Evil Twin Theory

WOW. OK. LUNCH WITH THE CRUSHEE TODAY. Looks like we're a go for an illicit affair. I see 'no tell motels' in our future. She is going to need some reassurance that the physical thing is going to work out for us. She wants to have this relationship with me but she wants to make sure it will work first. I completely understand. She's afraid that when I see her flaws I'll change my mind. She thinks all men are looking for Barbie Dolls or that I'm incapable of loving human imperfection. Boy, is she wrong. I'm not looking for perfection at all. Or, if I am, its a kind of perfection that lurks beneath the skin. OK, physically the crushee is within my standards for feminine beauty. Perfect enough for me. Intellectually she is within those standards too. She's smart. She's well read. So am I. ( Half Genius/Half Retard) Tempramentally(sic) we're right on as well. A bit cynical. A bit sarcastic, whimsical, silly, very irreverent, but warm and sweet and generous at heart. A fundamentally decent person. That's not perfection is it? Well, it is close enough for me. Close enough that it is worthwhile for me to sing her praises here. Close enough that if we do end up together I'll adore her. Not like a puppy dog mind you, more like a knight that adores his lady . . Sorry. Silly metaphor I guess. I don't know how to explain it. How you can love people completely and still be mindful of thier limitations? How you can not just accept but embrace these limitations as part and parcial of the one you care about? How you can adore someone out of strength, not out of weakness?

So we'll have to go through with the affair apparantly to allieviate these doubts she has in me. In us. My 'predicting the future' mode has been working over time of late. I'm seeing visions again. Visions of sugarplums. The terrible thing about our destinies is that the further you look out , the further into the future you can thrust youself, the more potential for tragedy exists. We are all on the edge, on the very edge, of tragedy. All of our lives are filled with terrible potential. I suppose this at root is why human existance is such a constant struggle. We all see the tragedy up ahead, all the time, consciously or unconsciously, we all strive to avoid this tragedy. Little wonder human existence is nasty brutish and short ( according to Malthus) Little wonder. That's what bothers me so much about charletons, sooth sayers and psychics. They act is if the future they see is valid one. They talk about futures in isolation, but the future is a dialectic. It changes. it has no meaning without a actor. Without the person in the picture. And that person is an agent, active, changing things all the time, introducing uncertainty, closing and opening doors at a frantic pace. Anyone who ever predicts your future, reads your palm, or anything like that who doesn't acknowledge the exisitance of uncertainity. Of Free will. Is a fraud. walk Away. Walk away. Anyone who says they see the future(s) and doesn't see the pain, doesn't get scared, doesn't seem affected by it. Walk away. That person is either a charleton or a brick, not the person you want predicting your future.

So in order to close some doors to tragedy and open some towards lasting happiness I'm going to havve to have an affair with my crushee. I'm going to have to convince her of my realness. Of my steadiness, of my physical prowess, perhaps. Whatever. These are tests I'll pass with flying colors. She thinks some kind of physical release is going to yield an emotional release. She is wrong. It will only accelerate this process. She'll lose control, not gain it. She'll fall deeply in love with me and no longer be able to deny it. She'll have to face it. She knows it too. That's why she is leaning in this direction. She wants to cross the rubicon. She wants us to do the thing we cannot take back or deny. This will make it real for her. To commit. She knows that we'll be compatible. She knows that I'll be dependable, solid, supportive and loving. she just wants to get there, to that point. She wants to touch me, to prove to herself that I'm real. This I can do. It will not be the clean and relatively noble way I'd hoped to begin this phase of our relationship , but it will do. The end justifies the means.

So, we'll take it sort of slowly. I held her hand briefly today ( she said maybe it will make us less nervous if we start holding hands or something, strange that one minute she says that we should avaoid each other like the plague and the next she says it will be easier if we start holidng hands.) I'm going to start touching her shoulders, taking hold of her arm to guide her through doors. When the time and place is right, relaxed, private, not pressed for time. I'm going to kiss her. I've already decided, I'm not uncertain anymore. I'm going to do it. To pursue the physical part of this relationship, to make the important part our spiritual and emotional bonding wrok. To make it real for her. It's not purient. it's not manipulation. It's an awareness that the human condition exists in the realm of the senses. I'm going to bring this world of the senses to her.

It will be the perfect kiss. It will be slow. tentative at first probably, but it will be long and will build in intensity. Her knees will buckle. She'll realize her mistake too late. too late. It will end with the both of us flushed, breathless and convinced. It will be our crossing of the rubicon. After the kiss the only thing left to work out will be the details, the when/where/what of our new relationship. She'll be mine and I'll be hers. Oh there will be trouble and strife after, to be sure. But not the uncertainty. The kiss will decide that much. That we should be a couple. That we may fall in love. That this may be the greatest thing ever for both of us. In my end is my beginning.

She was just glowing today. Talking nonsense. Taking as if we should not do this thing, but bringing it up persisting, exploring. She said I awoke feelings in her that she'd long suppressed. That she thinks of me more than she thinks of anything. I know the feeling. But she still has this uncertainty. An uncertainty that I'll sweep away, with a kiss, with my sanity, with my decency and strength. She'll be amazed at who I really am. How powerful I really am. How good and safe and right she'll feel in my arms. She'll be amazed.

