It is safe to say that I have never had a boyfriend. I've dated plenty but I've never been bound to someone by labels. In some ways this is good (so I've been told) and other ways not so good. We're all quite aware of my stunted social skills but there has yet to be a scientific study that proves correlation, let alone causation, when it comes to stunted social skills and lack o' boyfriends.
It hasn't even bugged me until lately. And the fact that it's bugging me now, is bugging me. So let us examine this a little deeper shall we.
I have a sister who is a serial monogamist, or something like it, basically she traps boys in to hanging on for a long time, then breaks up with them, says super nasty things about the girls they date next and then pretends they are friends again. This seems like a fairly typical scenario, I've seen some chick-flicks so I would know. But what is so intriguing about her whole set up is this whole gift thing. Almost without fail any serious ex-boyfriend starts giving her expensive gifts about a year or so after they break up. Like a TV. And that's after they've broken up!
So, issue number 1: Gifts. I want gifts, and not selfish I want things things, and not a TV, but gifts like, "Oh yeah I saw this trinket and thought of you!" gifts.
Also there is a rash of engagements and weddings. I would like one of those. And I am well aware that not all cultures require a boyfriend prior to engagement, in fact, I can think of a few that discourage such behavior but alas I am not a part of any of these cultures. And don't give me that "but people are waiting longer to get married" stuff. I know they are. I only know one or two people who were married before they were 20, though both my grandmothers and my mother were married before they were 20, so yeah waiting until you're 23 is like so waiting!
Issue 2: I'm being left in the dust.
I'm not really in a place socially or economically to have a boyfriend, so yeah throwing a wedding won't be happening anytime soon either. I live with my mother. I live with my mother 10 miles from the nearest town. I live with my mom 10 miles from the nearest town which is yet another 10 miles from anything to do. All that and I have two jobs and very little money.
Issue 3: I am a socially unattractive boomerang living in the boondocks. It weighs on me to type that sentence.
All issues aside, I'm lacking in confidence at the moment, and by moment I mean the last say seven years have lent their hands to this undermining feeling of inadequacy. I need a coach. And a therapist. And new shoes (this being the most pressing of the three, of course).
A little help?
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Help Wanted!
I've been looking for signs around town that express interest in hiring people. They are super hard to find. But looking for the stupid red signs got me thinking, when I was a young child I believed that a "Help Wanted" sign was in fact a PSA to help fugitives.
I know, you think I'm a nut. But for some reason I had this strange idea that we were supposed to aid the most wanted, keep them clothed and fed and out of the police's way. I didn't think this was a smart thing to do, as far as I had discerned criminals weren't people you really should be associating with, but I also was wise enough as a child to understand that people had differing ideologies.
Maybe it has to do with my religious mother and her Catholicism in a not particularly large town where plenty of Catholics reside but aren't always welcome (second most unwelcome Christians next to the Mormons I might add). Maybe it's that my parents are non-political (mostly) and maybe it's because growing up I understood that people only understood what they had experienced and living in a homogeneous place gave people a lot of room for misunderstanding. But mostly I think it was because even as a kid I was awesome.
I always wondered why some people wanted to put criminals in jail and why others wanted to help me, so much so that they posted it on shop windows. You're thinking now, "Well hells bells Megan, in all you're wisdom you're not that bright and shiny." But wait there is more!
I got my first job when I was 16, the sign that led me into the store said "Employment Opportunities." I had figured out by this point that "Help Wanted" meant the same thing but I had yet to come face to face with a real bad ass criminal. My first job, and subsequent jobs for that matter, have brought me into close contact with these people, I've worked with people jailed for being part of a gang that beat a man to death, stealing $5000 work of goods from a Target, possession of narcotics, DUI, credit card fraud and just being all around stupid. I have only not gotten along with two of said criminals, the Target thief (and not because she is a thief but because she wants me to risk my job to help her [though that might be part of the being a thief thing]) and the guy with the fraud issues (he also had a nasty habit of taking money out of other people's wallets, including mine).
Everyone else has been a "woops! my bad criminal." They seemed to be on the right track at that point and I would have helped them in some reasonable way if they had needed it. I would not have gone on a date with their criminal friends no matter how awesome they potentially were. Some how this idea from my childhood has made me sympathize with these social rejects. Maybe it's my bright and shiny wisdom shining though or maybe I'm a saint. But I've always wondered what would happen if we actually did help the wanted.
I know, you think I'm a nut. But for some reason I had this strange idea that we were supposed to aid the most wanted, keep them clothed and fed and out of the police's way. I didn't think this was a smart thing to do, as far as I had discerned criminals weren't people you really should be associating with, but I also was wise enough as a child to understand that people had differing ideologies.
Maybe it has to do with my religious mother and her Catholicism in a not particularly large town where plenty of Catholics reside but aren't always welcome (second most unwelcome Christians next to the Mormons I might add). Maybe it's that my parents are non-political (mostly) and maybe it's because growing up I understood that people only understood what they had experienced and living in a homogeneous place gave people a lot of room for misunderstanding. But mostly I think it was because even as a kid I was awesome.
I always wondered why some people wanted to put criminals in jail and why others wanted to help me, so much so that they posted it on shop windows. You're thinking now, "Well hells bells Megan, in all you're wisdom you're not that bright and shiny." But wait there is more!
I got my first job when I was 16, the sign that led me into the store said "Employment Opportunities." I had figured out by this point that "Help Wanted" meant the same thing but I had yet to come face to face with a real bad ass criminal. My first job, and subsequent jobs for that matter, have brought me into close contact with these people, I've worked with people jailed for being part of a gang that beat a man to death, stealing $5000 work of goods from a Target, possession of narcotics, DUI, credit card fraud and just being all around stupid. I have only not gotten along with two of said criminals, the Target thief (and not because she is a thief but because she wants me to risk my job to help her [though that might be part of the being a thief thing]) and the guy with the fraud issues (he also had a nasty habit of taking money out of other people's wallets, including mine).
Everyone else has been a "woops! my bad criminal." They seemed to be on the right track at that point and I would have helped them in some reasonable way if they had needed it. I would not have gone on a date with their criminal friends no matter how awesome they potentially were. Some how this idea from my childhood has made me sympathize with these social rejects. Maybe it's my bright and shiny wisdom shining though or maybe I'm a saint. But I've always wondered what would happen if we actually did help the wanted.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
A Thought on Mental Retardation
One of my problems has always been that I have a biting tongue, I talk out my ass, I don't think before I speak, whatever you please. The truth is as a child I got in trouble for lying, some scar has stuck with me. So here I am tell the truth and not sparing any one's feelings for better or worse. I know its mean, but I will not stop, I'm to set in my ways.
Today I kept my mouth shut. I had too, I'm living with 16 other people and if any only 1 or 2 were friends before this excursion. Its not a great time to be chomping on my feet. All I wanted to say was
"You are retarded."
thing was I didn't want to insult anyone who was born with any type of mental deficiency. (That sentence sounds mean too... I'm on a roll!)
Its not that this girl is actually stupid or deficient, she just acts like she is. Going on and on about the buttons on your shorts or feeling up her friends fuck buddy (which I'm not entirely sure is against the rules) and blurting out the dumbest fucking shit in class or in public. She prides herself in her ability to drink herself into oblivion and bitches about it the next day.
I just figured out why she bothers me.
The boys like her more than me.
And she has no chin. (which is worse?)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
