Posts Tagged ‘friend

17
Apr
25

Beware the Game Show Network…Fools

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Beware the Game Show Network. It is full of fools.

***

Hi. I’m one member of a friend threesome. We have been good friends for numerous years. We have traveled the world and have many favorites we share. You would think our life is bliss. [You might also suspect we are sleeping together…like one brainy threesome with no standard other than similar levels of intelligence.] But, we cannot resist being part of a game show that is sure to make us look stupid. Even if we fail to win anything, we go home just as perfect as we were before we arrived on TV. Enjoy watching us waste your time and remember how perfect our life is while your life is not.

***

Listen. I, too, am part of a trio of friends who has to give ourselves a witty group name before competing against another team in one of the many, many trivia game shows that, if watched together, will likely drive your already mashed potato brain completely mad. We each have a lame story to justify our life’s purpose and intelligence. The least attractive of my group stands at the far end, with her back turned to the cameras, ensuring she will get the least TV exposure.

Anyone at home could tell this was done on purpose. But, we just went along with it because we all wanted to prove we were smart. Everyone watching game shows wants to prove they are just as smart. You sit at home, seeing what people are doing to win prize money, and you say, “I can do that!” Right?

We play a game similar to Password, trying to get our teammates to guess words given to us on a screen. We are failing miserably, but the youthful host is determined to make us feel good about ourselves. The show ends somewhat abruptly, and we go home feeling dumber and physically exhausted, which seem strange for a show that’s supposed to be a verbal and mental challenge.

***

I buckle under pressure, too; which is why it seems stupid for me to be part of a game show that intentionally seeks to peg someone as stupid by giving them very little time to solve wacky puzzles on a touch screen. Many of the puzzles are actually rather witty, themselves. So, it’s not all bad being a genuine fool. I think the audience, at home, gets something out of watching.

***

I hosted said game show with visual puzzles that make you think outside the box to avoid me calling you stupid. I exposed my relationship status many times and often flirted with the female guests, even the lesbian ones. Obviously, that did not change my relationship status, because I came back, day after day, with the same story.

I am not a fool because I call myself a FOL. See? I took out one letter to change the spelling of the word. That takes intelligence…I think. Stop staring at my unusually large hands and odd outfit combinations.

[Actually, I think the host was/is rather amusing. And, most of the puzzles are amusing and/or decent tests of observation…not all of the tests, though. So, ‘no offense intended. But, you do place yourself among many other fools. And, damn, those two lesbians were very attractive.]

***

I was on a trivia game show that put three supposedly average people up against three “celebrities,” noted for their televised prowess on other trivia-related game shows. I helped viewers at home sit through an hour of failure laced with little supposed factoids supplied by the know-it-alls. In the final round, when it was just me versus the “expert” with the highest individual score from their group, I missed more than one question and didn’t go home with much.

Later, at home, I watched some other episodes and noticed a pattern. I think the “experts” knew which of them was going to be in the final round and answered accordingly. And, in the final round, I think the final know-it-all also intentionally answered in a way that gave me minimal hope of surviving until the final question, when they politely kicked me out the exit door.

***

I strongly disagree with the above testimony. I was on the same trivia game show and not only defeated the three experts but came back two more times and achieved the same feat to become one of the experts. Earning the right to appear on other trivia-related game shows, I now can speak freely about whatever someone else fails to know as true and annoy countless TV viewers with my big brain and not-so-big mouth. I enjoy dry cereal made of dictionaries and the New York Times. I literally eat books and newspapers. But, I can’t seem to make as much money as the other brainiacs who seem to always be on TV. I guess emulating or trying to compete with someone already deemed famously smart isn’t very smart.

***

I was on a similar trivia game show, with one expert at the top of some flashy mountain just to boost his ego. I was among three people who were all convinced we were very smart by people we know. I guess I let my support system influence me too much; I turned out to be a big dummy, utterly squashed by the big mouth in charge. The lovely hostess tried to make light of the situation but failed. I know now not to be so trusting of others’ opinions about myself, which will probably erode my self-esteem as I get older and dumber.

***

I am the (gorgeous) host of the forementioned trivia game show…well, actually, I hosted a few, and they featured some of the same know-it-alls. On one of my shows, which went on to appear on another channel and feature a variety of experts at the top of the mountain, put on rotation, I was forced to repeatedly address the know-it-all by his nickname. [I don’t host that other version.] I said his nickname so many times; I think my powerful jaws became stuck in perpetual motion. I go home, many nights, just repeating that name to no one. Sometimes, it just pops up in conversation.

It’s a beastly bad habit. I know. But, hey, I’m keeping busier and looking better than I probably did on that old joke about being a lifeguard. And, I didn’t have to radically change my appearance to put that behind me, like some Aquaman I know.

When I’m not bowing down to a British giant, I like to deliver questions to contestants at such an alarming rate, I fear, one day, my head will just fly off into the studio audience anyone rarely sees…because there are not many big winners on the shows I host. It’s a good thing I like to eat and never gain a pound.

[And, I don’t mind that last bit, either. That is one dreamy game-show hostess.]

***

Hey. I was on a dating game show that didn’t last long, probably because it smelled too much like the host’s other famous show, which ran too long for the sleazy crap it was, as did its cheap spin-off. As a contestant, I was required to describe three faults or quirks I have, in a few words, and put each answer in a silly piece of silvery luggage.

The lone woman, who had to pick one of us three guys for a date, not a commitment, just a date (planned by the makers of the show), did not like at least one of my “secrets.” Like many other people in my shoes, I told her I would burn my past and change my ways for her. [You might say it was a bold-faced lie to get the girl.] She seemed remotely pleased by that offer. [I’ll take that as a maybe.]

Unfortunately, my choice of words was more scandalous than accurate. I went home looking and feeling worse than when I arrived. Now, I’m marked for life as the loser I was on TV (thanks to reruns used as filler on a faulty broadcast TV system).

***

Yo. I was on that same dating show, but I was the star who had to put one answer in a single red piece of luggage. I had less chance of being rejected than the other three players in the room. I had a choice of three fine women. Being a rather superficial, immature (though mature in physique, which I pumped and sprayed at the gym) and selfish guy, I quickly eliminated the one gal who was the most nerdy because she freaked me out. Some other artsy loser can pick her up outside the studio; I’m sure. So, that left me with a nutcase and a hooker. I chose the hooker. But, when she saw my “big secret,” she rejected me. I think she misunderstood what I said. ‘Live and learn I guess.

***

Hi. I was a woman on that same dating show and in the previous speaker’s position, with the choice of three possible dates. I quickly rejected the one guy who still valued his mother and lived with his parents, because that’s the standard with this gig. I mean, who accepts an adult man who lives with his parents?

This left me with a scrawny nerd in debt and a hunk who barely fit in a suit. I couldn’t pick the nerd because that would just give other nerds false hope of landing someone as hot as me. And, I cannot process being with someone who houses a huge toy collection, even if it includes sex toys.

I chose the hunk, who, thankfully, did not mind me being a stripper, though I did not use that particular word to describe myself. We went on the show’s pre-packaged date and had lousy sex before looking for other cheap and lousy game shows to expose ourselves and build a crappy TV resume. If you see me, again, anywhere, I’ve surely had my brain removed and am now just a cyborg.

***

I also was a gorgeous woman who had to pick one of three guys on that same quasi-dating game show. However, I ultimately picked the most ethnic, immature and dorky of the guys, who had to accept that I was both a lawyer and a stripper, exclusively for some wealthy guys linked to the game show, itself, which I could not admit on TV (even though the host giving me a peck on the cheek might have given a clue). I gave false hope to other fools like my date to boost the show’s audience and round up other fools.

The date was just a formality to make the show appear like a success. I ditched the dork with a clause in my contract and never saw him, again. Actually, we did cross paths, but a restraining order set him straight…or gay. I can’t remember, anymore. I handle a lot of men. Ha.

***

Hey, folks. I was the host of that dating show, when Match.com was still hip and televised. It wasn’t just a dating show; it also advertised a talent-seeking agency for which any of the contestants could apply to do something other than humiliate themselves in a strangely limited social environment. [So, it’s possible some if not all contestants were staged and grouped for a preset result.]

I am a very witty guy with dentures, who can make countless jokes about himself and speak rather intelligently when pressed. But, instead of hosting something that puts my assets to good use, I am pegged as a “shock jock,” bent to getting scandalous noises out of the audience.

Unlike the other fools who appear on shows like mine, I had plenty of time to entertain viewers. Unfortunately, the nature of the shows I host eventually lose their charm almost as fast as viewers lose brain cells. But, when one show bombs, another is sure to rise from its ashes. So, don’t worry about me. I’ll keep cracking wise until my head falls to the floor.

***

Hey, America (and whoever else may be reading this remote blog). I hosted a game show that was supposed to be hip, trendy and modern…because it involved something I know we all love to use…EMOJIS! Yes, and it required contestants to see things in emoji codes which few if any people actually could do, because the selection of emojis and time on the clock were rather limited. Try playing Charades with only fifteen possible hand gestures. How DO you get someone to guess “Raiders of the Lost Ark” by using a hand, a box, a pirate and a puzzled face? I have no idea. But, I’m glad I was making money while the contestants went home with corporate swag and subscriptions to things no one needs.

***

I was a contestant on the forementioned emoji-laden game show. I was at a mall (in some part of Southern California) when I saw someone offering applications. A friend of mine, who likes to text with me, thought we would be good contestants, and, buckling under a fair amount of peer pressure, I agreed. I thought a show about texting was far easier than one that required you to use knowledge I failed to grasp in school; and I don’t read much, anyway.

On the show, I got nothing right and ultimately decided to never use emojis in my daily life; nor will I ever likely play a similar game, like Charades. When that emoji movie came out, I freaked and cut off all of my hair. If anyone tries to use emojis with me, I will probably break my own phone in a fit of uncontrollable rage. I shouldn’t even use the damn word…emoji! Ugh!

***

It’s been over twenty years since I hosted my game show, with a very sexy blonde assistant who had a strange name and little to say…because I swallowed up eighty percent of the air time with my non-stop rambling. Together, with a third person whose job was to put contestant pairs to sleep by whispering random factoids, we tested the physical and mental limits of red-eyed fools and offered little reward to compensate for the madness and therapy that would likely follow. The show was a play on what many students go through to pass the big tests they take in school.

