. But they hit me like bullets: relationship problems, financial problems, living problems, health problems, until I finally collapsed under the pressure several months ago and found myself living at my parent's with no money and the danger of developing agoraphobia due to post traumatic stress.

I truly thought things were over. No matter how many times my family, my friends, and my doctors told me this all would pass, I thought my life was over and there wasn't a whole lot to do to stop it. All I had worked for, all I had dreamed of...the love of the right woman, a family, children, great works of writing and film enjoyed by the masses, traveling and experiencing the world...I thought it was being stripped from me.

And now I'm here. Where is "here" you may ask...

For two years I struggled trying to find a job that would pay me enough to cover my bills. I was either unemployed or underemployed, working for psychos or serving coffee to psychos, 3000 miles away from the dreams I had left in Los Angeles, lost in a cloud of uncertainty. I was 24 without a direction, without any money, living with my parents, nothing to show, nothing to offer a woman...I truly hated myself. I couldn't move on from Firefly, and then OAOA came into my life only to replace Firefly with the same problem I had before. It was a glimmer of hope that ended up being a repeat nightmare.

Two months ago I developed debilitating symptoms that made every day a struggle. Every day they were the same, persistent, and showed no sign of letting up. OAOA wasn't there to comfort me, my friends didn't understand, and even though I had finally landed a temp job that was paying me enough money, I could hardly make it through the day and I was out at the doctor's so much that I feared my job, the only stability in my life, would leave me too, and then I'd truly be fucked. I didn't have the energy for another loss like that.

So here's why today is important. Today, I am no longer at temp. Today I become an official employee at Comcast, where I'll be getting paid more than I've ever been paid in my life, where I'll have benefits that I've never had, where I'll work in the biggest building in the city, and where I'll have the opportunity to create a career in the arena where my dreams lie. I stand up tall because through everything...through the nightmare that was OAOA, through my sickness, through the greatest economic recession of our time, through the mental warfare that life put me through, from standing at the bottom of the deepest, darkest hole I'd ever stood in, I reached up to the light and said "No, I'm not giving up."

And I succeeded. I have a wonderful job. I have a place of my own with wonderful roommates. My symptoms are subsiding. I feel secure without OAOA. I feel secure on my own. This blog itself has given me structure and motivation. I have regained faith in my dreams. I'm writing every day, I'm developing every day, and I'm growing every day.

I feel renewed. I feel rejuvenated. And I welcome the possibilities once more.

2010 started off as if it were the end. The rest of 2010 is just the beginning.

-Spontaneous K

My Own Medicine

2010-02-27T14:15:00.000-08:00

I’ve been feeling really good these past couple days. And sometimes I feel like there is some societal rule that feeling good isn’t allowed. At least in America. If you’re feeling good, then something’s wrong with you, because life is hard, god damnit, and you’re supposed to be miserable.

Blasphemy, I say!

If there’s one thing I’m not going to feel guilty about, it’s feeling good. Right now I’m feeling good about my life. I’m feeling good about my job, I’m feeling good about my health, I’m feeling good about my looks, and I’m feeling good about my dreams and my goals. I’m enjoying life, as they say. Even better, I’m enjoying these days because I’m feeling like I’m moving on from OAOA. Thank the lord.

One of the reasons I'm feeling so great is based on an idea I broached in My Great Disconnect about challenging beliefs and logic. Posting my photo on hotornot.com for the world to see...and rate...was a scary thing for me to do. I was forced to see the truth of how the women of the world perceived me. What I discovered was that I was perceived higher than I perceived myself. It was not only an instantly confidence booster, but it allowed me to see what I was doing wrong in person, both mentally and socially, to have people perceive me the way I perceive myself.

Seeing things from new perspectives is always great. Sometimes, though, it gives you a taste of your own medicine. When you've been doing something wrong for so long, something you thought was okay but couldn't figure out why it didn't work, it's not until it's done to you that you realize why your methods were bad. Hot or Not also helped me to figure that out.

I spent about four hours last evening talking to a girl from Albany, NY who was all about me from the minute I clicked "Yes, I want to meet you too." She went on and on about how handsome and wonderful I was, how she wanted to travel immediately down from Albany to meet me, how we'd talk every day and share everything, and she kept apologizing for being so forward.

At first it was endearing. After a short while, it got overwhelming. Today, it's scary.

I can't be too upset with her, because I get it. I've been her. I'm really picky, and when I find someone that I actually like and connect with, I latch on to them with the excitement and desperation of a five year old, thinking I'll never find someone else and that they MUST love me. That isn't the way to woo the heart of the object of your affection.

I'm starting to feel good in my own skin for once. I'm starting to realize that I create my own value and that I don't need someone to make me happy. And now I have to help this girl learn that, at least a little bit, by doing the right thing and letting her know that she's laying it on a little too thick. Just because we love the same activities, Scrubs, Video Games, music, etc...doesn't necessarily mean we're going to make a great couple. Besides, she lives in Albany and I live in Philadelphia.

This is a great lesson for me to learn, especially now that I'd like to be a little more laid back with my relationships, and that's to let things move as they should. Slowly and effortlessly. Pressure and coercion don't create good relationships, patience and wonder do. I can see clearly by her actions that she's making the same mistake I was making with OAOA. She's already depending on me for her happiness.

I can see now how I've made some girls feel in the past by being intense. I think I'll now opt for the confident, secure, and mysterious disposition. :)

-Spontaneous K

My Love of the Blogosphere

2010-02-26T10:37:00.001-08:00

This is seriously my new favorite thing. You never know what's going to happen. :)

I lift my glass to free, open, and anonymous self-expression.

God bless you blogosphere and everyone out there, whether you're listening or not.

-K

My Beef With Mornings

2010-02-26T07:18:00.001-08:00

There are tips and tricks to getting to sleep and staying asleep. I've used them. They work. I personally like to sleep with my head in between pillows, and have a fan blasting to create some soothing white noise (not necessarily blasting on me). I also can't go to bed on an empty stomach. That never works. Oh, and definitely pee before you go to bed.

This is going to seem like a tangent at first, but I have a point. There are a lot of things I can say I've battled in the past decade. Sickness. Broken Heart. Loss of friends. Loss of Family. Car accidents. Robbery. Firings. Layoffs. Cross-country moves. Anxiety. Depression. But I mean, who hasn't dealt with similar monsters in the span of a decade? Some of those things are easier fights to win than others, and some are quite long lasting. But if there's one behemoth who has successfully bested me over and over again since as far back as I can remember it's this one:

Waking up in the god damn morning.

I'm not a morning person. I'm just not. I'm a night owl. And every single time I go to sleep at night, I tell myself I'm going to get up early and be productive. I usually even feel pretty motivated about it. But when that alarm rings, man...the battle is already lost. It never, ever, happens. And I truly don't know how to change it.

It doesn't matter if I get ten hours, eight hours, or six hours, if I'm awake before eight o'clock, I'm not a happy person and I have significant trouble getting out of bed. Heck, I don't even like waking up before 10am. I'm writing all this because my stupid alarm didn't go off and I was 45 minutes late to work, which nullifies some of the overtime I put in yesterday. Crap in a hat.

On the other hand, it's Friday. On the other hand, it's freaking snowing again and I'm going to be working some overtime this weekend, so a huge break isn't exactly in order. But on the other, other hand, I'm feeling a lot better, which means maybe I can actually go out and enjoy myself, perhaps with Jess who I've been spending my evenings with. We haven't really gone out to do anything yet, so I'm looking forward to a roommate outing. Last night we watched "Can't Hardly Wait" while she did homework and I did screenwriting. Company is wonderful.

I'm mad at myself for this. But I dig her.

Tara wasn't feeling well due to mid-terms, so we pushed back our date-type-thing to Sunday. At least she feels bad and keeps rescheduling. That's a good sign!

Aside from feeling better physically, this whole HotOrNOt thing has really opened my eyes. Not just about how other people perceive me, but how I perceive myself. When it comes to the 1-10 scale of how attractive someone is, I gave myself somewhere between a 6.5 and a 7.5, depending on the day...an 8 if I really did myself up. Last time I gave you an update, 54 women had rated me with an average of 9.3. Now, 131 women have rated me and my average is a 9.4. If 131 women think I have an average rating of 9.4, then it's my perception of myself that's skewed.

