Aug 29

An imaginary conversation about imaginary football boyfriends

You know what?

No.

Do you want to?

Sure.

You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it!

Maybe I will warm up as the conversation progresses.

No pressure.

None.

OK.

So are you going to tell me?

What?

The thing you were starting to say.

Right. What was it?

Uh…

It’s not like it was a show stopper.

OK.

I was just wondering about something.

Should I be worried?

About what I might say? Always.

About whatever particular thing is on your beautiful mind right this minute?

You don’t ever worry about anything.

I try not to.

It kind of pisses me off. It would be more flattering if you worried sometimes.

Noted.

Creep.

Sorry.

That you’re a creep?

Do you really think I am a creep?

Are you worried about it?

Sigh.

What?

You are a very odd woman.

Thanks.

See? Most people don’t think that’s a compliment.

You didn’t mean it in a nice way? You sounded sort of admiring and impressed.

Right. Impressed. Exactly. I do like almost everything about you…

What don’t you like?

Never mind that. You had something to say which I am sure was very important.

Way to deflect!

How ’bout those Ducks!?

Oh! That’s what I was going to tell you!

What?

Devon Allen knows how to wiggle his ears.

The wide receiver?

Uh huh. He’s adorable, fast, can jump hurdles, catch a football AND wiggle his ears. He is definitely in the running to be my imaginary football boyfriend this year.

Good to know.

Well, since I don’t have a real boyfriend, I might be spending more time than usual on the selection.

I didn’t realize this was something that was important to you.

It is.

What does the position entail?

For the imaginary boyfriend?

Yeah.

Nothing. I might wear a jersey with his number on it. Mostly I cheer for them and refer to them as my imaginary football boyfriend at tailgaters.

I see. You don’t meet them and have a secret handshake or anything.

No, I wish! That would be cool. It’s all currently strictly imaginary.

Who else is in the running?

Chance Allen. I might pick both of the Allens.

Who else?

The other option is the offensive line.

All of them?

They never get any love, and I like Mooses as much as anyone.

When will you decide?

I need to decide before the first game!

Well. Get some rest. You don’t want to make such an important decision of you aren’t well rested.

Thanks for understanding.

You’re welcome.

Why are you shaking your head?

Go Ducks!

Aug 28

Wishing, hoping, not praying

I’m high but I’m grounded
I’m sane but I’m overwhelmed
I’m lost but I’m hopeful, baby
And what it all comes down to
Is that everything’s gonna be fine, fine, fine
–Alanis Morissette/One Hand In My Pocket

The age old question: can you influence how things turn out?

It seems so fucking obvious that you can. I mean, if I want tomato plants and I don’t plant them or buy them, I am very unlikely to have them. Unless…
If I believe in a deity, and it’s in her ineffable plan, she will provide them. Someone will just stop by with them, or a friend will have extras.

But.

Well.

That’s asinine. I mean, I hate to disrespect anyone’s beliefs, but pre-determinism just. Ugh. It’s dumb. (Wow. Well stated.)

Doesn’t it make you wonder?

The whole idea of predetermination just kind of rankles, right? You can do what ever harebrained or cruel thing you want, because everything will turn out the way it is supposed to. Free will? Bah, humbug.

It is the one thing that sort of makes me wish I believed in a heavenly referee handing out penalties. I mean, having a rule book would come in really handy.

Still, I do wonder.

It would really take the stress out of absolutely everything if that is what you believed. I think I will go on believing in muddling through as best as I can while trying not to be too much of a douche.

Love the people who deserve it, forgive the ones who don’t and maybe still love them anyway. They are probably just muddling through, too. Maybe eventually they’ll get the message about not being douches.

Tell the people you love how you feel, including the creeps. I suspect it pisses them off.

The only thing I am really sure of? Everything will be fine, fine, fine.

And I will die at some point.
Not just me. You, too.

And for some reason, those Facebook quizzes never suggest philosophy as a career for me. Weird.

Aug 27

Promises and lies

“Will you come again?” she asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then I will,” he said, turning to leave; and he did not know if either or both of them were lying.
–Helene Wecker/The Golum and the Jinni

I hate to lie. I feel guilty about it. I hate to keep track of it. Nothing about it feels good. It makes me wonder if people who tell lies do it unconsciously, because I can’t imagine doing something on purpose that would make me feel awful and and also possibly hurt someone.

Or possibly those people are just douche canoes who don’t even have enough of a soul to care if they are lying. Which I can’t understand, but hey–I don’t understand how anyone can like Country music either, and I have heard a lot of people do.

Of course, what’s tricky is that sometimes you twist the truth without meaning to lie, exactly. Maybe you act less interested in someone than you really are because you think they are not very interested in you? That is a common one. But the hitch is obvious. What if they are acting cool because you are? It’s the vicious circle of feigned disinterest. Someone has to be the brave one.

If first kisses depended on me, they would never happen.

What’s that got to do with anything?

Well, if you feel like kissing someone, and think maybe they’d enjoy it…should you just sack up and do it? Is it dishonest not to?
(Yes, it is kind of a miracle that I ever managed to ever have a date ever in my whole life.)

Dishonesty, even if it’s well intended, can back fire. Of course, so can honesty. You’re probably doomed no matter what you do, so you might as well be honest as not. Right? Right…

A friend dared me to watch the movie “the Notebook” last week, so I rented it. It was supposed to prove that I am not the indifferent bitch that I like to pretend I am. Naturally, it made me cry. I am as much of a romantic as anyone, so one scene in the movie stuck in my mind. The teen lovers were in an old mansion, and the girl was saying all the things she wanted–a wrap around porch, a room to paint in–and the boy promised her all those things. Of course, she breaks his heart, but years later he ends up buying and renovating that old mansion. Puts on the wraparound porch. And the room for her to paint in. Even though she is now engaged to someone else. She comes to see him and asks him why he did it and he said “because I promised.”

And that is what I want. Someone who promises me something. Someone who keeps the promise. Someone who loves me no matter what. Who yells at me if I waver and reminds me who he is. Who reminds me who I am. Someone who will be honest with me even if he knows it will end up in a fight. Someone who will not run. Or cave in because I am mad, or crying. Someone who will be open, and encourage me to be.

That simple thing.

Simple, but is it even possible with all of the daily small deceptions? All of the little shields? It’s pretty simple to break down the heavy defenses, but can two people break down all the little self protections at the same time with each other? Because it doesn’t work if only one person does.

There need to be two people with their shields down and they both have to want each other.

Simple is not easy.

And we wrap our feelings in so much armor that it’s amazing that anyone ever knows what anyone else feels. You can set the armor aside, but all it takes is one well placed blow to make you put it right back on. And the more open you are, the more it hurts.

If you don’t take the armor off, though, you don’t feel anything.

So.

There is risk and loss no matter what you choose.

And you can’t help hurting people sometimes.

Even if you love them.

But maybe you can be honest with them, and keep the shields down with each other even when it stings.

Is it only a theoretical possibility?

Maybe I will find out.

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