So, you see; I’m no fool, even if my hairdo looked dated…like really far out, if you dig what I’m saying. I made money for my effort and didn’t lose any sleep. I just ran a sweat shop that bent others like slaves for my own amusement. I also had one of the most attractive assistants who just wasn’t getting enough better roles, anywhere. Those are the perks of being in charge of my destiny and not the pawn.

***

I was part of a reboot for newly married couples, hosted by some woman who I did not recognize because I don’t watch many movies or TV shows and don’t listen to music made before 2001. My new husband and I had a not-so-crazy story to tell about how we met, which gave viewers the impression we were close. But, as it turned out, we knew very little about each other and were terrible at reading minds. Instead, we just answered like the other couples, which didn’t do us any favors. Many of the questions were innuendoes, which I did not understand. [Why is this show so lewd?] I didn’t know there would be a kiss camera, either. In the end, we went home with a certificate for the loser-steak-of-the-month club and plenty to discuss in couple’s therapy. I’d say the experience was a waste of time, but, of course, my soon-to-be ex-husband disagrees.

***

I was also on that game show for newly married couples, and my lovely wife and I actually won! We were VERY in tune with each other and matched on nearly every question. We took the big prize trip to Antigua and met several other game-show winners. It seems Antigua is the pit where seventy-five percent of game show winners go to die like lemmings. I thought it was supposed to be a tropical paradise. There were so many people trying to sell me something. I came home covered in business cards and coupons I’ll likely never use.

25
Jan
25

The Waiter Gamble; How Much Attention Do You Give Your Customers to Get a Good Tip

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I’ve been occasionally discussing and hearing about introverts and extroverts. And, upon hearing something about restaurant service, particularly how introverts seem bothered by waitstaff who ask questions too hastily/often, it hits me. It’s the waitstaff gambling with their customers.

The game is sorting the introverts from the extroverts. If they get it wrong, the tip should suffer. If they get it right, the customer will not only welcome the social interaction but be more willing to give a decent tip. But, the game only pays off with extroverts.

I get it, now. Yet, if it was me, do I want to take that chance? ‘Probably not. I’d like to think there has to be a better way to satisfy the curiosity and both types of customers…because, seriously, I’m with anyone who gets annoyed when the waiter/waitress asks how you’re meal is before you’ve had time to digest any of it. Ask me if I need more drink or anything before I have an empty glass or plate?…you’re crazy to me, and I won’t feel good about tipping.

–For those of you with short attention spans, class dismissed. You can go on your way. But, if you are open to deeper discussion about restaurant/customer service, continue.–

I’m not comfortable with the concept of tipping, regardless, because it feels forced/expected, rather than something to show gratitude for good service. I feel like I’m at gunpoint with a risk of leaving someone homeless if I don’t tip well. But, if you want a really good tip, I require or hope for a few things:

In short order: reliable friendship (even better if you can pass a welcome note), observant courtesy (not a forced act that fails to notice my status) and, when I have the appetite, something chocolate (but not just any chocolate).

1) Establish a friendship with me (so I’ll be happy to come back and/or see you, again, someday).

I know it’s not usually (if ever) recommended for/at a job, but I am too often starved for friendship. So, if you can be someone I can count on when I visit your workplace, I will be more inclined to offer a (good) tip or, maybe, something else that still benefits you (which might be better than money). Word of (my) mouth can work wonders. You might think friendship would remove the desire to tip someone, but that’s not guaranteed. I think, once I feel at ease and realize a tip would be a nice gesture, I’ll give one. A tip shouldn’t be a hoop I jump through. I should feel you deserve it.]

[I guess I need to feel comfortable and relaxed to ease the grip on my wallet. Don’t toy with that feeling or put on an act.]

It’s okay to be uneasy or nervous, but don’t infect me with your anxiety. If you feel unsure about something, it’s better to joke or admit it without using the word “sorry.” [Sorry will raise my eyebrow and put me on edge because now I worry something is wrong with the food or my money.] If you tell me you are nervous, I’ll be more considerate…and maybe ask why.

[If you’re in need of money, for any reason, I am not the sort who responds well. I don’t mean to sound stingy/cheap, but a beggar doesn’t bring out my generosity. When I see someone in need and know I can help, I will hopefully feel compelled (to help). If your toilet is clogged, and we’re friends, I’ll probably go buy a plunger if you don’t already have one. If you’re hungry and I know I can fetch you something, I will. That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to bring food every time to every person who happens to be hungry (unless I’m a waiter with access to that food).]

As your friend, if I notice you are in need of something, I’ll be more inclined to offer money/help. [Doesn’t that make simple sense? ‘Versus putting your hand out and saying, “Give me more/your money.”]

If we can’t be friends, so to speak, at least show good manners (which will be further discussed in my second request). But, understand, if we don’t “gel,” I’m not happy to tip you (if that’s what you’re seeking). As long as you don’t annoy me, I’ll still respect you, though. And, some days, that’s just as good as a tip, to me.

Friendly interaction does not mean we get into heavy conversation…because that means you either have too much free time (not enough customers and a chance the boss will take that out on you) or you’re not letting me eat on my own clock. If you want to talk–and, sometimes, I do, too–be smart and invite or offer a means of contact outside the restaurant.

**Hand me a phone number or email address with your first name, and you’re likely (not assuredly) golden. Personalized notes are usually a treat for me (occasionally creepy). [I like passing notes…though I never got the chance or nerve to do it in school. I can’t say I’ve had much good luck with passing notes, though…no…I cannot.]

It doesn’t mean I’ll respond to everyone who does this…but it’s better than heavy talk while I eat. Talk and eating do not get along. Not to mention, talking while eating means I eat/enjoy less food/drink and thus am less satisfied, in the end.

[A business card isn’t as nice as a hand-written note. And, if the card is offered prematurely or too casually, I won’t approve it (though I am an artist who may approve of a nicely crafted one). I’ll probably hold onto and dispose of it, later. First, you have to be sure I’m happy (not forced) to talk with you, which usually means I feel awkward for being too chatty while eating (and that’s actually a good thing). That’s your window to offer a means of contact.]

[If I am the waiter and talk too much, I can almost guess when a customer will turn against me. I’m already using too many words for this topic. I have to discipline myself…more than I actually do…because it’s too easy for me to slip, sometimes. And, that’s me not being a very social guy…a borderline introvert.]

[When my job is customer service, regardless what the business is, I make it my job to observe and learn from the customer, not enforce or expect based upon company policy. Good customer service is not dictated by one person who is not present in the moment; it’s not a standard you set or advertise. That sort of service is more like a souvenir or swag you come to buy than something that makes you comfortable and content. I enjoy customer service when I can read a customer and satisfy them without being a doormat and, ideally, without wounding my employer/business. If I don’t feel up to being that observant and/or courteous, the least I can do is maintain a respectful distance and let the customer request something of me; be available (but still not a doormat). Any employer who makes me feel pressured to be their doormat can rot in bankruptcy, no matter what you pressure me to say in an interview.]

[In my experience, friendship is better than a tip. But, I have yet to work a job that made me feel dependent upon tips. And, when someone, rarely, offers me a tip, I feel a little uncomfortable. If someone offers me good food (food I like) or something like clothing I would wear, as a “tip,” I’m more inclined to be grateful (if not a little speechless). I once had a customer bring me bakery from his daughter’s shop, and, even though it wasn’t food I particularly liked, it made me feel like a friend. A bonus or extra money for something I charge a fee (ie. a commissioned piece of art I made) is appreciated. But, if I’m not the one charging the fee for my service, if I’m not my own employer, so to speak, I’m unsure how to respond to a tip.]

[However, if I see someone working with me get a tip (and I don’t get one, too), I’m certainly agitated…and that has happened to me. I recommend discreet tipping versus overt tipping unless you have good reason. I’ve had moments, myself, when I felt someone deserved a reward/tip and made a minor public scene to deliver my offering (while casting a leering eye at those who did not deserve the same).]

2) Read the room…or, table, I guess.

This is not required in addition to #1. If you can adequately read the room/table without becoming a friend, I’ll still be inclined to tip you for being so intelligent and courteous. [But, a reliable friend would be nice.]

Reading the room/table shows you are being a conscious and, ideally, courteous server (though assistant would be a better word). That’s what gets tips (when a tip is a bonus for exceptional service). Any other type of behavior is some company enforcing a routine; you might as well be a customary hand towel or mint on a pillow. I don’t tip mints on pillows.

I’d throw in reading me like a book as a good thing. I fantasize about women being able to exhibit this skill (just as I get a little enjoyment when I feel able to read a woman’s thoughts and say something before she can put it into similar words). But, if you read me too well…and I detect that…and you seem to be enjoying yourself more than you’re making me feel comfortable (being so obvious)…I’ll turn on you. And, you won’t get a good tip from me. It’s great if you can figure out what I want or like, but don’t make it look so easy or amusing. Remain modest and polite. Reading someone is enjoyable, but when it’s too easy, someone may get hurt.

A good job of reading someone is knowing when a person is visibly stuffed or satisfied…or not stuffed or not satisfied. There should be visible clues. And, if you don’t get that much, don’t bother asking until the customer has emptied their plate(s).

[If I am sweating at my table or see someone sweating at their table, that is not the cue to get more anything. That means someone is overheated and/or bloated. So, if you ask that person about a refill or add-on, you’re stupid. If you’re going to offer a sweating customer anything, ask if they need water and what temperature they’d prefer. Water helps with digestion. You can’t exactly alter the air conditioning of the place to accommodate every customer, but you can possibly help them become more comfortable with clean, safe water at the right temperature. Maybe a handfan would help some customers, too. But, that isn’t something I expect any restaurant to offer; I’ve never seen a restaurant do that.]

Another suggestion might be finding a different choice of words, something other than “How’s everybody doing?” “How’s everybody doing,” to me, sounds like “How soon will you be done, so we can replace you with someone else.” It makes me feel like I need to get moving. I’m not eating fast enough to please your boss.