I thought long and hard about this. What does acting like a 9.4 entail? I don't want to be some vain, arrogant asshole, but it certainly feels good to know that you look good and others think so, right? This is about confidence and self-esteem, not arrogance. I can still be my nice, fun self without beaming to everyone that I'm attractive so they should love me. But putting myself down and thinking I'm less attractive than I am and am therefore unable to attract a lot of women...well that's counter-productive! It's a self-fulfilling prophecy!

If I can learn to feel like a 9.4, secure and happy in my own skin, more girls will react, and I'll be less likely to do that clingy "don't leave me" type deal that I do all the time. So how can I learn to feel like a 9.4?

Well...I took a solid look at the picture I posted. It's professional, but not doctored. A good friend of mine in LA, a professional photographer, took the picture in his studio with a great camera and great lighting. It's basically a headshot. In the photo I'm dressed well, my hair's done nicely, I'm standing tall, chin up, small confident smile, easy eyes...I'm relaxed. I'm secure of myself.

That's the key.

I need to dress and groom myself and treat my body and mind like I'm a 9.4 at all times because I am a 9.4. When I'm not shaving and sluggin' around and wearing wrinkled clothes and not sitting up straight or holding my head high or smiling, of course people (and myself) are going to think I'm a 6 or a 7!

It's time to bring out the 9.4 and see what happens. :)

-Spontaneous K

P.S. I've been in the situation above, where you hear your brother having sex with a girl you like. NOT fun times.

My 20th Post

2010-02-25T06:51:00.001-08:00

That's the music I want to play every single time I receive something awesome in my life. I want it to play and I want to be able to hold the item up really high with a delirious expression of achievement on my face, just like Link does. (If you can't see the above video, wait a minute, I'm working this post remotely.)

I have a confession to make. I'm a bigger nerd than you all think I am. And Scrubs is not my number one passion. So what takes the cake? What's my number one love that surpasses Scrubs and even OAOA?

Video Games. Mmmm. Particularly old school ones.

While life would be fun if it were like Scrubs, life would be even MORE awesome if it were like video games. If I could touch a flower that would allow me throw fireballs, or shoot a hookshot to the signpost across the street and have it pull me across, shit would be amazing. Life, of course, isn't like that, so I live vicariously. And that's why I have this blog with my internal commentary! Because when I do receive fun trinkets or great objects, the above sound plays in my head.

So what did I get? Well, it's a little boring compared to something like the Mirror Shield, but I've received some medication that's going to help me with some chronic symptoms that have been plaguing my life for the past eight weeks. Plaguing is not a hyperbole...I haven't talked much about it in my blog, because it's a little deeper than I'd like to get here, but the fact that I'm on the path to recovery is a happiness I can't explain. When I would feel really ill, it didn't matter who was thinking what about me, it didn't matter what OAOA was up to...it really wouldn't have mattered if she were there and comforting me because nothing could make it better. When it comes down to the hierarchy of needs, things regarding health, like thirst, hunger, breathing, and illness or physical pain, surpass all other "needs", including the "need" of another human being. As someone who has been perfectly healthy his whole 25 years, and for the first time thought life was potentially over, this is a great lesson for me to learn.

MY KARMA

The universe is not without it's irony. While I sit here day after day complaining and wondering about what to do with OAOA, I'm not the only human being that's having problems with their loved ones. For the past week or so, I've been receiving daily calls from my friend Edward in LA, not only to check on me, but to commiserate since he is also going through a tough break up. Then, at around 3:30am last night, I receive a phone call from my friend Katie (my actual best friend, not someone on and off), who had moved to Chicago back in August. When I answered the phone, she was crying. She had just broken up with the boy she moved there with, the boy she planned to marry. The love, it seemed, was no longer there, and they were no longer able to continue working at it. So I thought to myself: "She's one of my best friends, and this is the universe's way of telling me to pay it forward. She needs my help, and it doesn't matter that it's three in the morning. Comfort her and be there for her."

So I was. And she wished that he (her boyfriend) could sit there and comfort her when she needed it, just like I would at 3am.

I have what it takes to be an amazing boyfriend. I've got what it takes to be an amazing friend. So I'm taking these opportunities, especially ones like with OAOA, to improve flaws that keep romantic relationships from occurring.

I spent several hours talking to my new roommate Jess last night. She's very attractive, don't get me wrong, but I had no romantic attraction to her when I moved in, just a slight physical one. But the more we talked, the more we realized we have in common, as far as goals and dreams are concerned. We have a lot of fun. And it's nice to be able to come home to someone who says "Hi! How was your day?" or "Good morning!" when you wake up or "Good night!" when you go to bed.

Romantic roommate relationships are trouble. But we're only going to be roommates until May 31st. I'm not going to pursue anything, because I'm certainly enjoying what I've got...but there really is a time limit, and because of that, anything can happen.

And remember Tara from My Small World, the girl I met during snowmageddon? Well, I'm having drinks with her tonight. Not necessarily in a romantic manner, but still...new friends are great. :) And it's going to be during another snow storm no less.

As clearly stated by the title, this is my 20th Post. That's a small milestone for me, and I'm glad I made it here. I'm excited to see where posts 40, 60, 100, 200, and so forth bring me. As of right now, things are looking bright.

Thanks to all my readers and to all the new friends and old friends in my life. Going back one more time to my health...if I can manage to overcome what I've been through in the past two months...then there truly isn't anything I'm not capable of doing.

-Spontaneous K

My Attempt to Communicate with OAOA

2010-02-24T08:19:00.001-08:00

Okay. I know I promised I wouldn't mention OAOA, or at least I would keep it to a minimum...but a wise commenter was correct in saying that as much as this blog is for the readers, it's also about me, and if venting about OAOA helps me move on or feel better, then by all means, write about it.

Three days after she told me she needed space, she emails me asking me how my move was and such. This, naturally, is confusing for me. For the past couple days, we've been shooting emails back and forth sporadically, very very basic emails. Y'know, "How are you? What's Atlanta like? How are things in Philly? Liking your new roommates? Etc. Etc."

Bullshit conversation. It's bullshit. I'm no master when it comes to sociology, but as a writer for over 18 years, I'm trained to read subtext. In a real life conversation, it's a little bit more difficult for me, but don't you ever write me anything before considering that I can read between the lines. And I can read between the lines very well.

OAOA wants something from me. I don't know what it is, but she wants something. Perhaps she's bored in Atlanta. Perhaps she doesn't have anyone to talk to now that she's been stripped of her core group of friends for a short time and is missing the connection we once had. I don't know exactly what she wants, but there is purpose in her emails. Even if it's just to remind me that she still cares about me after hurting me.

People don't just speak. We don't just act. That's not what words and actions are for, they're not a random spattering of expression. Words are used to control. While we think they are used to convey, the underlying goal of speaking...or doing anything...is to attempt to manipulate the environment in a manner that is more acceptable to us. There is no denying this. So whether her motives are small or big, malicious or well-intended, she's attempting some form of control. And I think she's trying this because I always gave her control, and now she thinks it's gone because I told her I'd give her the space she wanted.

Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes we don't always want that space even when we say we do.

I can say that because I've done it. I've said goodbye to her because I couldn't handle just being her friend while being as close to her as we were, but then days later I'd contact her again because I didn't really want her gone.

We basically were in a relationship without having any sex. Wonderful emotional bliss, absolutely no sexual release. This, naturally, created some wicked frustration...at least on my end.

Yesterday, she responded to an email that I had sent the day before. She took an entire day to respond. That's fine. I was actually okay that she took that long to respond. But I had to take a friend's advice and WAIT. Don't respond right away, wait as long as she did to respond. It drives them nuts. It shows you have control, and a life of your own. Normally, I'd have been so excited to get an email from her that I'd write back instantly. But I waited. A whole day. And guess what happened when I emailed her back (with an email as brief as she sent me).

She got back to me within twenty minutes.

Maybe I'm looking too deeply into this. Maybe I'm not. But I know how she and I work. So I'm playing this game very carefully. She asked me something in this last email that threw me off a bit. Most of the conversational questions have been rather blah...inquisitive questions that any friend would ask. She, however, ended her email with "How have you been sleeping?"

Once again, could be reading too deeply into this, but I also may be reading it correctly. People who aren't your girlfriend or your mother don't ask you how you've been sleeping. People don't care about how you've been sleeping unless they genuinely care for your well being. As stated in My Sleepless Nights, I have nightmares, and I've been going through a lot that hasn't been allowing me to sleep very well.

Here's where I'm stuck. This could simply be her way of saying "I'm wrong and I'm sorry" because she doesn't know how to communicate how she's feeling, but because she doesn't know how to communicate how she's feeling, I have no way of knowing unless I ask.