I don't mind proving myself. I'm up for any fair test of my strength, my intellect, my basic decency. I'll succeed. I already have countless times. I see the future. I see us warm and safe and together. I see happily ever after.

SO I'M ON THIS WEIRD MANIC DEPRESSIVE CYCLE. (I actually feel as if I'm riding a bicycle. A manic depressive bicycle. Look at me. No hands. wheeeeee!) I always thought there were days and days between the change from manic to depressive but with me the cycles seem to last about a 12 hours. I woke up this AM happy and singing, happily sang (paul westerberg, Dice Behind your shades, . . "your sick to death of the latest rage, every-one is tw-ice your age, roll the di-ice be-hind your shades.")all the way to work. spilled coffee on my freshly ironed white shirt ( i did a really fine ironing job on that shirt too) before I got a block from the house, went back singing, ironed a new shirt ( not such a great job on this one) headed back to work still singing and finally arrived here happy as a lark.

All this would be fine and dandy except I spent last night wanting to die and If I think about a bit ( though it's hard to concentrate on gloomy thoughts right now) all those reasons to want to die ( not to actually do anything about it, mind you. This blog might be self-centered and whiny , but it is NOT an extended suicide note of any kind, I'm passed that, my judgement is entirely too fallible to leave such life and death decisions up to me, I'm letting fate decide. If this blog stops suddenly, no matter what the tone of the last post, trust that I've simply tired of posting here., moved along to some other distraction. I'll be perfectly OK.) are still valid.

I feel a bit foolish being unabashedly giddy and chipper, a bit like I should be paying attention to something and I'm not ( denial feels good baby!) but for now let's just pretend that this is my new leaf. I'm actually a quite happy and upbeat kind of guy. People love me. Animals loves me. Even plants love me. Invite me over to your house to meet your mean aunt Rose; she'll love me too. I'm handsome today too. I mean really handsome. Maybe I should take my picture to show you folks how damned good looking I got over night. I really don't know how it happened. When I went to bed last night I was a disgusting slug, a wretch, but now I'm a hottie. I still look like me, but that's a good thing. Man, I'm a real looker . . . look at me! Whee!

Maybe I'll post again later in the day. This will be fun. I wish I had brought some hard candy to give to people today or maybe smiley faced stickers. I wonder want the profs would do if I started putting smiley faced stickers on stuff? hehehe

THE CRUSH CONTINUES but I'm tired of talking about it and thinking about it and deciding and not deciding about it. I'm ready once again, folks, to move passed this stage of my life. I get ready to move passed stages in my life pretty regularly actually. I don't ever seem to do too much about it though. I'm tired of turning over new leaves only ( had to see this coming) to find the same old slug underneath.

Anyway. The crushee and I ( I must not really be tired of it) walked around campus yeserday evening for a bit. It was nice and chatty and fun. we didn't talk about anything. That was good. We've talked on the phone a couple of times today about notihng much and that was good too. We've laughed a bit; I can tell it's really going to happen. It's really going to happen. All I have to do is coast on in from here I think. She calls me a bunch. She's interested in me, fascinated even. She is flattered and excited and scared. And so am I.

Except for the girlfriend. This is going to kill her. It already is. She thinks she's having a nervous breakdown but doesn't know why. I think she might be having a breakdown too, only I know why. She knows of course that I've been deeply and profoundly unhappy for months now. Part of whats going on with her is coming from me. Seeing her sad and distrught now, the most obvious symptoms of her breakdown, knowing how bad it could get later, knowing that happily-ever-after is at stake, knowing that no matter what some one is going to get hurt now (we're all going to get hurt) is killing me.

I've always felt 'girlfriend' to be a completely inadequate word for my relationship with my . . . girlfriend. You have girlfriends in high school. While your still at least marginally girls and boys, beyond that the word doesn't fit. I tried to call her my partner for a while but that sort of backfired. I was on the phone one day doing some business for her and kept referring to her as my partner to the nice lady on the other end of the phone, who, when it became her turn to speak ( and picking up oddly on the partner reference) started to refer to my girlfriend as "he." (in case you haven't been paying attention my GF is a woman) 'Lady friend' sounds too much like 'lover' which always sounds like 'fuck buddy' and is nobody's business besides unless you are in the mood to talk about it.

The thing is we've put this household together, this future, this happilly ever after. We bought couches and refridgerators to go with it. Things meant to last. We bought washers and a TV ( my old dryer was still OK) What will happen to all of that. How will I explain the turn I want to take. How can I ever justify it? How can I ever make it so I'm not the bad guy?

That's part of it. Not wanting to be the bad guy. Not wanting to hurt her. Not wanting to upset the apple cart. But also, and this is so obvious and apparent when I'm near my girlfriend, is that I don't want to lose her. I still love her. I still find her attractive and appealing. She's funny, smart and, warm. And yet I still want to be with my crushee. all of this is true and I'm willing ( if not able) to cast this sure sweet thing away on a chance . . probably not a good chance either . . of another happily ever after.