You pass by the table…you see what’s eaten or not fully eaten…you make an assessment and then decide if you need to say something. If you want or need to know if someone needs something, ask, “Does anyone need anything?” If someone at one of your tables doesn’t make eye contact, you don’t need to address them. You don’t have to go any further by mentioning an item (unless you’re good at reading the customer and thus can tell they want more). Let the customer fill in the blanks. You already said “anything.”

[A good sign of a customer needing or wanting more of something is when they smile and/or lick their lips after either sampling or finishing something. If you can notice that much, there’s a chance the customer will respond well to asking if they want another/a refill. Better yet, if you can offer one “to go,” the customer will probably–at least, I would–feel better about not only leaving your workplace but coming back to it, another time.]

[For me, personally, a chocolate dessert is almost always a good move unless I’m already bloated and/or sweating from what I ate (and probably need a “doggy bag” to finish at home). So, if you see me coming and offer something chocolate (not the dark or white kind), you’re on the right track. If I have enough room for dessert, I will reach out to the staff before I pay the bill. I don’t need to be asked about dessert…but I also won’t mind if you can tell I’m, at least, still hungry. But, more often, I will go to get something solely as a dessert rather than tack on a dessert to a big meal. Being stuffed doesn’t make me more generous with tips, either. That feels more like someone is inflicting pain on my body for money. And, if I am not visibly happy about my dessert, if I don’t lick my lips and flex my eyebrows while smiling, we both made a mistake…but it doesn’t mean I will tip more while feeling regret.]

[Why does anyone ask before the customer is done with eating/drinking something? I blame “the game” and businesses driven by this odd pressure to engage customers without courtesy. Forced courtesy is not courtesy. Conscious attention to a customer’s needs and/or reactions is. Or, at least, be observant of the table’s status before you engage a customer. A half-finished item is not the time for a refill or add-on, no matter what anyone says. All-you-can-eat pressure helps no one, in the end. I’ve seen enough places file bankruptcy to verify my opinion.]

On the opposite end of the scale, if you wait on my table with either a cold or overly cheerful presence, I’ll be uncomfortable and wary. Overly cheerful staff, people who seem programmed to smile and make everything sound “super,” are an immediate red flag to me. I don’t tolerate phony well. And, I hate the “act.” I don’t like waitstaff doing it, and I don’t like places that enforce it. So, if you don’t get a good tip/response from me, it may not be your fault, alone. It’s just the (way of that) place. I’d rather you be unfriendly and lost in your own head…but that won’t make me want to tip you.

[Phew! That was a long one!]

3) That should do it. Just two rather roomy expectations. Though, the thing about chocolate desserts could be considered a separate third and a perk/gamble. [If the dessert, or any part of what I order, doesn’t satisfy me, you can forget about the tip (even if ordering too much or lacking food/drink is my own fault)…unless your personality is so stellar (in my opinion) that the food doesn’t matter.]

[I saw an interview with Daniel Dae Kim in which he said some part of Korea had buttons at restaurant tables to buzz for service, versus waving your hands in the air or waiting for someone to come to you on their own. I understand the minor introvert comfort in that button. But, being empathetic to the waitstaff, if I was one of them, I wouldn’t exactly want to hear/feel the “buzz,” especially if multiple tables did that. And, to be honest, I’d expect some fools at the wrong time of day to abuse that button, just for a laugh. It might help light which tables need something, but it could also put staff on edge. And, no one needs an edgy waiter or manager. But, maybe a button that just lights up something at each table would be enough for a waiter/manager to notice and investigate. Or, maybe have the accent lamp for each table change the color of its light when a NEED button is pressed.]

20
Dec
24

My Response to Four Months Into… (Ask Carolyn)

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Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “Four months into rekindling, partner recalls why they broke up.”

In this letter, Dumb and Dumber, the younger female half of a heterosexual couple (you have to be specific, these days) addresses her concern and guilt for restarting a relationship that she previously ended, claiming her chosen partner wasn’t smart enough. She never confessed her reason for the breakup. The older male half of the couple is described as a very sweet, loving and oblivious guy, basically a cuddly dog who won’t stop humping and licking you until you fully embrace him and admit he’s adorable.

Essentially, the woman (in her 40s), feels lousy for both falling back in love with “Puppyman” (my nickname for further reference) and for being unsure how to reclaim the distance she had established the first time she cut ties. Imagine finding a stray dog that makes you “awww” until you decide you cannot adequately care for the animal. You need to let the wannabe pet go, but it pains you to remove the leash and shove him out the door (especially when he won’t stop coming to the door and howling for you). That is the situation.

Carolyn says “Dumb” needs to respect the man’s need to feel loved and accept the decision she previously made rather than let an inadequate lie linger. She also makes a minor suggestion to try retaining the relationship as friends who occasionally date versus a steady relationship…but I fear that might only extend the discomfort.

While I agree this reformed relationship needs to end (again), peacefully, I think there is, at least, one option Carolyn missed.

————–

Dumb and Dumber, I think I like you…AWLOUGHT. [Have I already used this movie reference in response to an Ask Carolyn letter?] Knowing myself from past experience, that’s probably a bad sign and a misguided feeling. This may be my equivalent of favoring the “bad girl” though I don’t have enough information to peg you as the rebel without a clue.

You sound like someone who would be an intellectual equal (and, thus, a worthy partner)…or rival, the latter not being a good person. No one needs to feel dwarfed by your ego (nor mine). And, I’ve met my share of girls and women who can easily make me feel small and inadequate. Some of your words–like “discuss deeply”–strike a positive chord with my soul. I see myself holding hands with you, letting our minds intertwine. Then I read “he doesn’t read” and “his thoughts are simple.” And, suddenly, I don’t feel so comfortable, even if I don’t think my thoughts are “simple.” [I’m also not an avid reader, even though I’ve become a rather wordy guy with a growing vocabulary and fussiness about grammar.]

Perhaps, the only thing saving you from being deemed a completely careless, insensitive person is your desire to change your own outlook/behavior to salvage this relationship. But, that sounds like one of those soulful journeys life makes you take on your own, which can only be understood and completed in your own head. A columnist in any newspaper is not quite the same source of sage advice as a god or wiseman you might find atop some distant mountain…unless a higher power opts to speak through such a vessel. Maybe you need to sit down with someone and hash this out, face to face. A short letter cannot suffice.

Indulge me while I take the long road to my suggestion. I hope someone as intellectual as you can appreciate the length and depth of my thoughts. Maybe something in my words will bring you the epiphany you need. Hopefully, I don’t waste time by repeating what Carolyn and/or I have already said.

You’re a cat person dating a dog…again.

For visual reference, look up the cartoon series Animaniacs and watch an episode or two of Rita and Runt. You are Rita, and this guy is Runt. Rita cannot find the male cat of her dreams as long as she puts up with Runt. But, because Runt is such a reliable friend, in his own sad, pathetic way, she cannot part with him. Runt doesn’t seem to have the capacity or desire to pursue anyone other then Rita, who he sees only as a constant companion (and a fellow dog because he’s…not very bright); as long as he stays with her, he can never be alone. Occasionally, Rita wishes she had some alone time to sort out her feelings. Runt doesn’t understand or respect that; his primary motivation is to stick with Rita, a good dog.

I think respect(1) works with understanding. Someone cannot feel properly respected if another person doesn’t understand them. Following the Golden Rule, doing to others what you would want done to you, is a good general path to respect but isn’t the sort that should make anyone feel special. It should be common, for everyone. If I am providing a service to you, it’s respectful to address you with kindness and consideration for any concerns you may have. Without knowing you, individually, specifically, I can only respect so much and may still upset you.

So, if your Puppyman truly respects YOU, he must understand you…and that suggests intelligence.(3) If your “simple” boyfriend is truly compassionate(4), wouldn’t he have to understand you well enough? Wouldn’t that suggest intelligence? [Maybe you’re confusing respect with harm-free adoration; he’s not doing anything to make you feel hurt or violated while applying heavy affection. Or, maybe this guy is just more respectful, in general, to everyone he meets, more than anyone else you know.]

You hold yourself in high regard without mentioning any potential flaws (or even a weakness other than being completely honest with someone you value at a crucial time)…yet you can turn any positive this guy has into a flaw for him; you can spoil all of his assets with one line. You enjoy him being your devoted cheerleader but cannot think clearly (or brightly) enough to voice the truth. That is a lack of respect and compassion fueled by fear. Fear is not the flaw; it’s fuel for what you did (and may still do) wrong.

[If you cannot see or admit your own potential flaws, how can you hope to change your outlook? If you’ve done nothing wrong, what can you possibly correct?]

Is living with a lie intelligent? Isn’t being able to be completely honest with your chosen partner part of being respectful and compassionate? Expressing concern for someone’s well-being doesn’t have to be “gaslighting.” And, while the truth may hurt, a withheld truth hurts even more because it comes with wasted time and deception.

Let me hold you by the biceps and say…no one is forcing you to stay with this guy, even if it pains you to put up with his obliviousness and to be honest with him. You can’t teach an old dog cat tricks. You could spend a fortune and lifetime in therapy trying to find a moral loophole that would burst the bubble of distress in your heart.

You want someone who lights your fire and keeps you on your toes, a bit. Right? [See. How can I possibly get your answer unless we’re in the same room or exchanging messages more freely?] You want a man who knows his place, can read the room and who isn’t pawing at your door because he can’t stand to be alone while you take some time for yourself. You want stimulation of the mind, body and soul…in moderation, when you want to be stimulated. You want someone who won’t intentionally hurt or mistreat you yet someone who will not bend to your every whim like a limp banana peel. What you want, honestly, is not without risk. Unfortunately, the guy you currently have can only offer warmth of the heart and risks being, eventually, hurt by you.

You want to change yourself so you can get past the very thing that irked you enough to end the relationship the first time. That’s like asking the world to become a cube after being a sphere for so long. And, from personal experience, by the time you even attempt to achieve this arduous goal of self-discipline, something could happen which throws a wrench in your plan, giving you another reason to feel lost and out of place. You’ll lose twice as much precious lifetime by the time you resolve round two.

