Finding my happier place

Inspired by an e-mail from the MGM Grand today to find my “happier place,” I decided to try. Note that I’m not even bothering with the happy place –that’s way too ambitious right now. But happier? Sounds more achievable, anyway.

A friend gave me some interesting advice today, as I’m struggling to keep the faith in more ways than one. The advice was simply to remember that I don’t have to be perfect — that I am forgiven. Which was nice to hear at a time when I don’t mean to be doing everything wrong, yet it all sure seems to come out that way.

I was watching “Rock of Love” (because I am addicted to trainwreck reality programming) and I was watching all of these women throw themselves at Bret Michaels. (20 years ago, I might have done the same.) And I loved the one gal Destiney, who very boldly proclaimed that she was not in love with him but that she could be in time. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, but she could not boldly proclaim “I love you” like the rest of the whores skanks disease machines women on the show. In time, she was very amenable to growing to love him. But it just wasn’t really happening in those bizarre circumstances.

I realized that I’ve found myself feeling like one of those whores skanks disease machines women. No, not that I’m whoring around — just the opposite. I’ve been rather disillusioned with the other gender and have been activating my birthright (i.e., Gemini) three-foot force field around my heart and, well, my other bits. Y’all want to go out sticking your dicks in keyholes and myriad other crevices, feel free. But my health (emotional AND physical) is way more important to me.

And, I guess, I’ve fallen off the proverbial horse. In my horse-riding hiatus (ahem), I half-wonder if I’ve forgotten how to ride. 😉 My numbers were very impressive pre-30 years of age. But they’ve sort of evened out over time. Sorry, but I want quality over quantity. And as the last few go-’rounds have been, shall we say, lackluster, I really haven’t missed it.

And when I get a rare glimpse of that elusive beast called free time, I’m greedy. I want it for myself. Because even when I get some of it, it isn’t much to write home about and it’s almost always followed up with a guilt trip on how I should have spent that time.

I guess while we’re admitting things here, I realized I have my ideal in mind. I have for a while now, I guess. And that has made it really hard to want to go look for something else.

But going back to “Rock of Love,” I’m thinking that it’s the train wrecks who have more mass appeal. Apparently having steady employment, above-average IQ, lack of hygiene issues and simply carry-on baggage (as opposed to the full-out mismatched wardrobes full of suitcases that others seem to lug around) are apparently just not that attractive in this town.

I had one of those pot-calling-the-kettle-fat moments with a hostile reader who commented that apparently it’s the size of my ass that keeps me from “getting laid” as they put it. Hah. I’m not saying I don’t have opportunity — good grief, half my workplace reads this blog (do you think I’d be nuts enough to write about that stuff?), But the fact is, I don’t WANT to.

After you get through all the “this is all about me” and” “tell me all about you,” you invariably come to the point of, well, this isn’t necessarily my spiritual soulmate but hey, a few more glasses of wine and you can be my soulmate tonight. It’s annoying, it’s boring and it’s stress I don’t need. Will he call again? Should I text him? Was it something I said/didn’t say? Or … oh God please don’t let him call. Oh God please say the condom worked — where’s my period? Fuck that noise. I have so little free time that I really have no raging desire to spend it that way.

I guess, again in that “Rock of Love” vein, you just wonder whose tanks they’re filling up while you’re busy trying to only put premium-grade fuel in yours.

What was I saying about visiting a happier place? Oh well. Maybe I’ll just go play with my Nintendo for a few minutes and recharge my brain from seven hours (so far) of being in various sectors of seclusion with people I need to act somewhat professional around. And I’ll try not to wonder too much whether I should re-up my dating site subscription even though I have an unread e-mail waiting for me the moment that I would. …

2 Responses to Finding my happier place

  1. Dan :


    That is called “growing up.” Been there.

  2. Angelo De La Vega :

    Using nintendo to avoid the harsh realities of life? Awesome. The original Contra does wonders for me in these situations.