Posts Tagged ‘stupid

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.

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.

========

(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.

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(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.]

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(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.

20
Dec
21

Cynicism Alert: The Theory of Everything

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You know, Albert Einstein lost his life pursuing the theory of everything. How foolish was that?

Well, to make it up to him, I think I am onto something.

Here is MY cynical outlook/summation of what seems to be the human existence/universe.

It’s pretty swag in a dumb, F’d-up bag.

Or, in mathematical terms: Swag to the power of pretty equals F’d-up everything.

If you look closely enough at what you are bombarded with on a regular basis, it’s often put in a rather colorful, occasionally appealing package. Yet, so much of what we experience in this life ends up being really, really senseless…just plain stupid.

And, it just takes a fairly simple yet elaborately illustrated computer/video game to make it all come into focus. You can try my current axe-of-stupidity-to-grind, Rocket League or one of the many matching/searching games made by a company known as G5. Give one of those a few hours of your time and energy, and maybe you will have the same epiphany I have.

If only Albert Einstein could have done the same.

Well, Al, problem solved. Rest in peace.

12
Jan
15

Profound Thoughts: I Choose Neither

And now, it’s time for more Profound Thoughts with Writingbolt…

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If my only options are “reckless and stupid” or “suicidal,” I choose neither…

…You know, til I feel reckless and stupid on the verge of suicidal.

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28
Sep
13

I Just Can’t Get “Stupid”

Watching people do foolish things in the same movie I’ve seen almost a half-dozen times now, I am struck with a notion about my own life and the world around me. I think of countless lives going through the same paces: lame conversations, political and religious squabbles, lousy excuses for entertaining oneself with what’s considered popular or current entertainment, pathetic pick-up lines, drunken mishaps, online dating, blind dates, arranged dates, hours upon hours of casual sex, friends with benefits, one night stands, more lame conversations injected with comparisons of body parts and intimate activities taken way too leisurely (instead of seriously), drug use and abuse, dares and contests demanding impressive results, mistaken tattoos and painful piercings, bad relationships ended in all sorts of unpleasant ways, divorce, abortion, multiple marriages, single parenthood, forsaking one’s religion/faith from any number of the previous weighing too heavily on the conscience and essentially declaring oneself a lazy “spiritual” person or atheist, alimony, child support, “pre-nups”, “post-nups”, jobs that don’t pay emotionally and financially, unpredictable insurance and retirement plans, etc. etc.

All of the above are things “most” people do as part of “the norm”. Not one of them can I commit so casually without a heap of discomfort amassing in my gut. And, upon once more realizing this boundary that separates me from “most” people, I am–yet again–discouraged from “entering the game”.

If someone explained the rules of chess to you, and you decided they were too complicated; how would you feel if everyone you saw around you was suddenly playing that very game? Imagine being the only deaf or blind person in your city, state or country, not knowing how to convey the full nature of your life experience to another living soul without fear of misunderstanding, isolation/segregation or something far worse.

How many cases in history were resolved horribly or violently/lethally from misunderstanding? Do I really want to be one of those cases simply because I don’t “go with the flow”? Can you begin to–if not already–understand how difficult it can be to wake up every day with little to no interest in doing any of those things previously listed while the rest of the world around me expects me to do just that if I want to “belong”?

I imagine myself driving a stick-shift car and not being able to downshift to that lower gear everyone else on the road around me uses to “get by”. I see them all pass me by either hastily or leisurely. And, there I sit in the middle of traffic, being honked at and unable to get my vehicle moving. I am a heartbeat away from a horrible accident. And, it has me on edge to the Nth degree. If I lose another minute, I could be dead. I need to get myself in gear and merge with traffic. Wait. I just need another–

I’m more content being of service to people as I find them and utilizing my creativity to its fullest. But, presently, that’s not filling in all the necessary boxes of a “normal” life. It’s not “financially sound” or “relationship savvy”. And, that worries me.

If you see someone stuck on the side of the road with his “blinkers” on, it’s probably me, not going anywhere. I just can’t get “stupid”.

 

[Disclaimer:  I use the word “stupid” as a substitute for mistaken and/or erroneous.  No one wants to be called stupid.  But, we all should know when we’ve made a mistake. And, I am a stubborn perfectionist.]




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