People who place conditions on change typically don’t change. If you change for someone other than yourself, you risk reverting to your old self when that person fails to meet some standard or leaves you. It’s only fair that you pick up your old habit after getting hurt. [Not.] If you’re going to change your nature, you will likely have to work that out on your own. You change, already, based upon your experiences. Apparently, something inside you did not change between the time you cut ties with this guy and his return.

However, if you can afford the risk, you could let this restarted relationship run its course, just to see if you or the guy would change in some satisfying way, a natural way of adjusting your outlook on the situation, rather than making a hasty decision from a difficult position and a ticking biological clock.

——-

Self-analysis detour…

If interested, I have a moderate confession following the core of my response. You can just scroll down to (2). Not everyone wants to hear someone preach or preach about oneself. So, it’s your choice. I’m trying something new by reducing content for maximum attention retention, leaving meandering and branching thoughts for optional additional reading at the tail end.

——-

Die-hard romantics would say something special brought you two back together. But, you don’t sound convinced.

You say you never told this guy why you broke up with him. You didn’t say anything because, probably, he wouldn’t be able to process the information (or you know you’d be devastated if he said what you were thinking). And, he’s clearly not “smart” enough to ask or get the true answer. [Or, maybe, he’s just as afraid of the hard truth as you.] If you play a game with someone who never gets upset when they lose (while you do, do get upset when you lose), you’ll only get more upset with the situation when you finally have to quit. And, how maddening is it to get upset when someone right next to you is oblivious to the reason for your frustration?

How can you possibly keep that knife in a drawer while you indulge a second helping of something that doesn’t fully satisfy you? Even if you managed to change your behavior and/or mind in some way that could miraculously tolerate this guy better than you did before, the history/evidence remains. Can you really forget the first breakup and its reason?

You want a quick resolution of this internal conflict? Have Puppyman read the column you just built with Carolyn Hax. See what he says in response. And, if he is not hurt by the details, by your own words (probably because he’s too nice or “simple”), you should have your answer. Right?

Dating Puppyman, casually (as Carolyn suggests as a weak option), won’t make life any better because you’ll still be wanting that ideal partner while you entertain a human pet. Can you really date two (or more) men and manage to keep Puppyman at a safe distance, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea or mess with your head and heart (again)? Ideally, you could arrange a male harem, so Puppyman would have a steady place in your life. [That’s not the suggestion I was going to make, but it’s an outside-the-box possibility.]

[I can totally see the 80s movie/sitcom, now. It’s like Bosom Buddies, except there’s only one woman and the two very different guys standing behind the sofa upon which you recline. You are played by someone like Jennifer Grey or Bridget Fonda. One guy is a total “hunk,” wearing a brown suit and blue tie, while the other is a stout “goofball” in some ill-fit, black-and-white striped shirt and tan cargo pants. Hunky guy is all charm though he claims to be intelligent; at least, he has a job. The goofball is surprisingly smart and charming in his own odd way. Insert a sappy anthem with the line “days go by,” and it’s a wrap.]

Try explaining to the guy you really want why Puppyman is always around and more than a casual friend. Even if Puppyman remains a dear friend, I would expect the next Mr. Right to be, at least, somewhat bothered by his presence, from your description. If a more intellectual guy treats Puppyman poorly, flaunting his own “smarter” ego, you might feel twice the pain you already do. Or, you might unconsciously slight or ignore Puppyman, letting your passion take control as you focus your energies on the “smarter” guy.

If a guy can meet your intellectual-equal standard and be completely okay with you being close friends with Puppyman, I question his intellect and wonder if he isn’t simply pretending to be a steady partner while keeping his eyes and schedule open (if you grasp what I’m suggesting). Of course, the ideal guy would be highly intellectual, witty and nice enough to entertain any male friends you may have without engaging in secretive affairs. But, I don’t know that guy.

Okay. ‘Enough dancing around the subject.

Ask this beloved friend (of a one-sided sort) to be the “friend” who helps you find the man you really want while you find him a woman who can take him off your hands and make him as happy as he tries to make you. Find him someone who suits his personality and needs (if you are aware of those). Do him that final favor. No one should be using all of their energy to smother someone else with affection that is not fully respected or appreciated. [Hopefully, you have better luck than I did.]

Keeping a painful secret isn’t smart, in my opinion. I would not consider you bright nor compassionate for that. [I would question my own intelligence.]

I think both you and Puppyman need compassion. But, neither of you is getting it, right now. Your compassion is laced with fear of hurting someone so blind that he cannot tell when you are hiding something he should know. Those unpleasant feelings came back for a reason, just as he did. If you think this means you need to change for him, I’d suggest coming clean with him and then taking a solo journey somewhere like Tibet where you could meditate on the situation; get some higher power to touch you on the forehead with better insight/motivation.

How can you feel safe with someone denied the truth about your feelings? How can HE feel safe with YOU?

Now, if you have read all I have to say…and, oy, did I have to edit myself a few times to keep this from becoming a hundred-page novel…I respect your effort. I’d like to talk with you if you’re interested. Who knows. We might get along. I’m sure you can find the way to reach me.

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(1) How do I define respect? Initially, when you first meet someone, respect is your example of good manners; ideally, it’s how a person applies the Golden Rule. It may be inaccurate and, thus, feel disrespectful. But, that’s because the other person doesn’t know you, yet. However, a blatant lack of respect is apparent when you advise someone how to behave and they don’t listen. Later, respect entails knowing boundaries and maintaining them until a mutual decision is reached between two individuals to breach those boundaries. Respect is knowing what someone cares about and not saying or doing anything to wound those feelings. Occasionally, an emotionally wounded individual may lash out and violate respect.

Certain members of my family seem to get pleasure out of disrespecting boundaries, boundaries that have been stated multiple times. I say what shouldn’t be discussed during mealtime, and, yet, these daring jerks will upset my stomach just to get a reaction when the mood strikes them. When that happens, it’s hard to love and/or respect that person, even with my hardy sense of humor. I’d be inclined to question their intelligence, too. But, there is a darker force at play.

Respect may be confused with admiration, however. People may say they respect you when they actually admire you the way a religious person admires their god or mentor. People consumed with awe will often throw out the word respect.

=========

(2) I, unlike you, may be paranoid (in the opinion of some people) and aware of my own potential flaws, willing to admit, on occasion, when I’ve done wrong. I have been told I am very smart. When I used to believe that, I made foolish decisions which cost me and nearly killed me. I now filter compliments and prefer to say I am intellectual and probably give certain matters more thought than the average person does (to the extent some complain I think/say too much), even if my level of intelligence has been tested and rated “average.”

I’ll admit I am more thoughtful but not necessarily better than most people I’ve met; I consider myself a good listener but have been losing my focus as I age without adequate companionship. I used to be very patient, to the point of being a doormat; but circumstances have changed me. I have a fast temper that is rarely violent and fairly quick to extinguish itself if the problem doesn’t persist. I can see when I have said too much, when my “audience” is not being receptive. I may not always be aware of when I hurt someone with my words, but I like to think I have a pretty good radar, regardless. And, when someone says I have hurt them, I may not be quick to admit the blame but I am not so heartless that I don’t feel guilt or discomfort from what I did.

I can accept? that I will never be able to please everyone all of the time. And, those who cannot handle my words, who retain hurt when it is not intended, are just not meant to be partners. I cannot be nicer just to prevent someone from getting hurt. I often try too hard to be nice just to accomplish nothing. I can only be as nice as I am able to supply at the time. Others need to be understanding of and receptive to that, too.

Like you, I am seeking someone who can “read the room,” as I say, and who won’t simply smother me with mindless affection. Loving is great, but I need brains to come with that love. And, that person just has to click with me. There’s no math problem to solve or spell to cast or lucky charm to buy that can make that happen. Saying “sorry” is never enough. [Saying “sorry” more than once in any situation is annoying, even with a redhead I once thought was worth kissing at a young age.] And, sometimes, no matter what I or anyone tries to do to atone for what hurt they caused, the relationship cannot be saved. We have to accept defeat as a way of saying it wasn’t meant to be; if it was meant to be, it would work itself out.

I once tried to change my own mind to fully accept a woman as my partner. She came into my life when I was feeling really low and quickly vowed to be the friend no one else was. We had an unconventional long-distance relationship for a few months before finally meeting in person (at my financial risk).

I had reasons to both love and dislike her. The former included an undeniable aura which made her appear like a strong equal, something I highly value, not someone I’d have to reassure every day or who would make me feel like a complete loser (in comparison). I tried to get past the latter (reasons to dislike her) and even told her as much when I felt pressured to explain why I wasn’t jumping onto the marriage train.

She vowed to make changes in her own (unhealthy) habits, which suggested potential, though I felt she didn’t have to change just to make a relationship work. There were signs that also suggested she wasn’t going to change so easily, and I had to contend with that…just as she had to contend with my reluctance to change. Ideally, we would have been okay with each other, as we are, and the relationship would have grown from there.

Even when I tried something new outside my comfort zone, I was never charitable enough. [Experience and family have diminished my generosity.] We had different opinions on entertainment and sentimental collections, which was enough to suggest I was going to be pulling teeth just to share something I enjoyed. I’m sure she felt the same about some of her interests. We both had our ideas of thoughtful gifts and felt slighted when the response wasn’t ideal. Within a year, she secretly found an old flame who swept her off her feet; the news hit me like a train, even though she GENTLY informed me.

[Presently, she wants to remain friends, but it’s a tough sales pitch to make, considering we came close to having something…and then it was off the table. Every time I get the feeling I want to hold her and/or open up to her, I feel pressured by my conscience to withdraw. That’s not my place, anymore. If I had someone who swept me off my feet, we might meet on common ground and mind our distance. But, until that happens, there are barriers to friendship.]

I once said, if we couldn’t be eternally happy together (because I wasn’t sure this woman was “the one”), we’d help each other find our soulmates and attend both weddings. Her (second) wedding came before I could meet the guy, who I did not get the chance to approve; so I couldn’t exactly jump into a tux and fly down to her place. Still, I cried over being a lousy friend (and she did not).