I think I just answered my own question before writing the sentence I was going to.

The friendship/pseudo-relationship is already in a shit-storm and can't get a whole lot worse. I'd probably even benefit from it being completely over. So I was wondering if I should just NOT say anything and let this continue to build back into the nice thing that we had before. But then I realized that would be self-masochism. It might be nice for a little while, but the problem isn't solved. Even if we're going to be friends, we need to be able to communicate. I was afraid to ask her what she's thinking by contacting me and asking me about my life when she said she wanted space, in fear of her leaving again, but when it comes down to it, unless she learns to open up and communicate, she's not good for me and shouldn't be in my life anyway. It's not as big of a risk as I think it is.

So here goes nothing. Let's decipher her motives. Wish me luck.

-Spontaneous K

My Second Steps Forward

2010-02-23T06:09:00.001-08:00

They say the first step is the big one. I say it still takes a manner of awesomeness to take step two and keep going.

I want to thank everyone who provided me with the insight that I was begging for yesterday like an incapable fifteen year old: Passionista, imerika, Katie, and JenJen. (All girls! Booya! Oh, and please check out their blogs via the comment section of this post, cuz dey legit [Note to self: Stop using street talk. And colons. And ellipses...and parentheses, especially parentheses within parentheses]). Sometimes a verbal smack from someone who isn't clouded by their panicky emotions is enough to bring us back to reality and allow us to think clearly.

From the bottom of my heart...I'm not an incapable fifteen year old, no matter how much I act like one (It's fun sometimes, when there isn't a real problem). I'm a capable 25 year old, and I'm going to start acting like it. Each of my blogger friends said much of the same thing with their own special touch. I'm a grown man, I'm awesome, and I need to live my life independent of what this girl is doing.

She wants her space? She's got it. Best for the both of us. So onward from her.

From this point forward I'm going to attempt to keep any words of OAOA to a minimum. I've been writing this blog for 17 days now (Woot!) and I've noticed most of my talk is about her. That's unfortunate, because I have an entire life to talk about. Like a whole one. Whole being key word. Not sort of empty because I don't have her or some other girl, but a whole life.

Even though I have written a lot about her, the point of this blog has become truly apparent to me now that I'm 17 days in. It doesn't matter what's going on, there's always a story to be told, there's always something that you can learn and experience in your day, even if you think you did the same thing you always do on a Tuesday. (If you recall from My Hump Day, I don't even know where to start on how I feel about Tuesdays. Staff Meeting. Blah.) I'm proud that I've kept it going for this long, and I'd love to be able to reach the month milestone, the two month milestone, and, god willing, the year milestone. How cool would that be to be able to look back at the year and see a story each day? To truly understand what you went through over the course of one year? I'd like to see it. At this age, time flies by so quickly that I've found myself come each December 31st going "What the hell happened this year?"

If I write here, I'll know. :)

I should start labeling the posts though. It's hard, because I do the posts remotely, since work blocks www.blogger.com. I'll figure something out though. Perhaps go back at the end of the day and label the shiz out of them. Okay, I'll keep with the street talk. It's funny when a neurotic Jewish guy tries it.

On a great note, my new roommates, Jess and Josie, are awesome. I stayed up (WAY too late) talking with them and getting to know them. They even invited me out with them, which is really cool. It's nice to be able to come home and have people to talk to for once, people you enjoy. Even though it's only for three months, I'm thinking it'll be a three months that makes a good mark. And if it doesn't...oh well, right? Onward Ho:

Lastly...and I'm not a vain human being, I'm just completely surprised at this...a friend of mine suggested I try www.hotornot.com to try and meet girls. He's dating a few from there right now, and I was like "Really? From there?"

Why not.

I posted my pic. Now, I use the Internet a lot. A lot a lot. People are assholes. There are some mean mother-effers out there (I'm feeling the need to keep this blog semi-clean). For those not familiar with "Hot or Not", you rate pictures of others from 1 to 10 based on attractiveness. You can't really get more superficial than that. I expected myself to be in the 6-7 range, average.

Hmm. No.

Very much to my surprise, after having 54 women vote me thus far...FIFTY-FOUR (that may not sound like a lot in terms of the Internet, but imagine 54 people standing in front of you and then telling you what they rate your attractiveness. It's enough to make or break your ego)...I have an average of 9.3.

I'm not bragging. Because I still don't really believe it. It doesn't make sense. Somebody's joshin' with me.

Or maybe I should just give myself some more credit.

But a 9? Really? :)

-Spontaneous K

My Utter Confusion/My Call For Help

2010-02-22T06:30:00.001-08:00

I'm trying not to do double titles here, since Scrubs never did that...but this morning calls for desperate measures. Anyone out there who's reading my blog, and I know you're mostly twenty-somethings, please, I need some assistance here. This isn't a pathetic cry for comments, I'm quite happy with the amount that I get, I just don't know what to do right now.

So, if you've been following, you know all about My On And Off Again Best Friend (OAOA), My Wishful Thinking, My Wishful Thinking Part II, and My First Steps Forward.

For those who haven't been following, I've basically got a girl messing with my heart who I thought came back into my life for a brief moment, upset me by raising my hopes by having a great time with me and giving me a gift, and then dropping off the face of the earth again, saying it was too much too soon.

She wanted her space. Like a gentleman, I obliged.

For the first time since I've known her, she didn't allow me to see her before she went away for a little while. This weekend she took a trip to Atlanta until March 2nd. In the past five months, every time we had to go away, even if it was for a long weekend, she'd make sure she got to see me.

Not this time.

That really put the nail in the coffin for me. I thought it was done. She can come to me when she wants me, I guess, but my friends are telling me to let it go for good.

I had half a mind to unfriend her from Facebook. But I didn't. Because I don't like saying goodbye to people. I like to try to make things work. Although, I'll admit, I'm impatient.

The day after we said goodbye last week, my Facebook status was "Picking up the keys to my new apartment tonight. Life changes. Onward Ho!"

She "liked" my status. Why? Why would she do that? I tried not to over think it. Did she like that I was moving? Did she like that I was accepting that life changes and that I was planning on moving on from her? I don't know. I tried to ignore it the best I could. And I did.

This morning, my phone buzzes. It's a Facebook message. From her. Asking me "How was the move?"

That's all. Short, simple. But SO FREAKIN' COMPLICATED AT THE SAME TIME? Why? Why is she doing this to me? She wants me, but she doesn't want me. She cares, but she wants to care from far away. Do I answer? Do I ignore it completely and let her really drop out of my life for good? I don't know what to do. My friends say she's toxic, my family says she's toxic, and while I admit (clearly from this blog) that we have problems, they are problems I want to fix, because I love her.

Within the first 30 seconds of receiving the message, I wanted to reply. I didn't know with what. I didn't know if I should just say "The move was fine," and leave it at that. I didn't know if I should give her in depth details about how I'm liking my room and my roommates. I didn't know if I should be like "OAOA, what are you doing? You said you wanted space and it's been three days." Is she testing me?

I'm at a loss. I don't know which action to take next. I don't know what she's trying to do, whether it's genuinely find out if my move went okay because she cares, or if she's trying to get back in.

I DON'T KNOW.

And it's totally ruined my morning. Somebody please help.

-Spontaneous K

My Buddhist Brunch

2010-02-21T08:42:00.000-08:00

Darn it! I missed a day.

I had been doing so well for about two weeks, not missing one morning with a little lesson to share with the world. I guess I can get away with it because I did two posts in one day this past week. Blah. No excuses. It's been a tough week, but I gotta get back in the groove. Because the longer you let it slip, the harder it is to climb back up. And this, my friends, is a hobby I want to keep at!

We all do, don't we? Even if we can't find things to write about, we should just write. That's what it's there for.

If only I could motivate myself to go the damn gym. Blogging's a little different in that regard...you get readers and supporters, and likewise you read other blogs and support them. At the gym, everyone is all stand-offish. You don't walk in and have a bunch of regulars go "Yo, Spontaneous! You work them Pecs today! Keep at it, brotha! Lookin' solid!" No, you have a bunch of people trying not to make eye contact with anyone else because you could smell the self-consciousness in the room.

I don't know why I had that person call me brotha right there.

It always interested me how most people like to try new activities and explore new ideas with supporters...friends...people they trust. Expanding your comfort zone is a serious skill that takes hard work to master. Fortunately, it creates what is called a "Virtuous Cycle" (the opposite of the dreaded Viscous Cycle) where the more you do it, the easier it becomes and the more you want to do it. It's exciting. You want to see how far you can push yourself. Even more amazingly, people are surprised to find out that they can push themselves pretty far.