Part of it may still be my little teen age problem of not being a viable breeder until my early twenties despite the fact that I'd been ready willing and able to breed since I was like 10. I'd been ready all that time. Imagine ten years without sex. That's bound to scar anyone. So this long gap between desire and fullfillment still plaguess me. What if I never have sex with a new person again? I haven't had sex with enough different people yet. Not to make up for those ten years anyway.

Part of it is fear. Falling in love is scarey, everytime. you feel that sick dropping feeling, like you're about to go over the big hill in a rollercoaster. Only after you've already started to love this person mind you, only after it's just a little bit too late, after you're already on, strapped in and excited and giggling at the propect of what lies ahead. The feeling comes; the dread , the queasiness, the fear of falling, not in love,of course, what your afraid of falling into is not quite love ( it will already be too late for that, a little bit too late), you are afriad, both rationaly and irrationally, that the place you have allowed yourself to drop into won't be love at all, but a pit That, like in that trust game, where you fall forward with your eyes closed trusting ( hence the name) that your partner will catch you. This feeling is a sneaking suspiscion of what will happen if they don't catch you, along with the realization that you ( the fool, the victim) have already just let yourself fall without thought. I have that queasy, painful, its-too-late feeling.

Or is this all just an excuse for me to have another sexual exploit? I dressed it up. Cloud the issue with smoke and mirrors like 'torn between lovers.' It's all so stupid, so embarrasing, so cliche, my cheating heart, good hearted women in love with a good timing man. Its all beneath me, or so I thought.

At bottom. I'm just selfish to the point of evil. You think about good and evil as relatively abstract concepts. probably don't think you ever run into it on a daily basis at least not in any kind of pure good and evil kind of way. Right? Wrong. I'm preparing to do evil, to be evil, to turn over an ugly new leaf. I'm evil already I guess because all of this, my thoughts and deeds come as little suprise to me. Once I commited to the crush, once I sort of embraced it, I became an agent of evil. Because I knew it was wrong, every step, I knew it was wrong. I denied. I lied. but I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. I bet, I'll continue to do it anyway too. It's easy from here. All I have to do is coast. just close my eyes and fall. I have momentum now. I pushed and pushed and pushed my crushee to the top of the hill and now I can relax and fall. She'll do the rest now. She's called me twice since I started composing this. She's lost. She's falling. she's not thinking, she's doing now. It's a little bit too late.

This is a strange new thing. A new thought. my work, the really hard stuff, is done already. My crushee is falling in love with me. All i have to do really is be nice pleasant and fun and she will love me.

The veil is falling from my eyes again. I'm turning over a new leaf. Left to themselves events will unfold this way. We will decide, my crushee and I , not to act on our affections. this is a prudent thing to do we think, but we will continue to see each other, continue the endless flirtation, the back and forth, the touching of hands, the nudges, the warm open looks. All these will continue until their inevitable conclusion. It will be wonderful and terrible. We will fall in love. There will be separation trauma and strife. She'll try breifly and sincerely, to pull away, but here is where she gets that sick dropsy feeling, it will be too late, we'll be starting down the hill. We will try breifly to hold our old lives together, but they will crumble and fragment, dissipate. By suprise, completely by suprise, everything about my life will be different. scary. sad. alone. in love. happy. safe. dead ( or wishing I were) in school, teaching, drinking, not drinking, healthy, sick, holding it all together or falling apart. The vision ends in discord, fear, self loathing, and strange unadmirable hope.

So my question is this, gentle readers. do you beleive any of it? Any of my B.S? am I evil? Am I typical stupid pedestrian deserving of scorn and disgust. Is this beautiful? A love story even? True love conquers all in the face of adversity. can you see it? Can you see it gentle readers. There, there, just beyond the first big drop. Isn't that happily ever after? Can i get there from here? Do I deserve it, after all?

OK, SO WE ( MY CRUSHEE AND I) HAD OUR APPOINTMENT YESTERDAY, (see below) It didn't go exactly as planned but at least my short term goals ( make me feel better, see if my crushee has reneged) were accomplished. On the make me feel better front, even though I wasn't really able to string together any kind of coherent speech or pitch to the crushee, the talking we do served to confirm her attraction to me, that's a good thing, and it made it obvious she hasn't reneged. However she is definitely expessing conflicting emotions ( no suprise here, she be crazy if she didn't). On the one hand, she says she wishes she had never expressed any interest in me ( denial). On the other other hand (watch my hands folks. At no times willl my fingers leave my hands) she told me that she knew I wanted to kiss her ( this is so adolescent) and that she'd even talked to her friend about it who said to 'go ahead and kiss him.' The friend's theory being that if we kissed and there were no chemistry we could stop worrying about it. The friend however didn't seem to consider the more real possibility that the chemistry was obviously there already and that any kind of mingling of saliva or breath would only serve to increase the chemistry ten fold. ( another thing that didn't factor into the friends's kiss-him-and-get-it-over with theory is that I am known far and wide as an excellent kisser, and hugger, cuddler, and thus any kind of kiss from me could not help but be a sucess, a pleasant thing, sometihng to make her knees buckle even. ) At bottom, all this talk about kissing was really an invitation ( albeit half unwitting and sort of left handed) to actually do the deed. So she sat in my truck, hemming and hawing, for half an hour ( preparing to get out the whole time) essentially waiting for me to lay one on her, which I wouldn't do despite a buring desire to. She touched my hands several times and actually grabbed one while I was gesturing wildly. Each time she did this she acted ( maybe not acted) like she didn't really mean to, want to, and withdrew her hands quickly.

