Tag: love

Ambivalence

One of my pet peeves is the misuse of words, and probably the word I hear misused the most, at least in my life and circle of associates, is ‘ambivalence’.  People use it when what they really mean is ‘apathy’.   ‘Apathy’ means you can’t be arsed, or you give no fucks at all.   People often talk about being ambivalent about things they don’t care about.  That’s not what that word means.

‘Ambivalence’ is when you’re of two minds or have mixed feelings about a thing.

For example, I am ambivalent about intimacy.   That’s right, I have two minds about human touch and emotional closeness.

Almost every night, as I climb into bed, I long for someone to hold onto, but as I stretch out like a starfish, face down with four limbs splayed out in each direction, I appreciate the luxuriousness of a queen-sized bed for me and me alone.  I imagine how nice it would be if there was someone to say goodnight to, but I’m glad it’s quiet and cool, and I don’t have to lie awkwardly still, while someone drops off to sleep, always first, beside me.  I sit here, day after day, so glad to live alone, with time and space to study, read, film videos, and write, all the while feeling that I wish there was someone to sit next to me and read over my shoulder or tell me about their day.  But then, if they could only stay for a short time, and go away again, that’d be good.   I love to sit with my friends and talk for hours about how I just need to have more time peace and quiet.   I love looking straight and deep into my friends eyes when they’re telling me a story, but I wish everyone would stop looking at me.

I crave it, and I don’t.    I avoid it, and miss it.  I wish I had it, and I run away from it when I see it coming.   That is ambivalence.

So, if you really don’t give a rat’s ass about Fantasy Football, you’re not ambivalent about it.  You’re apathetic.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – The Movie

You know how there’s that party game, where you have to try to try to figure out who should play you in a movie?

Well, apparently they already made the story of my life into a movie, and I’m played by Dane Cook.  (You’re probably a little confused, but don’t worry, it’ll make sense in a minute.)

The other morning, I was on Instant Messager with Kayphore, as usual.   Blah, blah, blah, I didn’t sleep again, blah, blah, still sick, blah.  Same shit, different day, you know.   And then I told her about a certain realization that I have come to lately.   I am the perfect setup girl.  She didn’t quite understand what I meant at first, so I explained.

You see, if you date me or even if you just sleep with me, within a year you will be madly in love . . . just, you know, not with me.   At least the last three dudes I tangoed with are all, according to them, happy as freaking clams with some broad that they hooked up with within a year of dumping me.    One of them even had a baby with his new lady.  And there’s a chance that some guy that I only ever got to look at may be currently heading in the same direction, but it’s a little too early to tell in his case.  So, dating me sets you up to fall in love with someone else.  How convenient!

Anywho, I was relaying all of this to Kayphore, and she says that it sounds like a crappy movie that she didn’t see.   I responded that it did sound like the kind of thing that could be turned into some kind of banal romantic comedy, and she replied that it was really already an actual movie.   A couple of minutes later, after what I assume was some sort of scouring of the inernet, she came up with it.

Good Luck Chuck starring Dane Cook!

From Netflix:

Every time unlucky-in-love Chuck (Dane Cook) breaks up with a girlfriend, that girl ends up engaged to her next boyfriend. Women are soon knocking on Chuck’s door, hoping that after enduring a few dates with him, they’ll meet Mr. Right, a gamble that works out better for the ladies than it does for Chuck. But when he meets klutzy penguin trainer Cam (Jessica Alba), Chuck realizes that he has to stop being a way station on the path to love.

So, of course it’s in my queue now.   And it’s probably going to be horribly bad.  But it’s like an opportunity to watch yourself in a train wreck.

I guess the question is, who’s better looking . . . Dane Cook or Moi?

cookdane

– Or –

idance

And if you want to be madly in love sometime in the next year, you know, call me . . .

Just sayin’

The Love Post

I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately.  Not because I’ve found some new love to fall into, mind you, but maybe because I haven’t.      I’ve just been thinking of all the varieties of love, and how I experience them.   More exactly, what makes those loves most evident?