I think the lesson was I should have trusted my gut, which wasn’t fully satisfied with what little I knew about the woman from the time we had together, even though I believed it was just a matter of warming up to someone who was a bit hasty with her own affections (and expectations). I was seduced by her kindness and inner strength. When she cried, I couldn’t get her to talk with me. She wanted marriage before I could even say “I love you.” Sometimes, timing matters, and we don’t always get as much time as we’d like with someone we consider a possibility.

=======

(3) Intelligence may be innate but it also comes with learning; when you retain what you learn, you become more intelligent. I guess that makes me fairly intelligent. But, I’m no Jeopardy champion. [Ha. ‘No way I’d ever win on that show without sheer luck.]

========

(4) When respect, fueled by proper mutual understanding, becomes affectionate, when it feels nice and warm like a generous hug, that’s compassion. Compassion goes beyond common respect by showing great depth of understanding, and it typically requires two people sharing a form of kindness. Respect keeps two people within a safe range of behavior. Compassion proves any range can be safe because there is great mutual understanding. Compassion is respect beyond mere words or heeded boundaries. You detect or sense respect in your mind. You feel compassion in the depths of your heart and, possibly, your soul.

Sometimes, compassion feels like a violation. A person claims to know you well enough and decides they need to do something to change your current situation. You feel like they just took your clothes, your dignity. I’m not the best judge of this. But, if the other person takes action for your benefit, it should eventually feel right in your heart. If you persist in feeling violated, even when someone is trying to help you, there is no compassion. However, if you can take the wild ride of uncertainty and admit you feel better, afterward, you might reward the compassion you received with some of your own (not to be confused with passion).

There’s a difference between unconditional love and being fully understanding of someone’s needs (and boundaries). Compassion is a two-way street that involves understanding each other, knowing when to be affectionate and when to mind your distance, knowing what makes another person happy rather than simply doing something with the intent to create happiness. Compassion is not mindless loving or denial of a person’s current mood.

02
Sep
23

The World Favors Jerks…at Least, in Online Gaming

****

Maybe it’s a no-brainer.  Maybe you don’t agree and have much better luck.  Maybe “it’s just me.”  But, no matter how many times I try to connect with people online, I get lumped with “children” and drug addicts who cannot perform certain functions…while the opposing team, 9 out of 10 times, contains 1-3 sharp-shooting jerks with inflated egos.  Sometimes, they pass themselves off as losers.  They give themselves names like ISUK, dress like rookies and then walk all over you until you cry mercy or flee.  Sometimes they form collectives and dominate the field like a pack of hyenas.  In any case, there are more jerks scheming and ripping people off, together, than there are groups of good people working toward a positive goal.  Good friendships are SO SO SO hard to find.  But, jerks seem to find each other and form gangs ever so damn easily; it’s sickening.  And, I am tired of having to fight for my life to stay afloat with a–I can’t help it–team of inept babies/potheads and cowards thrown up against teams of calculating monsters who make you wish you never took interest in these games.

18
May
23

Where Is “Somewhere Else?”

***

Have you ever heard that old song that talks about being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or, is it the right place at the wrong time? It seems I am perpetually in a similar position, and someone feels obligated to let me know. It’s as if I am stuck in some sort of Alice-in-Wonderland story with countless characters steering me away from where I am or think I should be.

If I choose to pick up pencil/pen and paper and draw something, that’s nice…but could I draw somewhere else at some other time? This isn’t the time or place for that. And, so many wish I had a better place to use that talent, a talent which I think is less impressive on paper than it is in my mind and the minds of those who see what I create. [My true talent is in composition and in my imagination and possibility thinking, in getting people to visualize great opportunities and awe-inspiring concepts…when I believe in the concept, not to sell merchandise for someone else.]

Then there will be moments when I express an interest in or ability to draw/create something, and someone will get excited and want me to do that and more…until I start and hear them or someone else tell me, again, it’s the wrong place and time for creating. And then there are other moments when I resist or refuse to draw/create and someone will say, “Didn’t you say you’re an artist? Why aren’t you using that talent?”

If I choose to speak–about anything–at length, I soon enough hit a roadblock with someone and have to curb my words. Oh no; I’ve said too much. [Yes, I hear REM, too.] I said something inappropriate, even if I try to speak cautiously and respect the interests of those present. Look out; it’s the next detour which is sending me to Shutitville. I’ll see you some other time, maybe. Or, I should realize you and I will never see eye-to-eye and avoid future discussions (with you). [Some people you try so hard to communicate with that you fail to accept the possibility that not everyone will “click” with your way of thinking. Some connections you just have to avoid or accept as failures.]

If I try to make friends online, without first seeing someone’s face and physically shaking their hand, I’m weird and/or crazy. Certain games provide the means to connect with other players…and then, perhaps, post notices about privacy and avoiding certain subjects to protect them and everyone’s privacy…which makes the whole interactive aspect questionable. Are we so starved for social contact that we inject it into video/computer games only to wince and feel pain when it’s too much to bear? Why play dangerously?

All I know is that I see an opportunity to socialize without my usual face-to-face social anxiety, to meet and interact with people around the world, to put an internet tool to its best use, not its worst, and I’m classified as “wrong.” I don’t want to “quick chat” and leave it at that. I’m not using a handful of stickers to substitute human interaction. If you want to talk about what is wrong, it’s trying to put my typically busy, heavy brain’s thoughts into less than three words from a very limited selection of phrases/faces.

What if what I need to say doesn’t fit those words? How does one say “You suck” or “Let’s do this, again, sometime” with a wink and a tongue? Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to see others repeatedly rubber-stamp the same tired words/symbols on my screen and be unable to convey what is going through my mind?…to have a microphone but be unable to adequately use it?…to see food or some other useful object and be unable to use it? That is evil.

You cannot reconnect with someone another day just by sending a “friend invite” and potentially adding them to a list, especially if that person/list doesn’t seem to grasp how to use it or speak my language. Right now, I have a few friend lists which might as well be coated in cobwebs because more than half of the people on those lists don’t seem to know how to communicate nor send invitations to play…nor respond to my invitations. A few might not be legitimate players, meaning they are some sort of spying or hacking weeds sitting in my interactive space. And, for some reason, I cannot remove them? How did they even get on my list?

I need to get to know my teammates, if they are worth knowing, and have the chance to establish solid friendships. Otherwise, I’d rather just go back to the old games that require someone to sit next to me when sharing a game. But, if I am limited to teammates I can see and touch, I’d rather curl up in a ball and die. I cannot adequately negotiate with the people around me to find adequate teammates, which is why I sadly turn to the internet and search for companions.

[Sigh.] There is a whole world out there, with some feeling much the same way…and we cannot make those good connections? Surely, there are success stories…or, as people like to fuss and say the internet is a liar, are the stories fake news? Is there no true happiness? Is the whole of the internet just one sly slot or claw machine that teases you with a prize you cannot get?

I get the concern for online security/privacy/safety, which only exposes our weaknesses, our need for interaction and our fear of being hurt and/or robbed. But, then, I wonder why we bother making and maintaining an internet, at all. Is it just one more scheme to get our money, time and energy?…to steal our souls?

Yet, so much is hinged upon the internet. If I want to see a doctor, I’m advised to get an online account with some app and link it to an email account, so I can receive all sorts of useful charts and sort out appointments. [Because using a printer or sharing a phone call is too much trouble? Isn’t that just putting more personal information online where anyone who can hack could tap into it?] If I’m going to go that far, why can’t I be phone or pen pals with the doctors (providers) I like and meet for lunch, sometime? Is that wrong?

If I want to get the instruction manual for some item I just purchased, it’s not in the box (anymore); but there is a tiny booklet that tells me, in seventeen languages, I can either scan a QR code or go directly to a listed website to find the information…maybe…if the link even works or the internet doesn’t glitch. Well, great. Maybe I will learn how to use this thing…or maybe I’ll wish I never shopped for anything.

Is it possible the internet was created to teach people a lesson about want?…to give them too much and eventually drive everyone who isn’t tech-smart away from it into the garden of the oblivious?

Is the internet any different from what happens when you apply for something offline only to get “third party” junk mail which agitates you to no end? Is the internet really any safer than your physical mailbox? You submit personal information like an address and/or phone number to get a chance to win or do something you want and get a bunch of stuff you don’t want which only adds to social conflict and landfills. You might even fill out a form for a legitimate and very personal need, like a doctor’s office, and some “third-party” business could get enough information to send you something you don’t want and sound like they know something you wish wasn’t public knowledge. So, instead of worrying about people you cannot see accessing your “personal data,” you’re bothered by countless businesses and jerks pestering you with a paper trail and sending you bills for things you didn’t buy.

Everything wants to be linked to an email account, which means you have to have some means of online/internet communication/interaction. You have to create an account to access something. And, those application portals don’t usually have opening and closing times. So…just about any time seems to be the right time to create an account.

But, it’s not the right time or place for me to speak or draw?

Whatever.

Am I wrong…here?

I’ve heard plenty of opinions from who may be “the wrong people.” But, what do you think, reader?

If you’re looking for me, I’ll just be standing over there. That’s me, in the corner, losing my…mind. [I can’t say I’m losing my religion because I’m still sorting out that bit.]

08
Nov
22

Response to World’s Greatest Aunt (Ask Carolyn Hax)

***

Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “Did world’s greatest aunt give up on love too soon?”

Happy? is a matured single woman who divorced once (20 years ago) and was denied the chance to have kids (genetically, I presume, though I am inclined to think anyone who appears “sterile” or otherwise incapable is a Mary who just hasn’t found her Joseph and messenger angel). After a few other disturbing relationships, which shattered her confidence and endangered her personal security, she became a content aunt, sister-in-law (somewhat forcefully) and working woman. She claims to be ninety-nine percent happy with her lifestyle and only bothered by the one pecked at by her so-called friends who want to pair her up with someone.

Carolyn, somewhat surprisingly, does a fine job of answering this letter. So fine that I have little to say about it. Yet, I feel, at least, one percent agitated by the question Happy? presents.

————-

Happy? If you are, indeed, content, and can list all of those assets, why do you have ANY doubts? Why does it seem like people who claim to have everything don’t? I suppose, if you were really content, you wouldn’t have to say anything; you’d just be…happy and living your life. When people spit out lists of badges and such, it seems they might be pulling out the emergency kit and throwing everything inside at a recent wound.