This goes back to what I was saying on My Hump Day. We often say we can't do things, immediately dismissing it as impossible, just because of the word "can't." Most times, we really just don't want to. But it's easier to do if you've got someone willing to take the plunge with you!

Yesterday morning I had brunch with two friends of mine from my previous Starbucks job. The job was a complete freakin' nightmare, but if there was one thing that kept me sane while preparing coffee for endless drones, it was the wonderful people I worked with. We were in it together. When a summer Saturday night rolled around and we knew the place was going to be rampant with delinquent kids and homeless men looking to use our bathroom as a...well, a bath...my co-workers and I would strap on our aprons, stand up tall and say "Let's get this."

Felt like "300". Except it was 3. Against hundreds. And it wasn't our stamina we had to uphold, it was our patience.

Anyhoo, Diane and Aaron were two great friends that I made there and am happy to say I've kept in touch with since I left there in November. Diane is 28, I'm 25, and Aaron is about to turn the age of all ages, 21. Between the three of us, we've got this decade in our loves covered as far as experiences go. We've got lots to talk about. And it became apparent to Aaron and Diane, through conversations I had had singularly with both of them, that I was a spiritual guy. I was into Buddhism, introspection, working towards being a compassionate, aware, awakened human being. They were too. And they wanted to bring me in to talk with them so we could figure out a place to go, a meetup in the city, where they did guided meditations and had discussions. It sounded really wonderful, and it was quite nice to know that another two friends of mine very much valued my thoughts. Thoughts they called wisdom. I certainly wasn't trying to be modest, but I had to let them know they I barely knew more than they did, if I truly did. I have a lifetime of learning to go.

Afterwards, I spent about $200 at Target gathering materials to create a sleeping space in my new apartment. Air mattress, mattress pad, pillows, comforter, lamp. I hadn't owned this stuff since Los Angeles. And while I didn't particularly like parting with the money, since I don't have a whole lot saved just yet, it was a really nice feeling to know that this stuff was mine. I had a bed. I had my own pillows. These weren't my parent's, these weren't my sister's, this was MY stuff, in MY room.

That's enough to make any 25 year old feel good about themselves. :)

-Spontaenous K

My First Steps Forward

2010-02-19T05:29:00.000-08:00

I ran the full range of emotions last night. I ran the circle from depressed to denial, to anger, to bargaining, and after it was all said and done and time to go to sleep, boom...acceptance. For now.

From what I understand of myself, and even what some others have told me about their experiences, it's always a little numbing after something like this happens. The initial shock wears off rather quickly, and then you feel okay. Relieved even. "That wasn't that bad!" Until a few days later when the realization kicks it that this really did happen and it's going to be harder to deal with than you thought.

Well, I'm ready for that. Wouldn't be the first time. I did something stupid last night after OAOA and I said our final, final goodbyes. I contacted Firefly because I wanted some console. From the bottom of my heart, I know I wasn't trying to reignite any flames...I just wanted to talk to an old friend that would understand. Unfortunately, even in times of need, those you want to be there won't always be...I haven't heard back from her and most likely won't.

I was able to speak with one friend who is going through a bit of a break up himself, my boy Edward, who was like an older brother to me when I lived in LA. After listening attentively to each other's woes, he gave me the greatest compliment he's ever given me:

"Y'know why I like talking to you? Because you're so comfortable with how you feel that it makes me feel okay to feel what I'm feeling."

This calmed me in way you probably can't understand. As a guy who has difficulty masking his emotions to the outside world (often why I get called a girl...or gay), I've always been self-conscious about it. My feelings are way out there for everyone to see, whether I like it or not. I always viewed that as being vulnerable or melodramatic. But apparently to Edward, it's confidence and trust...it's acceptance. I am feeling how I feel and I'm okay enough to share it with the world. At least that's his perspective. I like it.

Moving onward the best I can, it's time to seek out a new cast (or let one come to me) and enjoy what I've got. Great friends, a great job, great family...not much else I could ask for. The love life will come. I just need to feel a little more comfortable in my own skin. Neediness, says Edward, is the greatest opposition to attraction. Once I'm fully confident and secure with myself on my own, that will be apparent to others, and they'll come to me.

I know this blog only has a view subscribers thus far, and I'm not even sure if they're reading it regularly...I just know that I've found myself really looking forward to writing a post each morning. I know someone will read this, even if it's just me down the line looking back, and they'll gain something from it.

I take my showers at night because I have trouble getting up in the morning. This morning I managed to get up to take that shower. I underestimated how refreshing a shower in the morning makes you feel.

I pick up the keys to my new apartment after work today.

Onward Ho! :)

-Spontaneous K

My Wishful Thinking, Part II

2010-02-18T17:14:00.000-08:00

For those just tuning in, please read My Wishful Thinking, Part I.

This is my second post in one day. (My Sleepless Nights, Part II does not count.) So something must be going on.

There's one major reason why OAOA and I just don't work as a couple. If we had never been intimate, we would have worked great as best friends, and I'll tell you why in a second. But as a couple, we were doomed, unless she was willing to accept my help...which right now it seems she's not.

I am someone who is not only very good at communicating how I feel, but I don't even know how to not communicate how I feel. I must get it out of me. If I try and hold it in, my body feels like it's going to explode. Seriously. My emotions create some pretty amazing physical symptoms, and I need to express what's going on inside of me. I do that verbally or through writing, but I can very succinctly describe what I want and how I'm feeling.

People who cannot communicate how they feel frustrate me. They frustrate me not only because I cannot understand why they cannot communicate how they feel, since I've always been able to (I'm working on being more empathetic in this manner) but also because I can sense how people are feeling. When I know someone, if I feel a connection with them, I know exactly what they're feeling almost to the point that I can express it for them. And sometimes I do. And sometimes that amazes people.

OAOA is someone who has an extreme impediment when it comes to talking about how she feels. But she loved talking to me and communicating with me because I could sense her...I understood where she was coming from, she opened up to me, because for whatever reason, I connected with her and I felt the same things she did, and I was able to communicate them and she wasn't. That's why she latched on to me. In the beginning.

When the lines of romance got crossed, though, I became someone she couldn't confide in because her feelings were about me. That's when she would shift her social patterns and her body language, all of which I could read to the "t", and I would literally have to pry out of her what was wrong. Sometimes that would take me days to a week. And during those days I would feel so much sadness, anger, frustration, guilt, and fear that I was almost incapacitated. I was like that because she wasn't letting me know what was going on. She felt all those same emotions...because she was unable to tell me what was going on.

Imagine playing "20 Questions" but already knowing the answer, and it's about how someone you love can't be around you. It's not fun.

That's why I had the dreams I had last night. That's why I haven't been right since I saw her last Saturday. Because I knew how she was feeling, and she wouldn't tell me. She's not comfortable with me yet. She wants her space. And when I asked her why she couldn't just tell me that, she straight up said (via text, because she hates talking when she's uncomfortable) "Because I can't communicate how I'm feeling."

So there she goes. Off again. Until she's ready. Which may be never. I want to say I feel like I've blown my chances, but at the same time I'm not sure this could have gone down any other way. Two people like us were bound to interact in such a way, right?

Doesn't make me any less sad that she's gone. Because I love her. I do. And there's nothing worse in life than not being able to be with the ones you love.

At least I was able to handle the situation with grace, and I didn't allow all the anger and frustration I've been feeling since the weekend become apparent. I was noble and honest, and said I wanted the best for her. Which, right now, meant me not being around. I really hate when that's what's best.

I helped her all the time. With everything. Whenever she needed it. And I truly believed I could help her learn to communicate how she was feeling. Maybe in an imagined future.

For now...I'm really sad.

That's all.

-Spontaneous K

My Sleepless Nights, Part II

2010-02-18T15:29:00.000-08:00

I stumbled upon this and thought it was relevant. :)

Courtesy of http://wttf.org

My Sleepless Nights

2010-02-18T05:51:00.001-08:00

The subconscious mind is a tricky thing. Even if you think you're telling it wonderful thoughts to send you off to sweet dreamland...it knows what you're really thinking.

Last night was one of those nights for me. One of those nights where no matter how many times you wake up and fall back asleep, you find yourself in the same dream. About the same person.