What does this all mean to me?

One. She likes me, she really, really likes me. ( are you starting to like me too gentle reader or do you find my ranting( and by extension my person) to be amoral and silly, perhaps even gross?) I am in some sort of control. I can from now on just be bluntly honest about my crush on her and at least for the time being count on this honesty making her all squirmy inside. This is control for me. I can talk to her freely about her many charms and she can do nothing but drink it all in , all the while becoming increasingly enamored of me.

Two. She wants something to happen. She won't admit it becuase of the complicated nature of our situation, but she wants something to happen. Were I to get her to some private place, something would happen. I should try to avoid this something happening I guess, though I know after a certain set of somethings happening I will be fully in charge of the situation ( mess that it is). So in the interest of being in control, purely for my own personal power, I should pursue this, right? Something has to happen.

Moving right along. Faithful readers of this blog may have noted a week long abscence from this space. That is because I had been on vacation and have just returned this passed weekend. sorry I didn't warn you. It just points to the wonderfully fragmentary nature of this blog. I can tell you what I choose, withhold what I choose. what you the readers get from me is a series of snapshots of what is going on with me onthis day or that. Not even good snapshots either becuase obviously in any given day I have a whole range of things going on. I choose what you the readers get to see. That's power, baby!

To illustrate the point I neglected to tell you folks that yesterday, prior to posting to this blog I went to see my therapist ( I've only seen her twice, I get four times for free via my EAP, so it is kind of presumptious of me to call her 'my' therapist). It was a pretty uninspired meeting. I felt like I was on ome kind of debate team , detteachedly and indifferently trying to keep her ( on the opposite team) from coming up with any valid solutions for my unhappiness. Mostly this was becuase I don't see any real good solutions. Also What I want ( happily ever after with my crushee ) is miles apart from where I am right now ( more or less happly ever after with my girlfriend). Any rational approach to this problem leads to two facts.

First fact: there will be a wide gulf of unhappiness and chaos between my two happily ever afters.

Second Fact: the bird in the hand thing. My girlfriend is more or less a certain commodity. She loves me, I love her. We walk hand in hand into the sunset. My crushee seems to be a very uncertain commodity. She claims to be 'ambivilent' ( her word, among webster's definitions for the word: simultaneously being attracted and repulsed by something, Ouch!, you think she knows that? think she meant that?) about her feelings toward me. We don't really know each other. We have these obstacles between us ( we work together, We both of partners or sorts). However, I have this feeling, this sneaky little feeling, that all it would take from me is one good determined shove and she will fall, topple like a house of cards, into love with me. Once that happens, she become a certain commodity doesn't she?

Anyway, I obviously had nothing good to say to my therapist as all this strategizing is somewhat outside her area of responsibiliy. I wouldn't respect her much if she helped me plan to seduce my crushee while keeping my GF in the dark you know. And so I frittered away an hour of both of our times doing the abstract lets debate about the nature of human happiness and the human condition thing. So sad. I'm OK, you're OK.

So anyway, gentle readers, it is time for my daily question to you.
If you were me would you
a) stick to my no cheating guns and let thew whole situation drift and remian fluid
b) persue the whole kissing thing with my crushee thus satisfying my purient desires and establishing what is likely to be a much higher degree of power and control in the situation
c) confess all of this to my GF, see her out the door, then pursue the kiss thing. ( Hey, Crushee, lets go over to my house and watch CNN, wink, wink, wink. . .hehehe)
d) jump off a bridge because it turns out that I'm a bad bad person who lacks faith and doesn't know how to love.

Please feel free to suggest alternative plans and let me know your gender ( as this is likely to influence your veiw of any man/woman relationship). Not to say I that gender will make your input any more or less valuable, just the opposite if I think I know where you're coming from I can better judge your response.

Well, I gotta go now. I have a lunch date with a prof. whose career I have been advancing through my highly literate and effective editing. I think he may give me a crown and scepter for being such a big ( and friendly and cordial) help to him in recent months

SO HERE IT IS. I'm sliding further into the cheating realm. Uh oh. I said I wouldn't do that. I promised myself even. The thing is I've made an 'appointment' to talk to my crushee after work today. To sort of clear the air, you understand. To make it perfectly crystal clear that we can and will ( oh we will) work together in a warm and productive atmosphere despite the fact that we have this not-so-secret crush on each other. I've absolutely no intention of touching her kneee or her hand during this appoinmtment. Nor will I smell her hair or gaze dreamily into her dark eyes. Not gonna do it. I won't round any any bases or any participate in any other intimate activity that can be reduced to a sports metaphor (score!). not gonna happen.