I cannot believe I am saying this…but Carolyn is right when she says, “What kind of friend corrects her?” A good friend shouldn’t vote against you; they should vote with you and support your decisions. BUT…if that good friend knew or sensed something that cannot adequately be conveyed in a letter to an advice columnist, who you wouldn’t need, at all, if you were truly 99% confident in your happiness…right?…then that friend SHOULD be free to say something about what is somewhat secretly upsetting you. If that good friend senses you are putting up a good defense yet suffering quietly when you finally take off your social disguise…is that so wrong?

A good friend isn’t always going to agree with everything you say or do; not when they have experience or higher wisdom to know you are in denial or need something you’re not addressing/getting yourself. A good friend shouldn’t put you in any range of harm or danger nor come to blows over any disagreement; nor should they ever say anything that makes light of what you take very seriously (as if they think you’re a fool). But, if they try to nudge you out of your comfort zone with good intentions, that’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes, a good friend knows you better than you care to admit (yourself). [However, personally, I draw a line at “let me hook you up with someone I know.” That just hits a nerve. Bad family history.]

I’ll nod in agreement when Carolyn shuns the “blind-date vending machine.” Set-ups have personally troubled me since I learned how my parents met. Suffice to say, that has given me fear similar to the sort you seem to be projecting. And, yes, you may be suffering from bad-relationship trauma. You’ve had some rough luck with men, the sort of luck that would turn some women into lesbians or bisexual experiments.

The way you describe being close to your brother and his wife’s family…concerns me. No in-laws that I know enjoy a sibling that much. I, myself, have been a source of resentment to one branch and agitated by another (which keeps me at a distance in more ways than one and weakens my sibling relationships). My brother has injected agitation into the lives of some “friends” who are married, one who recently had to divorce and relocate. [I seriously suspect my brother was key to that divorce, the friend getting in the way of an otherwise busy couple/marriage (with kids).] When a sibling/friend spends enough time within the tender environment of a couple, it seems to stir negative feelings. The sibling/friend is no longer a welcome guest paying a rare visit; they are a growing distraction and unwanted audience to what may be a marital spat or other relationship challenge. A couple doesn’t want or need an outside party taking their emotional upheaval with them (or to other parties not involved, in the form of gossip).

You also state that “zero tolerance” with conviction, which, to me, suggests you are DEEPLY troubled (and, sort of, in denial…yet on the brink of confessing something). You wouldn’t have to confirm zero tolerance if you were zero tolerant. You see what I’m saying? I claim to be zero tolerant about certain matters, and, when I do, I feel just the slightest bit concerned I’ve only alerted the “gremlins” to come pick on me, again, because I am admitting my fear. I could, instead, say nothing and keep the concern completely (zero) out of conversation. Let the violator cross the line before you tell them to hush.

You taking relationships “off the table” to work on yourself…which became a lifestyle…is like me going back to school to get a degree. I put it off for a reason, or reasons…and, to turn back and face that old worrisome decision, again, seems like a huge stomach upset neither of us want to face…but something is telling us we should or need to face it.

I still cannot see myself confronting another year of school work, especially at a college level. And, I have those old reasons…and I have a strong desire/demand (my own “tolerance”) for a better support system, if I ever dared to try. Without that comfort zone and support, I would just be prone to some old demons who ruined my school years…and, possibly, my whole life.

Likewise, you know what went bad before and have intense fear of facing the risks, one more time. Why take that gamble? Why does everyone afraid of haunted houses have to go through one? If you don’t like burning your tongue until you’ve gone numb, why punish yourself with spicy foods (just because “everyone else” is okay with experimenting)?

For you, it’s not as simple as your “friends” wish to make it. Maybe they are the casual dating, bar-fly type who seem like fun pillows to keep around you but aren’t exactly the best counselors or supporters, even if you swear they are the best of friends. They may make getting out of your “sanctuary” less daunting, allowing you to loosen up and do things you’d likely never try alone…but they’re not so in sync with your “tolerance” that they also make you entirely comfortable in your solitude. [I’m just being honest without more information on who these people are.]

Brushing all of the above aside, you ultimately decide for yourself when and if you are ready and willing to start another (romantic) relationship, not your friends, not your brother, not your brother’s wife’s family, not your potentially curious nephews or nieces who may ask why you’re not married like their parents. You.

But…if you are having even the slightest doubts or concerns about remaining single and somewhat solitary…..

HUG

You’ll get through this. You’ll get over it and go back to your habits, good or bad. “When the time is right,” you’ll hopefully NOT pass up a good thing. And, even if you do, hopefully, you’ll get another chance. But, when YOU are ready (and when the Fates allow, just like motherhood).

Oh. AAAnd, one more thing. Even if you were “lying to yourself,” you’re human. But…shouldn’t you have more faith in those “good friends” than an advice columnist you’ve never met? THAT is the clincher. If they were so good to you, why would anyone need the input of an advice columnist? [Have you no faith in your friends?]

Have a nice day.

04
Apr
22

Response to Must Dad call new wife ‘the love of his life’…; from Ask Carolyn (Hax)

***

Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “Must dad call new wife ‘the love of his life’ around his kids?”

There are two letters to this particular column. The second ends with a line that triggers my pet peeve with this advice columnist.

Resentful is the non-gender-specific offspring of a deceased mother and a father who, after four years of solitude, has paired up with another woman, a woman he chooses to regularly call “the love of my life.” Resentful, upon hearing those words, including in the presence of children (possibly their own, possibly nieces/nephews, possibly both), becomes angry and hurt because those words were once the rightful description of their birth mother (and the grandmother of the children present). Resentful seeks a way to convey the anger to their father who persists in questioning why Resentful has reduced time spent with him. In other words, it’s a tense situation that won’t improve without some form of peaceful negotiation.

Carolyn essentially advises Resentful to speak up rather than silently withdraw, bottle the anger and leave Dad wondering until his heart permanently breaks from the disconnect. Carolyn also states that feelings from both sides may not be entirely as they appear in the column/letter. The father might still value Resentful’s birth mother but politely use the phrase to honor his new flame as the next phase in his on-going life. And, Resentful is choosing, in a way, to let the circumstances upset him/her, rather than simply accepting the choice made by their father.

Raising a Teen is a frustrated single? mother who has a tense relationship with her 17-year-old son and a number of fellow-parent “friends” who politely try to sympathize though their own kids are younger. Raising, somewhat like a teenager, feels the other parents (friends) just cannot understand all that goes through her head upon dealing with her own near-adult son. Memories of her ex, the boy’s father, who retains a bitter relationship with his own mother, trouble her. She wants to scream.

Carolyn somewhat subtly tells Raising to curb her anger and reconsider the advice and/or support of those other parents, even if they don’t have the exact same circumstances. And, if that’s not sufficient, if Raising still cannot calm down (possibly because some emotional responses are just too much for some people, possibly including Raising’s “friends”), she should seek professional help (therapy, I am guessing). [Can I scream, now?]

——————–

Resentful,

What Carolyn (and I just) said. The quick and easy answer is to bite the bullet and put your feelings on the table, ideally getting an honest confession from your father (not pressuring him to change his choice of words just to please you).

Right now, your anger/resentment is so vivid and fierce, like a raging fire; you cannot handle peaceful negotiation. So, I’d suggest taking some kind of trip/vacation on which you can process your feelings and digest our words/advice. It doesn’t have to be a long trip; just a day or two…probably two.

You need to calmly speak with your father to clarify his truest feelings. This could be challenging, considering he may be reluctant to say his feelings for your deceased mother are as strong as those he has for the new woman, for fear of upsetting that new woman…which is fair to say. And, if you cannot control your own fiery feelings, you might spoil the opportunity to assess the situation (which is why, I suppose, you reached out for advice).

How can someone new ever be a fully honored and accepted part of his life if he must constantly replay/relive emotional matters of his past? Would you expect him to say he loves two women, one deceased and one living, equally at every family gathering? Would you expect him to set a place at the dining table for the deceased and his new love interest?

I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn’t see things from your side, as well. I have similar resentment for things my family chooses to do which trigger some unpleasant historical thoughts/feelings. Imagine being a rape victim and having your family party with evidence from that painful experience at the scene of the crime while they talk casually about the culprit. [No, I have not been raped…at least, not in the dictionary-definition sense. I’d say I’ve been sort of spiritually and mentally raped (or deeply offended and rattled by people I was told to trust). I just use that as a sort of metaphor/example of what’s still troubling me.]

You don’t like what your father is doing/saying. You don’t want to hear it. The healthier response would be to take the previous advice and defuse the bomb in your chest; if your father can convince you he still values your mother, even if he uses those particular words to address/introduce the new phase of his remaining lifetime, you have nothing to resent. This situation isn’t exactly a drug-abuse intervention, so you cannot pressure him to quit for his own health. Yet, the second-hand smoke–so to speak–is upsetting yours (your mental/emotional health). If he cannot see how the words upset you, that’s just as unkind of him if he doesn’t step forward to address the situation. “Honey/Son? Is what I am saying bothering you? Why? Let’s talk about it.”

Your choice to withdraw and spend less time with your dad isn’t too unreasonable. It gives you some control over the situation, unlike being the child who gets imprisoned if he/she turns against his/her parent(s) in some emotional conflict. You are not required to go along for the ride you have no interest in taking. You can step away/stay at your own home.

But, not resolving this matter only causes the resentment to fester in the wound. Your relationship with Dad won’t improve by biting your angry tongue and avoiding him. Once or twice, it might feel good to have that control. But, year after year, it’s sure to eat you alive…until he dies. And then, what will you do/feel? Will you let him go to his grave without a kind word…because he lived the (second) portion of his committed love life in a way that upset you? [I’m asking myself similar questions as I sort out what I will need to do when my (disappointing, to say the least) parents pass away.]

Carolyn commonly advises people to seek professional therapy. But, she did not in this case. Strangely enough, I am wondering if something similar wouldn’t benefit your situation. If you could arrange a talk with your father and some sort of mediator with no emotional ties to the situation, someone who you’d trust to serve as judge/counselor, you might stand a better chance at sorting out the details and putting your anger to rest.