I haven't been quite right since I saw OAOA last Saturday. She threw me for a loop, as women do, and I interpreted her actions one way when they...as I'm finding out with much disappointment...meant another. And while I wanted to deny any emotions of dependency or need for this girl, my subconscious mind was not about to have it. "YOU WILL KNOW THY TRUTH! YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR EMOTIONS EXPRESSED!"

Oh, did I. (My subconscious mind doesn't sound like God. But maybe it should. Or maybe not.)

I spent my eight hours of rest caught in a whirlwind of dreams all revolving around the same premise: I need OAOA and she's no where to be found. I want her attention, her compassion, in some way shape or form, and she's either ignoring me, or I'm panicking and running all over the place, looking for her or asking people where she is. And after eight hours of foggy meandering, my search came up fruitless. Each time I'd wake up from the dream feeling exactly the way I felt in the dream. Hurt. Lost. Abandoned. Betrayed. Without Value. Oh, and out of breath.

What's unfortunate about the matter is that the dream isn't a whole lot different from real life, and I think its message of a fruitless search is extremely important. The mind and the body know what's good for it, and the dream wasn't there for no reason. In fact, this isn't the first time I've had a series of dreams like this with someone.

In My Great Disconnect, I mentioned someone I spent eight years trying to convince our relationship was worth it. For the sake of anonymity, I'll keep with the nicknames, and I'll call her Firefly.

Firefly was a saga in my life. (I even plan to write a book about it.) It's not just a tiny little piece, right now it accounts for an entire third of my existence. It was a period that forced me to learn, the hard way, what it meant to love someone. And when I had fears that Firefly was going to leave me for good and I'd be left alone to my own hurtful thoughts and emotions, those terrible dreams would nag at me, specifically at times like this. Times where we just started interacting again and aren't sure where it's going to lead.

Now that I'm awake and have more control over what I'm thinking and feeling, it's apparent that I'm once again making the same mistake I made with Firefly with OAOA. But at least I'm realizing it a lot sooner.

It sucks. Every time. Having feelings for someone that doesn't reciprocate never gets easier. Sometimes it gets harder. But the more it happens, the more we come to realize that true happiness comes from within ourselves, and we're the only people responsible for it in our lives. That doesn't mean it's easy to provide it for ourselves...

...but do we want to take the easy road and leave our fate up to others? Or do we want to take our happiness into our own hands?

I'm up for the challenge.

-Spontaneous K

My Hump Day

2010-02-17T07:09:00.001-08:00

I think favorites are funny. The whole idea of a favorite is a tad over emphatic, since there's always a better something out there. Being the "best" is impossible.

I even mentioned to my friend Dan last night how when Scrubs finally goes off the air, "Community" will be my new favorite show because it's the only other one that consistently gets me to laugh out loud, and the humor is as sharp and as edgy as Scrubs. I'm also a Chevy Chase fan until I die.

Let's not talk about the end of Scrubs right now though. :(

So when it comes to days of the week, or even months of the year, it's always interesting for me to hear people's favorites and least favorites. Although I don't think I've ever heard anyone say, "Dude, I love Wednesdays." Or any variation thereof containing Wednesday. I have to stop saying dude.

I, too, very much dislike Wednesdays, and it's apparent why. People give Mondays crap, but I also feel there is a manner of acceptance on Monday shared by fellow co-workers. (I'm going by the normal 9-5, Monday to Friday work week demographic. There very well could be people who can't wait for their Mondays or Wednesdays). On Monday, everyone may be grumpy, but at least they're all grumpy together, and the grumpiness is empathized. It's a new work week, no one wants to be here, except for that consistently and exuberantly cheery human being who you think is probably a psycho at home, because nobody can be THAT happy all the time. Everyone knows that person.

Even Sundays can get at bad rep. Sunday evenings at least. Because you've always got that looming fear of Monday over your head, or that guilt that you actually relaxed over the weekend instead of getting things done. Sundays can be subtely mean in that way.

Tuesday I just can't explain.

But Wednesdays can wreak havoc on a person's life, each and every week, especially if the weeks have become mundane. It's that mid-point (hence the hump) where you're close enough to the weekend to start thinking about it (unlike Mondays or Tuesdays), but far enough from it that it seems like it'll never come (unlike Thursdays and Fridays). If you're week isn't good by Wednesday, it's tough at this point to rebound, and I've found it's the hardest day to pull yourself out of bed. You reflect on what you have or haven't already done this week, and how you're going to make it through the the next two days.

Grrr, this is why I watch Scrubs. Because I find myself falling into the half-empty category...especially on Wednesdays. I'm working on viewing life with a more half-full perspective. When I found myself having trouble getting out of bed this morning, I heard myself saying "I can't." And I pondered what that really meant. How often do I say I can't? How often does it actually mean "I don't want to?"

When you think about it, 9 times out of 10, or even more, we CAN do the things we think we can't. We just don't want to. Either because it's hard or we're scared. So even when we (or I) tell ourselves "I can't be happy,"...I'm inclined to believe we just don't want to do the things required for us to be happy.

So when I find myself thinking "I can't handle Wednesdays", I really mean that I don't want to handle Wednesdays. Because every Wednesday I come out alive. I'm just not accepting that Wednesday is a part of life, and that it'd actually be easier if I welcomed it, just like every other negative life experience.

I was going to go into the idea of daydreams and having fun with situations in order to get through tough days (and I had a nice JD's Fantasies clip to go with it. I'll save that for another post), but I think I've touched on something more important. So here's a more serious clip from Scrubs.

What do you find yourself saying you can't do? I bet you that you can do it. Whether you want to or not.

-Spontaneous K

My Great Disconnect

2010-02-16T06:07:00.001-08:00

This is an important post.

This morning, I did something I haven’t done…ever really…except for the time I spent 10 days in Israel, but even then I had a replacement on me.

I left my cell phone (more accurately my blackberry) at home. That’s right, ladies and gents. I am, in the 21^st century, the year 2010, without my cell phone. It is not on my person. So what the hell does that even matter?

Allow me to explain.

My crackberry (not a typo for anybody not a techie nerd) is my livelihood, my bread and butter. It connects me to everyone and everything I could ever want. It has every phone number I could ever need, I can reach anyone at any moment, I know the time, the temperature, the weather hour by hour, I can get directions, I can get definitions, I can browse the internet at my leisure, I can keep notes, I can keep count, I can keep a calendar, I can listen to music, I can watch videos, I can see what my friends are up to, I can…lose myself completely.

I’ve admitted to myself that I’d quicker give up my car than I would give up my cell phone. And, to validate the point I’m going to make next, I still wouldn’t give up my car that easily.

Why?

We live in a world defined by the things we have. And that includes the people and social networks we have. My blackberry is worth so much more if I have 500 people I can call instead of five. Or maybe that’s just my skewed logic. And I’ll get more into that later.

While I can’t speak for everyone, I know I don’t speak solely for myself when I say that we think we own our things, but they actually end up owning us. I heard a quote yesterday that was probably the creepiest one I’d ever heard: “Lions and tigers were once the kings of the jungle and now they’re in zoos. I suspect the same future for us.”

And while you may not see humans in the same kind of zoo, it’s a metaphoric zoo. A digital one. One called technology. We’re trapped and we don’t even know it. How Matrix of me.

Now, it’s not so drastic for everyone out there. Not everyone is addicted to their things and addicted to connection. I, on the other hand, kind of am. And that’s why this is important for me. My First Internet Enemy and I had an enlightening conversation about the foundations of beliefs. For the past decade I’ve been feeling a specific way about life, and for the past couple years, at least, I’ve been trying to change it, to no real avail. Or so I THOUGHT I’ve been trying to change it. My circumstances and the people in my life have certainly changed, but how I view life hasn’t changed at all. I’ve learned a lot, but I haven’t applied anything. Because my beliefs are so grossly ingrained in me. So how does one go about changing their beliefs?

Logic. Beliefs are built upon logic. We believe something because it makes sense to us. When it truly comes down to it, 2 +2 = 4 is a belief honored by a logic that we were taught and a logic that we trusted and made sense to us as children. It’s universally accepted that 2 + 2 = 4, so you’d be crazy (by society’s standards) to claim otherwise. But the real truth of the matter is…we just believe that 2 +2 = 4. And until someone or something shifts our perspective, we’re always going to believe that.

This is a stupid cliché, but it’s true. Seeing is believing. And that’s why my beliefs have never been changed. I’ve never witness something that challenged my logic. So what belief am I particularly trying to change?

What I’m worth (or not worth) and why.