She's not helping either. Didn't you expect her to resist more? Didn't you expect that this wouldn't work out --that I was just some perverted old man? Didn't you think I'd disgust her? If I really am a disgusting dirty old man, and she knows it, she certainly has a funny way of showing it. She actualy said, after I jested ( oh, I'm a big jester alright, I'm a kidder. Ask anybody) that I should drop by her house to help her write a paper ( grad school, second masters, she is so my type) that she was afraid we'd just end up making out on the couch. Whatever would make her say something like that? What ever madew her think that I'd like to make out on the couch with her. That I'd like to slip her shirt off? That I would want to rub my hands over her belly and beyond? where does she get these ideas? She is not playing it cool.

So we are meeting at a neutral public place that is niether school or work ( a hotel? does a hotel qualify? Is a hotel neutral ground? Can we find one with a couch . . for comfort, of course; I'm only interested in her comfort) to hash out the situation we find ourselves in and come up with a plan so that we can collaborate here at work ( thus increasing our productivity and political power by magnitudes) and still be good platonic friends ( who happen grope each other at odd moments)

As you might guess I'm a bit conflicted over this meeting. On the one hand this is the perfect opportunity for me to seal the deal on our budding intimate relationship. (she is weak and vulnerable to me now, she is defenseless against my charms , Dude, I'm her freaking kryptonite!) on the other hand, despite what I might tell you in my asides, gentle reader, I'm not so sure I want to set up this illicite relationship with her. Somebody ( most likely me) is going to get hurt. It's wrong to be in one monogomous relationship and then drift towrds another. That's just wrong (I know that would be pologamy , shut up. The last thing I need from you is a vocab lesson right now).

If we start a relationship on the sly, if we start out as thieves in the night, it will take a train wreck to get us out in the light of day. And I've watched enough made for TV mini series' to know that these things always come to light. We will be a freaking cliche -- an anecdote to tell about how relationships cause pain and destruction. I can see the tawdry drama playing out now before my eyes, not like a dream but as if you and I, gentle reader, were sitting together in a cozy movie theater and watching as one, then the other of our increasingly less significant others catch on to the new arrangement my crushee and I have. It will be a train wreck.

So why?, you ask, why did I set up this meeting? Becuase she suggested it and I'm following through (Look what excellent follow through I have --a good trait in a sex buddy, right?). Really I just want to talk with her about our situation some more and try to make everything alright for her. I just want to do the right thing --to be able to hang out casually( ever so casually. Don't you see us being casual? Aren't we the casual ones?) at work. We can talk to each other without turing red. We can not feel like big love struck dorks ( illicit, adulterous, love struck dorks at that) all the time. and we can return to our regularly schedule program of being warm and friendly towards each other. Collegial, don't you know, Chummy, can't you see?

So thats my mission. I've got about ten minutes to gear up. To jot down a bit of witty reparte perhaps? Nothing too formal just a few quick notes to get her giggling ( I love it, in a very platonic way, when she giggles. Her giggling fills me with deep and powerful admiration for her . . . sense of humor) No, no. I think I'll just wing it. Say whatever (will get her to kiss me deeply and passionately) comes to my mind. Keep it light. Light touch. Casual. That's the ticket. I'll simply , lightly and casually put my hand up her skirt in a friendly warm and collegial way as a polite gesture of our warm and abiding friendship . . .

Oh God, I'm doomed. I'm on the rollercoaster to hell. Maybe I'll get hit by a truck ( one of those ones with G.O.D. written one the side. (Your basic text book karmic vengence, that) Man, that would be so funny. I hope my head explodes like a pumpkin when it hits the pavement)

Dear Readers, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Keep those cards and letters coming.

Seriously use my comment feature to vent your frustations at the cruel cruel world , or give me advice. I need advice. Maybe that's what this blog should be named. 'I need advice' The question is, will you give it freely now that I've asked?

So I have reader. At least two of them or it's one person who commented twice using two different names. or it could be two people on the same computer who happened to comment twice together.

Here is where I say

Anyway. I figured today I'd answer reader mail in honor of actually having some. I'll make sort of a habit out of this until I get bogged down by the bijillion of comments I'll likely get now the you gentle readers understand that not only do I listen but I respond and, most importantly, I care.

Anyway, one commenter writes about the place below where I claim that I can usually make someone who likes me love me. The commenter laments that he is in a situation where he wants this girl who likes him to love him and he wants me to tell him what to do to change the situation to a love fest of some kind. Unfortunately I'm not going to be much help to you and here's why: First, I lied. I don't really have the power at all. It only seems that way to me because I only try it with 'sure things.' The only girls I've ever tried anything like that with have really been girls who were already on thier way to loving me and I just sort of drifted along with it because it is nice to be loved. Its a good feeling. I want people, girls especially, to love me. See, I only try my made amore skillz on chicks who are making it painfully obvious that they dig me. Then, when they jump at the chance to go out for a malt, I think I'm some kind of Casinova, dig?