——————–

Raising a Teen,

In your current state of mind, I doubt me saying “I feel your pain” would suffice, considering I am not a parent of a 17-year-old boy or any children, for that matter. But, I know that desire to scream when those we seek for sympathy and advice (though we are slow/reluctant to accept and/or follow it) don’t satisfy our desires for one reason and/or another. You are the sort who starts sentences with “Until you have…” and clenches her fists (and teeth) when someone who isn’t your twin says anything that doesn’t agree with your comfort zone. Differences in circumstances, for you (and, often enough, myself), are like pollen and dust to someone (like me) with seasonal allergies. And, I might be just a tad like your ex, considering the tense relationship I have with my own parents, both of them.

I’ve consulted people I’d like to call friends for advice and sympathy in matters troubling me; and, often enough, their responses lack something to satisfy my desires. This tends to anger me. And, when I contact these “friends,” they often claim I sound angry. I get worked up about certain matters…about a lot of things…more than the people I contact, it seems, ever do. They don’t seem as 3-D as I feel; they are more like cartoon/movie characters written to respond a certain way than people who can adequately relate to and help with my situation. In short, I’m “too much” for most people. And, once this is conveyed by the person I contact, contact is abruptly ended…not usually by my choice but by the other person. And, that only makes me want to cry and scream even more. What does one who is “too much” for so many do with that volcano of feelings?

The easy answer for many is to say, “You need to seek professional help.” And, to that, I respond GET LOST! Tell me how many people have come to you for sympathy/support or just someone to keep them company. And, how often did you tell them their problems/requests are too much for you? Did you tell them to get professional help for reasons other than resolving a mechanical problem (like fixing a leaky pipe or replacing a faulty appliance/computer)?

Gosh. “Professional help” must certainly be rich with all that business being thrown their way. It makes me wonder why there aren’t as many commercials for crisis assistance services and psychiatrists as there are for lawyers just waiting for someone to have a terrible vehicular accident or intake a hazardous drug/chemical; I suppose it’s because few if any are being told to go have a near-fatal vehicular accident or ingest a hazardous substance.

Tell me why a professional stranger, who has no prior experience with you upon which to base their assessments, who requires payment for every minute of their time (which sounds a bit like prostitution), is better than someone you sort of or sufficiently know taking the time to help you through your difficult time/situation. Isn’t the latter the definition of a good friend? Instead, you are supposed to lay out every important detail about what has been going on in your life (and omit what isn’t important, while swamped in emotional baggage), tell it all to someone new who can only give you an hour of their time maybe once a week if not once every other week, and expect them to have more sympathy than the people you call friends. That sounds…insane.

I cannot even discuss my health concerns and prior experiences, at full length, with my “primary care provider” before my “session” has expired. At best, I imagine a professional could steer you toward some other form of assistance, like a family/group therapy program or recreational activity you might (enjoy) with your son, provided he would participate with you in that activity. And, I suppose, that’s slightly better than telling you to get help elsewhere.

Wait; did I just give professional advice without a license? Hmm.

But, a therapist cannot remain professional and still be a good friend (as previously defined)…can they? They only have so much time and many others who need their help…because so many, who cannot handle helping other people, are providing these therapists with an ample supply of clients. A professional cannot be that person you call in the middle of the night when something’s bothering you (or even at a more reasonable hour, if you could be that respectful). I really wish I had such a friend, right now. But, I don’t. And, I’m guessing, you don’t have one, either.

I may have a difficult time processing some emotionally/mentally “heavy” situations. I may also not be the best source of advice/counsel, considering I can be harshly honest (or blunt) without intent to upset/hurt anyone. I don’t take pleasure in upsetting people, but it happens…often. If I don’t say something miraculously inspirational, usually making good use of a metaphor, I say something that disturbs the other person(s). I don’t smile in response, like some wicked people I’ve known do. I’m…sorry I upset someone. Yet, saying I am sorry won’t resolve the situation I just caused.

I like to think I take on more emotional conflicts than most people would; I like to think I am a decent counselor/therapist. I like helping people when and where I can, even going above and beyond what comes easy to most. But, considering I am dealing with a ton of my own mental/emotional baggage on a fairly regular basis, it’s not as if I can address the problems of another person with a clear slate/state of mind. A professional tends to limit their time to an hour with each client. I’m inclined to spend more than that with each person (being someone who is not a man of few words); which is one reason I would not be the most/best professional helper.

Now that I’ve sufficiently gone off-track with self-therapy, let’s get back to your situation. Hopefully, what I’ve just said will ease the tension in your shoulders a bit and you will agree we have similar feelings/experiences.

You and your son currently do not get along (well). You neglect to give any specific reasons/examples of those conflicts. And, your ex’s relationship with his mother troubles you.

Is that because you fear the son will take after his father? Is it possible your troubling son has already said something about his father to fuel his clashes with you? Is that so unreasonable?…for a son of divided parents to sort of side with the one he favors? Is that so abnormal that others–even those who don’t have the exact same circumstances–cannot relate/sympathize in some way? Divorce isn’t new or taboo. Separated parents are not new, either.

Considering you call the other parents (you mentioned) friends, I have to question/wonder how they earned that title. They don’t satisfy your needs. And, I’m betting you don’t do enough to please them, even if you feel you do plenty. It’s possible they don’t adequately appreciate and respect your output. You clearly don’t appreciate their output. So…how are they friends?

I’m inclined to think too many call undeserving people “friends” just to feel as if they are not entirely isolated in this world. I know I’d feel like a basket case if I couldn’t say I considered at least one person a friend…of some sort. I will come right out, right now, and admit I do not currently have a single close friend. There is no one I can trust with the depths of my soul, and that is quite discouraging. But, I do have what I’d consider very shallow, somewhat superficial, flimsy, fair-weather contacts, people I can reach by phone and/or email. And, yes, some of those contacts make me want to scream, now and then…especially if anyone stops “trying,” says I’m “too much” and/or tells me to get professional help.

If your “friends” are cardboard cutouts merely filling the places of people you’d prefer to have in your life, the desire to scream certainly makes sense. Imagine waking up to a world inhabited by only cardboard people (and yourself). That sounds awful.

I have no advice for how to improve your friendships other than to look elsewhere (for better friends). I’d take the advice I’ve been given about joining a club or exercise class at which you might meet people with similar interests and–ideally–outlooks. But, I have yet to follow that, myself, for whatever reason I am reluctant to confront.

You could listen to Carolyn–if I correctly understood her words–and take what you get from your “friends” without throwing it back in their faces. Accept the fact they don’t have the exact same situation yet offer what they can/will in response; and, if that’t not good enough, consult someone else…which you did by reaching out to an advice columnist. And, like those professionals we’re being told to find, she only has so much time and space to satisfy your needs…not enough to fill an hour of your day.

Similarly, you could alter your way of thinking about the problem by avoiding and/or derailing thoughts about the ex who doesn’t get along with his mother. Do all that you can to silence those voices in your head that say, “Like father, like son.” Avoid any movies and/or TV shows that use those words and tell stories of sons acting out the way their fathers once did. Your son is an individual, even if he is part you and part ex. He can be his own special person, if you treat him that way. But, if you feed him the same fertilizer and water you gave your ex, he will probably resemble that ex.

Is there any reason your son SHOULD feel/act the way your ex does/has? Are you, in any way, responsible for your son’s behavior? Can you admit that much? [And, if you can, that would have been helpful information to include in your letter…as well as the first step to resolving the conflict.] Taking responsibility for one’s part in a conflict is far better than accepting zero blame and simply expecting your son to change. Expressing awareness of how you may have upset the relationship (even if you cannot find any intent on your part) you have with your son could compel him to express similar feelings and bridge the gap.

What more can I/we say? Plenty, I suppose, if we spared the time and effort. But, I don’t have a concise, concrete, fool-proof solution. Who does? I don’t know.

28
Mar
22

Response to Wife Says It’s Not Her Fault; Ask Carolyn (Hax)

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Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “Wife says it’s not her fault she hurts husband’s feelings.”

There are two letters to this particular column.  The first, signed by “A,” involves a marriage in which the husband feels sufficiently emotionally bruised and “shut down” by a seemingly unfeeling, “harsh communicator,” his wife.

Carolyn chooses to “explain” her opinions in a somewhat confusing way. She agrees with the wife while still trying to stand up for the husband without anything to support her claim. Her choice of words, at one or two points, could drastically alter what comes next in the tense relationship. Her final thought is to mention a relief/therapeutic phone service called RAINN, which I do not know (but will potentially investigate).

The second, from It’s Not You, It’s Me, entails a friendship that has soured as one friend changed into a person the other friend used to feel like and grew to dislike. Key note: The friend seeking advice has been through some measure of psychotherapy; so their views and choices might already have been colored/altered by that experience.

Carolyn presumes a bit about the letter’s author; which makes me wonder if she isn’t drifting off into thoughts of her own failing friendships. Yet, I will admit, the final thoughts are rough…bound to stir some conflicts…but fair. Essentially, the friends are advised to talk out their differences and accept the consequences, whether that means salvaging the friendship or permanently breaking the bond.

——————-

A. Ay oh. Oh, A. Is your wife what you’d describe as blunt? Is she a Sagittarius, by any chance? She can’t be a Gemini if she’s lacking a sense of humor or a flair for the dramatic. ‘Just curious. She sounds like a proud Amazon warrior who has little to no tolerance for weakness in battle; someone looking to challenge you in hopes of finding a man worthy of her mighty passion. [And, you seem like the unwilling hunter sent to slay a dragon, cowering in your boots as you limply hold your sword; no offense intended.]

Take Carolyn’s advice without the grain of salt and spare your blood pressure. Stop where she tells you to decide what is next for YOUR marriage. It’s not YOUR marriage to decide. Yes, as your wife so crudely puts it, you decide how to respond to everything she throws at you. You don’t have to express distress or sadness or resentment or any form of hurt feelings, even if that’s the strong impulse you feel. But, not expressing what we feel is a rather cold, calculating move; and what do we know about two wrongs? They don’t make it right. Right?