Going back to the statement of having 5 or 500 people in my Blackberry, I see the world as quantitative. The more I have, the more I’m worth. The more I succeed, the more value I have. I’m addicted to praise and admiration. And every time I screw up, every time I make a mistake or hurt someone or do something that society has labeled as negative, I lose points. And since we’re human beings, we screw up a lot. It’s even worse when we make the same mistakes over and over…I know I tend to take more points off for those.

Somewhere along the line, I went way into the red…I believe…with my mistakes. So I’ve been scrambling and scrambling to make good on what I’ve done, which in cause has created more mistakes, putting me further into the red. When does it stop?!

It stops when I realize that mistakes are natural, and necessary. I should be freakin’ exhilarated every time I make a mistake, because it’s an opportunity to learn and grow, to become wiser. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and isn’t for most.

I’ve been undergoing a lot of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which is the process of changing your thoughts and beliefs in order to change how you feel. A lot of it is writing. It’s writing down your flawed views and rewriting them with more logic. This is effective. But I need to take things a step further. I need to take action. I need to see to believe. How can you change your own beliefs when you don’t even trust the logic that you’re writing down?

You can’t. The only way to do it is to challenge your logic. Somewhere deep down, I believe I need my blackberry, and I’m scared not to have it. It represents my social world, my praise, the people who care. It represents my knowledge and my status. It’s a tool that I’ve become dependent on. Without it, I’m afraid I won’t be able to take care of myself or get by…I won’t have the people who can help me close at hand.

Once again, this may not be the same for everyone, but technology has made me a tad emotionally weak. I’m unable to do things or learn things on my own because it does it for me. And I’m thinking perhaps it’s time for me to be aloof. Time to be the guy that doesn’t pick up his phone on the first ring, each time every time, but the guy who takes a while to get back to you because he’s busy, or just plain making time for himself. Why does the phone NEED to be answered when it rings? Why should my life revolve around the needs of the entire world that is packed into my mobile device?

And one of the reasons this change ultimately needs to take place is because of my On And Off Again Best Friend (OAOA). My First Internet Enemy also stated how I shouldn’t be going after someone who isn’t sure if they want to be with me, or even want me around. I shouldn’t have to prove to them I’m worth it or convince them to stick around. They should just want to. And the longer my phone is on me and she doesn’t respond, the worse I feel. So if it’s not on me, and I become less connected to it, I have a feeling I’ll become less connected to her and the idea that I need another human being (and their praise) to be happy. I spent 8 years…EIGHT FREAKIN’ YEARS… trying to convince someone who once said she loved me that we should be together always. It’s been 5 months, long months, with OAOA. It hit me this morning that I’m not going to let myself go a day longer. It will NOT be eight years again. Not even close.

It’s about time I challenged my logic and beliefs instead of questioning them. It’s about time I actually faced my fears instead of just observing them. I know there are an infinite amount of ways to view the world. And I swear by myself to see it in at least ONE other way than the way I’ve been seeing it for the greater part of my life.

I may need to invest in a watch, though. My blackberry was the only thing that told me the time…

-Spontaneous K

My Wishful Thinking

2010-02-15T10:16:00.001-08:00

Last post I mentioned the blinding pain that almost always accompanies bliss. I'm experiencing that now. And no matter how many times I dream of having this wonderful connection with another human being, it always seems to end in me feeling like the world is crashing down upon me.

As My First Internet Enemy taught me, perceived emotions at face value may not be what you think they are at all. Someone who seems like a jerk at first may actually be someone nice, reaching out in a way you're just not used to. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. Someone who seems happy and excited to be around you very well may not be.

I had a stressful weekend, but the time spent with My On and Off Again Best Friend made it all worth it. I can't begin to explain how happy I was when I was with her and how almost all my problems seemed to evaporate while we were laughing and having fun. She made it seem like she wanted us to be back to where we were. I truly thought that's what she wanted. Why else would she ask me to take her to the ER and then have dinner with me and then ask what I'm doing later in the week and ask if we were back to hanging out?

Am I missing something?

Well. It could have been what I said at the end of it all.

She and I are both extremely sensitive and over-analytical. We're the most sensitive and over-analytical people that we know. And because of that, we're constantly walking on eggshells around each other, especially since it's apparent there are higher feelings involved. This time around, I wanted us to really focus on that fact, knowing that we're like that, and just let it go. Stop worrying about what the other is thinking or feeling and just have fun.

There may not be a "this time around." We've said goodbye half a dozen times already. I'm not sure this is a chance I'm going to get.

Back to what I said at the end. As I was dropping her off and reveling in the gift she had given me, that's when she said "I'm not even sure if you're going to want it." Reminding you that it was a framed picture of her and I, I let her know that I truly did want it, and had wanted it since Christmas. And when she asked if we were back to hanging out again, I knew then and there that I had to say the right thing. I think I blew it.

I said yes. But I had mentioned being her friend on Facebook again and how I wanted to leave that up to her because I want it to be when she was ready. She didn't really give me an answer on it. I mentioned that I just wanted to have fun with her. And then we said goodbye and said we'd see each other later on in the week.

After I got home, I texted her telling her how thoughtful the gift was, and I thanked her for being my best friend. In retrospect, I realized how much pressure "best friend" sounded like.

I never got a response from that text. I called her the next day. No answer. No call back. At the end of the day, I decided to friend her on Facebook myself. Knowing she has an iPhone and is an avid Facebook user, I expected my phone to buzz rather quickly with the indication that she had accepted my request. I waited all night...my phone never buzzed.

That takes us to today. Where I've been panicking. I know her...I know her waaaaay too well, and when she's not responding to me, it's because I've said or done something that has made her uncomfortable. Due to the nature of our past, I wanted to hold out and just pretend that everything was okay, and not bother her to try and get out of her what's wrong, because she's not one to discuss it. She doesn't like confrontation. But I'm too much of a worrier to let it go. So I called her.

I was already beating myself up when the phone was ringing.

She answered, which was a good sign. When I mentioned I had asked her to be my friend on Facebook again, she questioned it, like she hadn't noticed. I'm not sure if it was a lie or not. She went on to say I sounded weird about it when I had mentioned it. Futher more, I went on to saying that we shouldn't worry about things, and that I just want to be her bud, I want things to go back to the way they were, and for us to work on not worrying about what the other thinks. I already knew I was digging myself a hole, because this sounded like a "relationship" conversation and she didn't want us to be in anything close to that. I asked her if she meant it when she said she wanted to see me later in the week. She said yes. But I have a feeling that will be canceled.

I took a walk around the building at work a couple times. I cried in the bathroom. I should have known better. This truly is my gift and my curse. I panicked when she's in my life and I'm miserable when she's not. I guess maybe it's just a curse.

It's funny how something as simple as a Facebook request or calling someone your best friend can change everything you had in mind. No matter how good the intentions. And by the way...still haven't been accepted as her friend on Facebook.

Here's a clip from "My Best Laid Plans" that fully illustrates how frustrating it can be when all you want is the best for those you love, but they just don't see it:

My Thoughts On Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T18:23:00.000-08:00

Like I'm not the billionth person to talk about their opinions on this Hallmark holiday, it still seems necessary since I've deemed myself a hopeless romantic.

What would JD do on Valentine's Day?

Probably something zany with Turk, professing his guy love, and then at the end of the episode have a problem with one of the females in his life.

My Valentine's Day was not like that. With the exception of professing my guy love for the several Turks that I have. It's fun. I like hugs. JD likes hugs.

Here's the crazy part about all this V-Day business. Over the past couple years, the day has just kind of passed me by like any other day. I've almost forgotten that it was even there, despite the onslaught of red, pink, and white hearts, bears, and what-have-you. (I actually got pretty annoyed when I saw V-Day decorations up somewhere around January 19th. V-Day does NOT need to be a month long holiday. It ain't Halloween.)

Not to say that it wouldn't be nice to have someone special on V-Day, but for the past couple years, I haven't felt obligated to. It's because...well...Valentine's Day is fabricated. I tell people on a daily basis that I love them. Why should this day be any different? I certainly thought about my potential "one" today, but not more than any other day.

It's other special days that I still seem to have problems with, and I'm SO glad they've passed. Days like my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years Eve. I actually love those holidays, but there is so much more meaning behind them that it's tough not to feel sad when you're single as they roll around. Even Halloween can be a little bit of a downer.

Wow, yeah, I sound like a putz. I try my best to enjoy those days, because that's what they're there for. To be thankful for all that you DO have, not to be focusing on what you don't. It can be hard though, when you've never had the birthday, Christmas, New Years, that you've wanted, and you see happy couples all around.