I think I'm only atttracted to the type of passive agressive girl who would let that happen to her in the first place. Much like lions ( or some other big game cat that hunts its really not important whether we're talking about lions or tigers or cheetah or whatever. I mean, I sure its important to the cheetah, like it would suck for them to be called a lion, but for the point of the metaphor I'm about to make it really doesn't matter what kind of animal we're talking about just so long as we all understand there are this group of predatory hunters going after this group of herders that for the purposes of this thought experiment will play the role of prey)

Anyway. Maybe I'm like some kind of lion or whatever and when I'm sizing up which antelope or whatever to eat I always look for the slow ones, the ones who don't look like they can run very far or very fast. Not that they won't be tasty but not very quick , you dig? Maybe I do this without even thinknig about it. Not quite subconsciously ( I mean here i am talking about it like I know what I'm talking about) My point is I don't really think I can make any women who likes me love me, I think I only ever tried it with women who I could already guessed would love me. Maybe it really is a trick of visualizing. So there's my advice. Visualize being with her ( don't fantasize about it , you little perv! That's grounded in the unreal) We want you to visualize being with her.

The second reason I won't be able to help our friend make his friend love him is that my method will only work for me or others like me who share my particular bleand of abilities and disabilites. It helps if your warm and funny in a self deprecating sort of way. Chicks dig that. My advice to you is to not pressure your friend. Not act all nervous and jerky. What you should do is wait for a moment when she is drunk or emotionally vulnerable and then sort of whip your pecker out . . .

Wait. Don't do that. that's probably bad advice. Really just try and test the waters and see what happens but don't make yourself miserable. If you've read my posts at all you'll see that it is perfectly likely that some other girl who is not your friend will come along soon enough and make you so unhappy you'll forget all about pining for the first friend. It will make that bit of misery look like a walk in the park. Trust me.

My other reader didn't have a question. He or she actually had some advice and that advice was 'stick with your girlfriend.' Good, solid advice that. You can tell where they're coming from. 'Stick,' a good word. yup. Except the two other people I've talked to about it one being a past ex girlfriend and the other being amy therapist send dump her. Eek gotta go, she's home. It wouldn't do for her to come read this over my shoulder would it? TTYL

The crush continued

Ok. So the crushee and I went out to lunch yesterday. I initiated the idea of lunch and she followed along. The thing is we have both noticed how when we spend time together at work very little work gets done so we both sort of backed of, eft each other alone so we could sort of preservee our jobs and our dignity. I presented lunch as a way to hang out and not feel guilty about goofing off. It worked like a charm sort of, except we spend the rest of the afternoon sort of hanging out. Oh, we kept the lunch short and cordial and only talked about things of little consequence but afterwards she called me up and wanted to take a walk around campus, so off we went. Here of course is where the trouble starts. We wound up talking about our relationships ( mine with my GF and Hers with her . . whatever you want to call him) I tried to keep it sort of non specific and not to reveal my burning crush for but apparently my disguise slipped. Not apparently I all but outed myself to her and she picked up on it. Also I once again proved how bad I am at what it is that I think I'm doing presently. During the course of our conversation I said sometihng like "I think my relationship with my GF is in trouble because over the past few months I've started being attracted to other people and I hadn't been before and I didn't know why" This is of course a lie in the following way. I'm not attracted to other people. There are only two women in the world that I'm interested in ( I mean I do see all sorts of women as attractive, but I'm not attracted to them if you catch the difference) one of them is my GF and the other, of course, is the crushee.

Shortly after we got back from the walk she sent me an email askig if she was one of the 'people' I found myself attracted to. The message was worded insuch a way that I assumed she'd rather not be one of those people. So I didn't respond naturally. So she sends another email asking me if I recieved the first one. Realizing that my plan of hiding my head in the sand wasn't going to work I called her to confess. A phone call is better fro me because I get feed back and can cater my message based upon that feedback. To make this probably boring post a bit shorter I won't recont all the back and forth of this conversation. Suffice it to say she admitted to having a crush on me as well and weve decided sort of to let that sink in and see what happens.

This elated me. I went from being some dirty pathetic worm sniffing after a prime morsel to being a man who is attracted to a women who is attracted right back. No shame in that is there? I continued to be happy and elated planning all the ways that I would get my crushee to actually fall in love with me ( most of my plans center around hanging out and teasing her a lot -- Hey it works. It's a proven winner in the courtship ritual feild. I can almost always bed down any women who thinks I'm funny) until I go home and The girlfriend was there happy and even a bit elated to see me. so now I go from fantasizing about my crushee to visualizing breaking up with my GF. This will not go well. i don't really want to do it eirthrr. We've been together for along time. We love each other I think. I have all the faith in the world that all things being equal she'll stick with me until the end. so what in the hell am I doing? Today, at least I don't have the weird depression anymore. I still feel much stronger knowing that a few offices away my crushee is thinking kind thoughts about me. It sucks that we had to meet now and not six years ago. Oh well.

So what should happen? Should I break up with my GF right away to make myself avaialbe to the crushee? This would certainly strentghen my position there. I could definitely get soem kind of relationship going. probably she'd fall in love with me. I'm pretty good at making girls who like me love me. Anything that happens now is going to involve misery. No doubt about it. somebody or several somebodies are going to get hurt and it's likely that one of those somebodies is going to be me.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth it, after all ,after all
the teas and cakes and ices? will I have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
though I wept and fasted, wept and prayed and saw my ass
( grown slighlty large) brought in upon a platter.
I'm no prophet . . . .

Damn! I'm caught in freaking Prufrock! why didn't anyone warn me? Damn! Where where you when I needed you?