I also started thinking about this when I felt my heart swell on the 20th.

I’ve come up with a list of loves in my life, and how/when they are most intense.

There’s the Love I see on the television in the faces of millions listening to a man who promises to bring our dreams back to us, restore our values, and reminds us what patriotism feels like.   Love of ourselves.  Love our country.  Love of each other.
There’s the Love I can smell when we hug, that’s just exactly the same as how I remember, even after six years.
There’s the Love in the silence between Girls who know each others’ thoughts, and don’t have to say A Word to induce fits of Laughter from one another.   Even though it’s not been one year, let alone six.
There’s the Love of trusting me with your baby, even though I almost dropped him on His head.
There’s the Love I hear on my speakers when I Rocket Roll.
There’s the Love I see when I feel a heavy chain lowered around my neck, and open my eyes to see a Hardware Jewel in the mirror at Slim’s.
There’s the Love I feel as a fullness in my chest when I think of those closest to me.
It’s just a start of course.   There are as many types of love as their are Mates and Lovers.
Just sayin’.

Thoughts on The A-Word

Last night, I wrote a throw away post on my parents’ anniversary.  I wanted to write something, and I wanted to shout out to them on their special day, but I wasn’t really in the mood to write.    So, here’s what I woulda/coulda/shoulda written last night.  Here are my thoughts on their anniversary, and on anniversaries in general.

  • I sort of forgot that it was their anniversary, until I was on the phone with my mom.   I didn’t feel too bad about it, though, ’cause I think they forgot, too.   My dad got up yesterday to go to work, and he found a note from my mom asking him to pick up milk on the way home.   When he was finishing up his day with some paperwork, he remembered the date.  He said something to one of his co-workers, like, “oh, it’s June 10th.  It’s my wedding anniversary.”  The co-worker asked what he was going to get for my mom, and he told him he was getting her a carton of milk.  My mom gave him a slice of banana bread in return.   I hope to someday be in a relationship long enough that anniversaries are still important, but not anything to break your heart over if it happens to slip my mind.
  • Anniversaries.  The root of the word is ‘annual’.   Meaning yearly.   There’s no such thing as a six month anniversary.  A one month anniversary is also right out.   I think that would be a lunaversary.   And really, it’s just lunacy.   Being able to relate to someone for 30 whole days in a row shouldn’t be that difficult.   Unless you’re me, apparently, but that’s a rant for another time.
  • I don’t do anniversaries.  I was in a long term relationship once.   In two plus years, we could never agree when that anniversary would be, if we were to celebrate one.   When you get married, it’s easy.  It’s the day of the ceremony.   The anniversary of a birth, also very easy to track.    I’ve had anniversaries at jobs, too.  That’s super duper easy.   But when does it start to actually count when you’re dating.   ‘Cause there’s dating, and then there’s dating.    I mean, I could go on a date tonight, and in that sense, I’d be dating someone, but I wouldn’t consider someone my boyfriend on the first date.    So, if I did go on a date (this is a purely hypothetical scenario, by the way), and then down the road, that person did become a significant part of my life and family, when does it count?   What about if you’re with somebody for a really long time before you get married, and the day you consider to be the anniversary is different from your wedding date?   This is why I don’t do it.  It’s too confusing.  As always, though, I reserve the right to change my mind.
  • My parents have been married for 37 years.  They raised two kids.   I use the term loosely, since I don’t feel like too much of a real adult.   They worked.   They moved a few times.   They retired.   Now my dad is working again.    All this stuff has happened for them, to them, and with them.   They couldn’t possibly be the same people they were when they married, at ages 31 and 24.    How the hell did they do that?   I can’t even manage to get anyone to like me for more than 36 hours in a row right now.   I am incapable of being lovable.   And they’ve been in love longer than I’ve been alive.   My mom didn’t even like him when they met!    Seriously!   WTF?    What is wrong with me?
Just sayin’.