Whatever the case is, I'm just dandy this Valentine's Day. It has come and gone, I've made it through unscathed once more, and spring is just around the corner. And isn't spring all about love anyway? :)

I do have plenty of love. There's nothing like a good bromance in one's life. Here's an example:

Happy Valentine's Day to all the Bromances!!

-Spontaneous K

My On and Off Again Best Friend

2010-02-13T21:05:00.000-08:00

There are some people you say you'd do anything for. And then there's some people you'd actually do anything for.

And there's never more than one of these people in your life at any given time. But when they're there...you find yourself doing crazy things that you won't find crazy. Because they're for that person.

Mine just came back into my life. (She's a girl, by the way. Usually these people are of the opposite sex. Unless you're a homosexual. Which is fine. It's the nature of the phenomenon I'm going for here.) And she brought up this notion while I was sitting in the ER with her.

The purpose of her ER visit really wasn't an emergency. She had scraped her ankle on a metal cart two days prior and her parents were insisting she go to the ER to get a tetanus shot. And she told me it was insanely nice for me to take her to the ER and sit with her, for something as little as that. I thought hard about that...because if I wanted to go to the ER for something as little as that...well, I'm not sure I would have found anyone to go with me. Except for maybe her.

She and I hadn't spoken for about two months and were very recently getting back into exchanging words. The cause of our silence?

Well...it's a long story. Let's just say this girl could be my Elliot. Or my Rachel. Or my Pam. The "One" that I'll end up with at the end of my series. I've made out with this girl before. Our emotional lines have been crossed. We're not sure where we stand. We just know that we connect on some insane level.

When we're both not being completely neurotic, anxiety-ridden, emotional twenty-somethings.

She was at home, by herself, car-less, when her parents freaked her out enough to consider the ER. And since we were texting a bit at the time, she texts me "Um...do you think you'd be interested in taking me to the ER?"

Of course, I was at her beck and call.

Normally, this would be fine, I'd take any friend to the ER. But this is what I mean when I say "do anything for." She really didn't need to go to the ER. I had just gotten my pupils dilated from the eye doctor, so I couldn't even see straight. Philadelphia just had the most wicked snowstorm, so I didn't even know if I could make it to her place.

But I went anyway.

And we've got to be the only people who have ever sat in the ER for three and a half hours, laughing, catching up, and having the time of our lives together. My heart stood still when she said the words, "I've missed you."

I had missed her too. And while this was dangerous territory we were stepping back into, I couldn't help but be reminded the message of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (if you haven't seen the movie, spoilers ahead, so be forewarned.)

Joel and Clementine fall in love, fall out of love, erase their memories so they can move on, meet again, fall in love again, discover they've had their memories erased because their relationship didn't work, but they decide to go ahead with the relationship again anyway...knowing it won't work.

Why do they do this? Because that connection, those memories, those times where it's just that amazing and cannot happen with anyone else...those are worth the terrible, painful emotions that often accompany such bliss.

As I dropped her off at home, she told me she had my Christmas present that she had been holding onto for me since we said goodbye. It was a framed picture of her and I for my new desk and my new job. So it would feel like home.

It will now.

I can't be sure what's going to happen in the future for us. Whether the friendship will be too hard to bear, whether it will work nice and easy, or whether we'll decide to take that leap into a full-blown relationship. I just know I'm willing to take the risk.

-Spontaneous K

My Gift and My Curse

2010-02-12T06:49:00.001-08:00

Spider-man reference! I am a nerd, I know.

I am a hopeless romantic. And I loooooove being a hopeless romantic, even if it often fills my heart with pain. How masochistic. How romantic.

Hopeless, in and of itself, by definition means completely and utterly without hope. So it's redundant for me to say that maybe I'm too much of a hopeless romantic. What does being a hopeless romantic do for me? Well, it fuels my imagination and my passions, for one thing. It gives me a reason to write my stories, and it gives me a reason to live my life. It's an uninhibited endless search for all things beautiful and the ultimate sacrifice that is true love.

Yes, that does sound quite romantic, doesn't it?

Sure, those ideas get me all warm and fuzzy inside. They get the butterflies all riled up. The adrenaline pumps at the exciting thoughts and possibilities of having another human being with whom to share your life experiences. And not even just share, but share with passion and grace. We (hopeless romantics) yearn for that indescribable connection that makes us feel like we're whole.

But I suppose that would lead me into the curse part of my gift. We're already whole...so why do we feel like we're not?

When I started this blog, I did have a bit of a theme in mind when going for the voice over lessons that JD would give in Scrubs, but I didn't expect myself to keep going with the correlation and differences between television (or film) and life. Considering I'm a storyteller, that's just how I view the world, through the lens of a story. So I suppose it's natural my blog ended up being this way. Continuing on with that thought...every television show (well, most of them, but DEFINITELY sitcoms) all have their protagonist and that protagonist's "one."

You can tell is from the first episode usually. Doesn't matter how long it takes, we have no idea if the show is going to last one season or ten...but JD is going to end up with Elliot, no matter how many times they break up or how much bullshit they go through. Ross was going to end up with Rachel. Jim was going to end up with Pam. And even though we know this going in, we love to see couples get together. Why? Because we want that for ourselves. When they feel it, we feel it. That's why we get involved in stories in the first place.

Life, unfortunately, isn't as explicit when it comes to who is going to end up with who. Yes, people have love at first sight moments, but there isn't a situation in history where a bunch of people look at a man and a woman who meet for the first time and go "Shit, those two are going to end up together!"

Much like the characters in the show, though, we don't know with whom we're going to end up. I've THOUGHT after meeting some people that they were going to be my Elliot, Rachel, or Pam. But you can never be sure. And to some...to me...that's a frustrating notion. I know I'm young, but that requited love, that hopelessly romantic connection, hasn't happened for me yet, at least not for longer than a very brief period. And it makes me wonder if my curse is too...cursey.

My Internet Enemy actually became an internet friend, and we had a discussion on this topic. This was brought up because she's a Swagger Coach at www.e-swagger.com, so I thought she might have advice on my woman woes. When I wrote my post about roles in friendship, I didn't realize how close to the point I was. It's true, most people don't feel "whole". They need people, activities, experiences to make them feel alive and worthwhile. And while buddhist monks try to reach wholeness within themselves by months of solitude and meditation, and other religious folks fill themselves through whatever god they worship, those of us who aren't as spiritual or religious need some other means. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against any belief in a higher power. It's beautiful. It's romantic. And I believe in a higher power...not one of any religious texts, but I do. Unfortunately, it doesn't provide me with that wholeness. Maybe I'm not believing hard enough.

Excusing that tangent and getting back to my Frenemy and her point...she didn't tell me to stop looking for someone to fill that place in my heart, as most people in my life have suggested. She insisted that I stop looking for one person that's going to fill ALL my needs. Start understanding myself and what it is that I'm lacking in my life, make a list, and see if I can find a person who can fill one or two of those things. Find people to fill specific roles in your life. This isn't as systematic and artificial as it sounds...we all do it unconsciously. Everyone in our lives is there for a reason, whether we acknowledge it or not. We all get something out of those in our lives. And until we can find someone who does have all those qualities we're looking for, we can singular ones in many different people.

They're called friends.

I've got quite a few good ones of those. So maybe I'm a lot more gifted than I am cursed. Maybe that means I really shouldn't worry about the "ones" that haven't worked.

-Spontaneous K

My First Internet Enemy

2010-02-11T18:07:00.000-08:00

All this talk about a new cast...it wouldn't be complete without an enemy. I can't be for sure if she's a character that's going to stick around or not, but at the moment, she's firing at me.

I just joined a network called 20 Something Bloggers. It's just what it sounds like. It's an online community of 20-somethings who all have something they want to say, and have the right to say. So there's no reason why this girl, her name is Katie, shouldn't strike me down for what I've written in my about me page.

She apparently didn't like that I was envious of all of JD's girlfriend's on scrubs. And based on that, she automatically assumed that I was not spontaneous. I may or may not be truly Spontaneous...it was a nickname that a great friend of mine dubbed me a couple years ago, it stuck, and I really liked it. So, for the sake of a little bit of anonymity, I chose to use that as my pseudonym.

I wrote a piece not long ago, a note, that I posted to facebook. The subject was about artists and why we do what we do. It was also about perception, and taking the rejections with as much grace as you take the praise.