So, the only thing that really sucks about this blog thing, aside from the style, quality and tone of the writing is that I’m pretty freaking convinced that no one but me ever reads it. It would be different if I post once in a blue moon and only post a couple of sentences -- went to mall, bought cute shoes, ate ham sandwich --, but I have posted with some degree of regularity for a couple of weeks and I don't think anyone has seen it. To make matters much worse, some of the stuff I've posted (while depressing in the extreme to me) should elicit at least a little chuckle out of someone (in the at least I’m not that bozo sort of way.) You would think I would get at least one ‘u r a douchbag’ type comment but I get nothing, nada, zip, zero. I remain convinced that my two beady eyes are the only ones that ever rest on this blog. I'm relatively convinced that this whole blogger thing is a scam -- that there are like two nerdy college kids spending all night updating the recently updated blogs,

And another thing the blogs of interest really haven’t been interesting lately. What gives? It's all part of the scam perpetrated by the illuminati aimed at getting me to confess all of this lame crap and then to turn it against me at the worst possible moment. Even now dark agents are gathering outside my office door (right near the water fountain, the bastards) preparing to pounce on my as I stumble my way to the bathroom or the coffee machine or whatever . . .

This is so lame.

so I went to the therapist yesterday and, get this, I sat in her office talking for four hours. I thought you only got an hour. It was quite a long while probably at least two hours before I realized how long I'd been there. I never thought of myself as an egotist but i must tell you I tell I talked about myself. my problems, my virtues and my vices four hours without ever once asking the therapist about her. I hardly took a breath.

How weird is that? Ok, I know that therapy is not the place for a balanced exchange of views, opinions and utterances, but still its weird to have a conversation that long that is all about you. I actually feel better today as a result of just venting for that long. Nothing, I mean nothing got solved. I'm still in the throws of the crush, but it doesn't hurt as much now that I could tell some neutral disinterested, not to mention captive third party all about it from my perspective without ever worrying about the consequences for such a confession or , perhaps more importantly, how the audience was receiving it. I really don't care if she thinks I'm a slob and a creep. It's all about me. me. me me me.

The long talk also made me realize my condundrum. Really, if my crush likes me I have to break my girlfriend's heart in order to be with her. The only way I can find out is to ask her directly. If I ask her directly I reveal the terribly inappropriates feelings ( not that they aren't pretty damned obvious but there is a big diffference btween hinting and confessing) If she rejects me once I have revealed my inappropraite feelings I will likely have alienated her, lost her as a friend, and upset( if not destroyed) the collegial atmospherewe have now. If I don't tell her anbd my feeling continue then I'll remian in greater and lesser degrees of misery forever, until eternit, or until I get balls enough to dive under a bus. This is like one of those sick algebra problems that have no rational solution and that as you work thorugh it you discovery an infinite number of significant variaable. always moving forward into a new set of unknowns.

all of this assumes of course that my happiness is paramount. But what about my girlfriend's happiness? how much is that worth to me? what about my crushes happiness? Does that count or is it alls fair in love and war? What about my therapist? Don't her opinions count. Shouldn't I make her feel as if she has helpied me thus vetting her value as a healer?

This is all so stupid. I really am retarded after all.

So today I've come to the realization ( which is so blindingly obvious to everyone in the universe but me and has been seen time immorial) that heartache such as I have been experienceing recently ( see below) am experiencing presently even as I mistype these words actually aches. yup, i'm having chest pains associated with my misery. But on the upside I've found a bit of a respite in reading and listening to music. It seems if I can just concentrate on a good book or, if i happen to be working, can listen to music and work ( thus filling my mind with distractions) I don't feel like crap for that time that i'm otherwise occupied. The problem of course is that a best I can occupy myself thusly for 2 or 3 hours a day, so that leaves roughly 14 waking hours for me to twist on a spit. Writing this blog also helps as might be evidenced in my increased posting.

I'm going to see an EAP paid for therapist on Monday. I get to go four times a year and talk about anything I want. This will be ther first time I've ever tapped into this particular health benefit. I think i might compile a list of talking points so that I can be sure to touch on all my little worries. I'd hate to have to wait another three months for a free shoulder to cry on if I forget to bring something up.

Also, in the realm of thing that help me not wallow in my own private misery talking on the phone can help at times. My thing is I have to be careful not to use this to much as the few telephone friends I have will get suspicious If I call them more then once in a blue moon. I don't want to come off as pathetic and needy to anynoe but you, faithful reader, after all. after all . . .

So the crush continues. No real progress, no real back-sliding just steady low level pain and depression. I spent most of last weekend in bed trying to sleep it all away. The GF loved that as you might imagine. I can't really tell her why I'm feeling so sad for obvious reasons. Part of the big problem is really that I do love her as I always have. This whole thing would be a lot easier for me if I were in an unhappy relationship and along comes the hapless object/subject of my desire, but that's not the case. I am in general truly happy with my GF or at least I thought I was.