But, go back to that marriage bit. The marriage is a decision made by two people, her and you. You don’t decide what’s next for YOUR marriage. You decide what’s next for YOUR PART in that marriage; and she will decide what is next for her. Yet, just talking this way sounds like divorce is already on the table. Is it really that bad? Or, is this just surface tension that’s become a bad habit?

Carolyn also cannot validate you. At least, she cannot HAPPILY do it unless she is merely voicing the simplest of support for a remotely appealing underdog. I’ll admit I’ve likely done the same with female writers who light a tiny flame of interest in my heart with their words. Perhaps, you are remotely Carolyn’s type. But, from my perspective, her validation is an empty lawyer commercial; a forced smile and general offer.

Sure, we all need to validate ourselves. But, that validation often sparks conflict we don’t want or need. So, many of us are reluctant to “validate.” We don’t want to make waves; nor do we want to stand up on some soapbox, yelling about how our ideas should matter to someone without more concrete evidence to support our claims. And, when it’s just you versus your wife, and few know the whole story between you two, who can applaud or support your validation? No one.

Your validation falters because you know it could shatter the relationship, something you committed yourself to, something you helped establish. How many business partners would bring down their own HQ building when the partnership sours? How many more would let the building stand and look for some less public legal/financial settlement before slithering away to form other business relationships (and try to forget the past)?

I guess the only true value you can take from this effort to reach for advice is the importance of not letting anyone grind you into dust. You stand up to your wife, your chosen partner, and defend whatever you feel is vital to you as well as the relationship. And, hopefully, the relationship is a loving one. Because, if it’s strictly business, if you feel more like an employee being confronted by a hostile boss, then you are in the wrong marriage. It’s not even a marriage. It’s a harsh “prenup.”

Also, you could grease the wheels a bit by asking your wife how she feels, now and then. Get her to be a little vulnerable (with you). And, ideally, you comfort her in those emotional moments, reassure her with your support so these cold, stone-wall situations don’t even arise. If she refuses to be vulnerable with you–or if you cannot handle the role of emotional supporter–you two have more problems than those conveyed in the letter.

And, if she responds with something like, “This isn’t about my feelings,” consider finding a new wife. I wouldn’t want to be married to someone who shuts down all emotional exchanges in favor of winning an argument. That sort of woman is too fierce and bent on claiming victory, determined to turn her partner into a lap dog and yes man.

——————-

It’s Not You? How do I address someone who isn’t the scribe but IS the scribe? I don’t know.

YOU! How about that?

Your time in therapy has altered you in some way. Your perspective has changed enough to let you see a friend as someone you no longer want to be. You’ve been given some sort of supernatural ability to slow time down and spin around your friend like a ghost, allowing you to see a sort of old, familiar toxin spewing from her mouth, like a former smoker watching someone suck on a cigarette and feeling the urge to vomit.

Your reluctance to speak up with this friend (and your need to consult an advice columnist after that extensive therapy you endured) suggests a weak spot in your therapy-honed defenses. You cast off your caterpillar ways to become a butterfly, but you’re still showing a soft, rubbery patch of skin somewhere which would fracture your whole being if you dared to face this situation face-to-face and be verbally honest. Thus, you’re not “cured” enough to ignore the old energy you once felt…still feel. It’s not like you’d ever go back to being…that way. Right? Yet, being around others who are…like that…still/now bothers you. [And, it certainly doesn’t help to encounter anyone who would dare tease you about your reluctance to do/experience/share something you no longer like/approve. Yet, I’ve been there too often; ‘done that. I’ve been pushed, prodded and heckled about things I refuse to relive and/or face again.] Therapy altered you, but it didn’t turn you into a Jedi master or the strongest Vulcan who can avoid all emotional conflicts.

Carolyn is right when she suggests dealing with the unpleasant matters in their moments, versus reducing all of your feelings to one general “I don’t like you, anymore.” That isolated statement is like hanging up the phone or ending email communication without further explanation. It’s like never hearing from someone, again, being left to wonder what went wrong. Except, you sort of said it; you said you don’t like her as she now exists. I suppose even the short, finalizing statement could serve its purpose with less emotional upheaval in person.

Thank you for your candor? It takes a truly solid, mature, enduring person to say something like that. I don’t know many who would confidently say they appreciate my candor. In small doses, some have expressed an appreciation for my honesty, when it serves a need that doesn’t touch an emotional nerve, when the candor doesn’t stir tears or anger. I can be honest about a piece of furniture I don’t like. But, if I am honest about how I view another person’s relationship with another person, I usually cross a line; it’s like pulling a shoelace on someone’s shoe, causing them to stumble. Who wants that?

Carolyn surprises me when she speaks in favor of salvaging the friendship…while you seem intent on ending it. YOU said the friend has become “unbearable.” This letter isn’t about a friend calling you that word. It’s your word about her. SHE is unbearable. [But, it’s sort of true…if you haven’t waited too long to speak up, I suppose, all could be salvaged; the friendship just might, ideally, recover from the emotional upheaval and adapt. I just doubt the possibility, based upon past experience and hearing so many negative cases.]

Sort of going with the flow Carolyn generated with her response to the previous letter, it’s your move to validate your feelings in this situation; let your friend know you are tired of the way she is acting because it’s how you used to feel/behave before facing therapy. And, she needs to validate/respect the process you have gone through, like a friend of a former addict needs to either avoid supplying temptation (by indulging in and/or providing the substance that was the source of the addiction) or end the friendship to continue indulging on their own. If she chooses to and favors being the old you, she may have to do that without you. Are you okay with that? If so, what’s so hard about saying the words?

But, if putting words on the table, in person, is too obvious and harsh for a solution, let’s think about alternatives…..

You could silently stay away from your “former” friend, letting her realize you no longer want to be with her for some reason (without clarifying the reason). Well, on a minor positive note, this would put you on a sort of high ground, letting her come (up) to you and ask what’s keeping you from spending more time with her. You’d still have to engage her with words, eventually, unless you are content to just let the friendship fall into silent bitterness and resentment.

You could put your feelings in a letter and snail- or e-mail that to her. The advantage with that option is you having, hopefully, more time to polish your thoughts and words than you had in writing a mere nine-line letter or “tweet” to Carolyn Hax. Letter-writing can be like turning a close relationship into a long-distance one. Sometimes distance is good; separation can be good. For Catholics, (currently) Lent is a time intended to go without something for forty days, hoping to reunite with that something and feel renewed appreciation/enjoyment after the separation. Sometimes, distance just drains the connection until writing a letter seems like too much work (compared with being able to show up at someone’s door, simply asking for a hug and a teary-eyed chat).

You could invite said friend on one last trial friend-date. And, if on that date said friend decides to be a complete drag and representative of the former you (the you you no longer approve), you can let her know this is the last time you two get to try something fun together…and why. It’s not quite the direct confrontation of the situation…but it eventually gets there, after a bit of emotional therapy and a subtle attempt to reconcile differences. If your friend cannot still prove she is a friend during that fun time together, you have valid proof why you need to end the friendship and not linger after the “breakup” with dismay. The friendship has changed. Be okay with the difference and the opportunity to make new friends who fit the new you. And, be okay with letting the former friend know she is free to spend her time with people who fit the present her, the former you

Give me enough time, and I could probably think of a few more. But, I think the above should suffice.

On the flip side, things you DO NOT want to do with this friend include continuing to spend time with her when she’s behaving in the way(s) that upset(s) you and timidly avoiding all vocalization of your discontent. Letting the problem fester is not the solution; it will only make you feel worse and the task of resolving the matter increasingly difficult…until the task is even more unbearable than your friend.

Dismissed.

14
Jun
21

Happy Birthday, Emily Graslie!

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Today is June 14th and Emily Graslie’s birthday!

Who? Emily Graslie, a very nerdy, fairly charming, occasionally comical and perpetually easy-going gal; a big kid with long blonde-ish hair, blue eyes masked by big eyeglasses and an odd need to wear big dangling jewelry in some of the most rough outdoor places; a Gemini Earth Snake, essentially a desert dust tornado, who hosts the PBS show called Prehistoric Road Trip (among other projects).

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I don’t know much about her, yet. But, she seems to be more of a paleontology/archaeology/geology enthusiast than an expert; she just likes talking with people about scientific matters and has an aura about her which screams, “She and Writingbolt would make great travel buddies!” She makes me unafraid of being completely at ease with myself. I may be wrong, but I feel like I could burp, fart or even pick my nose around her, and she’d just take it in stride. She reminds me of Laura Dern’s character from Jurassic Park, who was at ease digging through dinosaur poop. [Yet, underneath that goofy, smiling, earthy façade are some sensitive waters which could get a lil moody and leave victims in pain from her snake bite.]

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That about sums it up. I only had to watch a few episodes (of Prehistoric Road Trip) to feel sufficiently comfortable in her company. And, as the comforting feeling grew, along with a remote attraction, I felt compelled to create this birthday post.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EMILY!

You subtle charmer, you. Drop a letter in my mailbox, please. I wish to speak with you…and then some.

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06
Apr
20

Online Bonding; Don’t Get Your Hopes Up

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So, after dipping my toes into some online gaming over the past year, I think I’ve finally broken the last straw on whatever supports my belief in finding lasting friendships online.  Online gaming isn’t exactly the most favorable place to secure a friend.  But, I believe anything is possible.  That is…I did.  And, now, I’m fairly certain (never quite set in stone) my high hopes will never come true.  I’ve done the chat-room thing.  I’ve worked emails better than anyone I know.  I’ve blogged and interacted with fellow bloggers, clearly.  But, it’s all wishful thinking on my part…to think any real bond could be made and carried over to the world outside the computer.

I am tired of losing touch with people into who I invest my time, talent and heart.  I cannot continue befriending people just to have them vanish without a trace…and, in this recent case, leaving no trace of what we shared.  It’s as if all I said and did was a dream.  And, when I forget a fairly good dream, that sucks.  [Which is why I recommend keeping a dream journal and jotting them down as soon as you wake.]

So, I think, from this day forward, any contact I have with people online will be with lowered expectations/hopes.  I just cannot tolerate this uncertainty and loss much longer.




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