I didn't start this blog to make enemies. I didn't join 20 something bloggers to make enemies. I did it for the exact opposite...to make friends! Nothing that I've written was intended to offend anyone. But, you can never predict quite how someone is going to react.

And sometimes I shouldn't take things at face value. She just revealed she was kidding. Oops. I guess I can save the "My First Internet Enemy" title for later. :)

-Spontaneous K

My Old Cast

2010-02-11T07:15:00.001-08:00

Scrubs is in it's ninth season. Naturally, because of its lengthy circuit through prime time, it's about time to switch up the cast.

When it comes to television series with characters that viewers have grown to love, it's a very difficult thing to watch them go and transition into seeing new characters face new problems in the same hospital, office, grocery store, what have you. Often times, the show itself flops shortly after the onslaught of a new cast.

Life, fortunately, isn't that way.

The good news is, I'm actually enjoying the new cast of Scrubs, and I find myself laughing out loud and hoping for the best for these characters (with the exception of Lucy Bennet. I really think they could have chosen a better replacemen for JD). And while it took some time for me to get used to the idea that JD, Elliot, Carla, Jordan, and even The Janitor, are no longer present, the new characters have gracefully filled their empty positions.

In my two previous posts, I spoke about new people who have recent popped into my life. Tim, a fellow co-worker with whom I had drinks and a wonderful time. Tara, the lovely accounting major with whom I shared coffee and a coincidental three hour conversation. And Jess and Josie, my soon to be new roommates.

I feel as though this is the first episode in my new season. Last season, I lost a few characters. People I loved dearly, and for reasons outside of my control, they are no longer in my life. It doesn't mean I don't miss them, because I do, very much so. But as I spoke of roles, and now appropriately speak of casts, I'm curious to follow the stories of these four, and how they fit into my story. Perhaps in a few episodes, I won't miss my old cast so much, because my new cast will have gathered the attention of my heart, and I'll be having adventures that I thought I could only have with my old cast.

I don't want to say that nothing is as good as the original. That may be true in the TV/Film world, but in life, the new people we meet can most definitely affect us in ways we'd never expect. It's never too late in life to meet your new best friend, your new arch enemy...or the one you're supposed to be with for the rest of your life (even if you already thought you met that person).

In that regard, the people who are no longer a part of my life, by their choice or choices outside of their control, I will always hold a special place in my heart for them. But I'm prepared to make a little bit more room in there for a potentially amazing new set of characters.

Stay tuned.

-Spontaneous K

My Small World

2010-02-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

It's things like this that make me believe a little bit in Fate.

Humans are pre-programmed to make connections. It's the reason we believe in superstitions. Something very bad once happened to someone who walked under a ladder...or broke a mirror...or had a black cat cross his path. And back when magic was something to be believed in, these connections made sense.

So when coincidences like the one that happened to me this afternoon occur, it's no wonder we feel like there is something greater at work.

On this snowy Wednesday (oh my, have we had a lot of snow this season in Philadelphia), I was told not to come into work, so I decided to take advantage of the day to get some writing done. My local Starbucks was not open, so I opted for Cosi. It seemed most places weren't open because Cosi was PACKED.

Before waiting in line to order, I decided to would snag a table with an outlet by placing my laptop bag and coat there. It was the last one, although it was two tables put together, so it had four seats. Just as I placed my stuff down, a girl asked me very politely if she could sit with me, since she also needed an outlet and the place was packed.

How could I say no?

As I'm on the search for new friends, I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to chat with this girl. She, fortunately, was very open to chatting with me. And we chatted for a long while, discovering that we both had very similar interests. It just seemed to click. There weren't any romantic sparks or anything, at least not on my end, but the conversation was extremely fulfilling. And I've been trying to teach myself, especially when meeting women, that just because this person doesn't feel like they're "the one", doesn't mean that they're not, or that they don't have something amazing to offer me. They might even know "the one!"

Her name was Tara, and it turned out Tara and I had many more connections that we expected to. She goes to Temple...that's where I graduated. Okay, not too crazy, there are tons of people that go to Temple. She's Jewish. Also not so crazy. But when we started to talk about friends, family, and living situation, that's where things got strange.

I told Tara that at the end of the month I was moving into an apartment with two Temple Seniors. She asked who they were...I said I didn't even know their last names, I just know they are Jess and Josie.

That was all the info she needed. "Oh! I love Jess and Josie!"

She knew exactly who I was talking about. Even more coincidentally, when I had found their listing for the room on Craigslist, I didn't know that I had already been to their apartment. Their former roommate was a girl I was friends with in college. I didn't even have to see the place, I knew I loved it. Tara even knew their former roommate as well.

Tara also lives half a block from where I'm living right now.

How had we not met?

Even further, as I was talking about my family and what my brother does for a living, I mentioned that he recently got a job doing promotions at a club called Dusk in Atlantic City. Tara goes, "Oh wow, my Uncle owns Dusk."

If you think about it, every single moment in both our entire lives, every decision we've ever made, led us to sit down at that table at the same time. We were connected and we didn't even know it. So maybe Fate was playing a little part. As with my new friend whom I had drinks with last night, I can't be sure what role Tara has to play in my life, or what role I have to play in hers...but it was a nice little surprise. A nice step in a new direction.

You never know where a snowstorm might lead you. :)

-Spontaneous K

My Role as Friend

2010-02-09T20:54:00.000-08:00

Times have been rough. I won't go particularly into detail about what's happened to me in the past seven weeks, but they've been seven of the hardest in my life. That's not to say that good things haven't happened to me. I've got a great new job, I'm moving into a new place shortly. Good things! But with the coming of new things...some old things must go.

Friends are fickle creatures, even if we believe them not to be. One true calamity can often reveal who is your friend and who isn't. It's not always who you think it is. When tragedy strikes, that's when you'll discover who understands and who doesn't. You'll find out who is really willing to stay by your side while you get through it all. And sometimes the people you want to stick around the most...and thought most definitely would...are the people who have just about had enough.

While talking with my friend Edward regarding my friendships and my personality type, he mentioned that he could truly only handle one "Spontaneous." Laughing, he mentioned how other people have come into his life with personalities like mine, and he would say to himself, "Sorry, but I've already got a friend like that."

I didn't take offense. I was glad! He's one of my best friends. But I understood that even though I have a lot to bring to the table in terms of good qualities, I can be a little overbearing. He thought about that himself...how perhaps since he can be loud and obnoxious (in that endearing way) that when people meet him, they often decide to have nothing to do with him, because they already have that loud and obnoxious friend. Likewise, when I meet people, sometimes they've already got that overbearing friend that they have to hoist up and care for more often than not.

Being that person is something I'm working on changing. But it made me realize that we choose our friends for a reason. Every person that we pick to be in our life fills a different role, a different need that we have. It's not selfish. It's not even conscious. It's just how it is.

Tonight, after speaking with Edward, I was headed out to have drinks with a guy at work, a guy I barely knew. I was a little down, because a girl I'm interested in had turned down the invite to join us. But as I thought more about the situation, it occurred to me that perhaps she canceled for a reason. Perhaps I needed to have a one on one with this guy. I thought to myself, "Who knows where this could lead. Maybe he's got a role to fill in my life."

The possibility of that excited me. I hadn't been excited to go out and have a genuine conversation with a new guy in a while.

It ended up being great. And while it may just be a budding friendship now, it could be an amazing friendship later. It's always sad to see friends leave, especially when you feel as though you could have done something to make it right...but you never know if it's just the world opening the door for the next person to enter your life.

-Spontaneous K

My First Post

2010-02-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

Scrubs is my favorite television show. Why? Perhaps because I wish that life could be like that in some way. I know it's not like that, but I suppose that's the reason we watch television, or movies, or become immersed in any particular art form to begin with. It's because it removes us from what really is.

I've been told that my personality is very close to Zach Braff's character, the protagonist of Scrubs, Dr. JD Dorian. And I appreciate that. Because JD just wants to have fun and pursue his lifetime goal, but along the way he takes the time to be serious when needed. He allows himself to learn the lesson at hand. And since it's a half-hour sitcom, there is always a lesson to be learned.

If you've never seen Scrubs, JD bookends the show with a voice over. At the beginning, he foreshadows what the lesson of this episode may be, and at the end, he summarizes what's been learned.

At the end of my day, I often find myself doing the same thing. Alas, here I am, providing the world with my inner voice, my lessons learned.

And in honor of Scrubs' episode naming convention, with every one being "My..." something or other, my blog has been named "My Own Voice Over."

Thanks Scrubs. :) I hope everyone enjoys.

-Spontaneous K