The Extremes
Thursday, May 31, 2007
I will admit that sometimes I have a tendency to live my life in major extremes. I can be terribly motivated or not so much, satiated with joy or crushed by despondency, excitedly optimistic or absurdly pessimistic.
I think we can all be a little like what I described. Of course not in a mentally unstable way – of course, but in a way that can be entertaining. For example – One day I am convinced that I will never date another woman again, I will never speak to the Pearl or that I will die alone in my bedroom surrounded by paraphernalia or collectables that creepy old ladies have in their living rooms and no one will know that I even existed.
And then there are days where I am so optimistic about my future that I am mentally monogramming towels for the guest bathroom and planning perfect outings and the perfect outfits and being annoyingly cheerful about the romantic road ahead.
Take the Pearl (who, it is worth noting, called. Of course I didn’t pick up. The last time I heard from her was last week – Wednesday. Really.) Something about tall girls with blonde hair sends me into a state of frenzied hopefulness that lasts until something crazy happens – like she disappears for good, or another woman does something so terribly stupid that I lose faith in the entire gender or someone I know announces that they are engaged/pregnant and I start mentally counting how many years I have left until I get too old to “do it”.
I haven’t quite decided if optimistic or pessimistic is easier for me – on one hand I am somewhat of a hopeless romantic who does want to believe that there is someone out there for me. On the other hand, I have dated some of the least eligible women in the tri-state area, been lied to, emotionally misled, made to feel inferior by some and generally creeped out by others. I could choose pessimism, and who would blame me? Conversely, I could plug my fingers in my ears and ignore the mounting evidence against happily ever after for a little longer, choosing instead to default to the fairy tale stories that nurtured my dreams as a child.
I try to maintain a balance – hopeful enough to stay open to a relationship, but cynical enough not to fall for the first lady who buys me a beer and checks out my ass. But I am constantly teetering between WOE is me and one day my Prince(ss) WILL come.
I think we can all be a little like what I described. Of course not in a mentally unstable way – of course, but in a way that can be entertaining. For example – One day I am convinced that I will never date another woman again, I will never speak to the Pearl or that I will die alone in my bedroom surrounded by paraphernalia or collectables that creepy old ladies have in their living rooms and no one will know that I even existed.
And then there are days where I am so optimistic about my future that I am mentally monogramming towels for the guest bathroom and planning perfect outings and the perfect outfits and being annoyingly cheerful about the romantic road ahead.
Take the Pearl (who, it is worth noting, called. Of course I didn’t pick up. The last time I heard from her was last week – Wednesday. Really.) Something about tall girls with blonde hair sends me into a state of frenzied hopefulness that lasts until something crazy happens – like she disappears for good, or another woman does something so terribly stupid that I lose faith in the entire gender or someone I know announces that they are engaged/pregnant and I start mentally counting how many years I have left until I get too old to “do it”.
I haven’t quite decided if optimistic or pessimistic is easier for me – on one hand I am somewhat of a hopeless romantic who does want to believe that there is someone out there for me. On the other hand, I have dated some of the least eligible women in the tri-state area, been lied to, emotionally misled, made to feel inferior by some and generally creeped out by others. I could choose pessimism, and who would blame me? Conversely, I could plug my fingers in my ears and ignore the mounting evidence against happily ever after for a little longer, choosing instead to default to the fairy tale stories that nurtured my dreams as a child.
I try to maintain a balance – hopeful enough to stay open to a relationship, but cynical enough not to fall for the first lady who buys me a beer and checks out my ass. But I am constantly teetering between WOE is me and one day my Prince(ss) WILL come.
I feel ya but Prince(ss)?? what do you mean by that??
Lauren - life is a bitch.
choose pessimism. lol!!
tiff - its so hard. but with you around i'm sure it will be a breeze.
I love you.