Do you think the mere fact that I'm capable of having a long and extended crush on another woman is evidence of my dissatisfaction with my current GF? That seems logical, right. if love is monogamous -- I'm not so certain it is though. Not that I'm contemplating a trip to Utah or anything, but this incident gives me an occasion to ponder what the hell I think about one on one relationships. Quick Answer: I think they're great. I think I'm in the wrong one and I think I'm the world's most selfish, cruel, immature and shortsighted ass ever in the history of men behaving badly. At least, though I haven't done anything about it. At least I haven't been treating either of my 'loves' badly. I haven't been mean to my GF, although she has noticed my distraction and my depression obviously. I feel like I'm cheating on my crushee most of the time. (the world is turned upside down)This can not be healthy At least I haven't imposed myself awkwardly on my crushee (well maybe I did a bit in the beginning but these last few weeks I've made a conscious, not to mention painful effort to avoid non work related contact with her. She for her part is doing the same thing. )

So, is my crushee avoiding me because I creep her out and she doesn't feel comfortable around me? (oh God I’m a dirty old man to be avoided at all costs) Is it because she feels things for me too but realizes our situation is hopeless? (Oh God, Juliet, pass that vial of poison) Is it because we get too caught up with each other here at work and all productive endeavors take a sideline to us giggling, rubbing elbows, and touching hands ever so accidentally? (This is the one I want it to be. It's still painful, but at least there is the prospect of someone else besides me being in pain and if I quite my current job to be a park ranger or a parking lot attendant, my crushee and I could conceivable ride off into the sunset together at some point.

So what do I really want? I want not to hurt about this thing anymore. I want to resume a normal emotional life. I don't want to cheat on anyone. I don't want to break anyone’s heart. I don't want my heart broken. I don’t want to embarrass myself. I want long-term happiness. I don't want to be a pig, an ogre, or a cad. I don't want to make the crushee uncomfortable here at work (she deserves a pleasant safe and friendly work environment, despite my emotional problems I have no right or desire to screw that up for her) I don't want to be uncomfortable at work ( I didn't look for this, ask for it, I haven't been sniffing around like a blood hound for potential mates, I was done with that. This is simply not my fault)


Short of all of that, I want it to stop. Just stop. I'd rather not be anywhere with anyone. I'd rather be in a monastery or a coma or the land-that-time-freaking-forgot. I spend all day at work not wanting to be there, all night at home not wanting to be there. I never want to be anywhere I am at the moment. I'm a freaking basket case and nobody but you ( my vast and growing readership) and I know the extent of it and the reasons behind it. I probably need to break up with my GF for reasons yet to be thought up, separate myself completely from my crushee and concentrate on being a retard (see previous posts) for a while. Maybe I’ll get another cat. Maybe I'll take up a hobby like mainlining heroin. I hear heroin addiction is pretty engaging, takes up a lot of time, money, and energy and that it is difficult to do anything other than be addicted to heroin when one is riding the horse. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'd rather be a heroin addict then what I am right now. It would be a subjective step up for me. I'd be moving in the right direction, getting my life in order, doing things for me . . .

hehehehe. Ouch! It hurts to laugh.

Just a quick update here to let my vast and ever growing readership know that the crush continues unabated. I had hoped that the passage of time would make it go away but not so. Nothing whatsoever has changed except my conviction that my crusheee likes me back. I'm prety usre i make her uncomfortable(and rightly so given my little problem). Think I'll start hunting for high places to jump from.

On another brighter note I've discovered that I'm slightly retarded. Faithful readers of this blog may remember that some time ago I discovered that I was a near, near, near, almost genius. well, in addition to that show stopper it turns out that I have a wee bit of a mental deficit that seems to mainfiest itself mainly in a funny look around my eyes and an inabilitity to find about five percent of the mechanical errors in any given piece of text.

How did I arrive at this revelation? Well, I went to the optomitrist of course. Not your normal eye doctor, this guy specializes in adults and children with learning disabilities. I was his patient when I was a kid. He taught mer how not to fall off my bicycle and gave me the perceptual-cognitive tools I needed to be able to learn to read. That was all well and good when I was five or six, but then, like frankenstein, he abandoned me for like 30 years. Now I'm looking to futher my education either through another masters or the big PHd program in the sky, but i'm worried that my little inadaquacies will make my academic labours more laborous then they need be. so I go to see him. He's not covered by insurance so I fork over $400 bucks for him to tell me . . wait for it. I'm a bit retarded. Oh I'll be able to lead a normal life, but I should'nt breed, operate heavy equipment, or dress myself until I've had extensive therapy ( this blog notwithstanding) I truly am I man of a million disguises Half genius, a bit retarded, emotional basket case, who wouldn't love to have me around? I'm the ideal person to feel superior to. I wonder if I can market that

recorded from memory:

Me: Give it to me straight, Doc
Doctor: well you have a number of cognitive and perceptual deficits but they all boil down to one thing . . .
Me: yes?
Doctor: Well, you're a bit of a retard actually.
Me: I'm retarded? oh come on?!?
Doctor: No really, look in the mirror. Without getting to technical with you, you can tell by the funny look around your eyes. Haven't you ever noticed that people are a little scared of you?
Me: I thought it was me being stand offish and shy.
Doctor: Nope. You're a retard. I find it amazing you can actually tie your shoes. you do tie 'em yourself don't you . . . .