Monday, July 29, 2013
Cocky Neighbor
I work on my car in my driveway so often that I get asked about it by neighbors. This story isn't about what I've done recently, but what someone else did recently.
A neighbor of a different street has to pass by mine to get to where he's going. He's a guy a bit older than me whom I have never met, but I've seen this buy more often than I've seen most of my own friends this whole year.
He drives a BMW E36 M3. Naturally, it's a proper manual, as it should be. I know this just by listening to the engine/his gear changes as he drives by. It also has a loud exhaust, although I'm not sure if it is stock; those cars, similar to my dad's, actually do have good-sounding engines from the factory. Irrelevant; anyway:
I've seen him go down the street, and in all likeliness, he's probably seen me outside working on my car. I've never talked to him, made eye contact, or anything. But earlier this night, that sort of changed. It did, but didn't...?
I was driving my car, and stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left. To my left, he stops at his red light, waiting to turn left. I think there was another guy in there too. Remember, my Miata is pretty distinguishable with its cheesy racing stripes on the side. So he knows it's me, just as I know it's him over there.
(getting to the point)
Imagine being me: I have a pretty bone-stock car. Not loud, not fast (but still fun!). I know his is fast and loud. I know he'd easily whoop my ass in a race. But I think my stripes on the car give the impression that mine is a fast car.
I get the green light first, so I turn onto the street he's on, passing next to him. What am I supposed to do? Drive normally? Rev my dinky engine? Overpower it and drift past? Do I look at him, give a dirty look, a neutral, or a smirk, or smile?
The first one: drive normally. It wasn't a hard decision.
But he revs his engine as I pass by. What? Why? Was he being cocky? Was he just saying "Hey, I know you"? I doubt that. Did he give me a look? I don't know; frankly, I ignored it, finished my turn, and didn't look at him at all.
Most of you (if any of you) probably think I'm really over analyzing this. I admit this is a really uneventful story. But in guy terms, in car guy terms... let me put it this way:
Two cars pull up to a red light. One revs his engine. This means one and only one thing: race on green. Roll the windows down and give each other the nod and rev engines more, if you want. Etc.
So him revving his engine as I pass by is a bit confusing to me. He was being cocky, yes, but what am I supposed to do? U-turn and pull up next to him? No...
I dunno. This is just bothering me.
A neighbor of a different street has to pass by mine to get to where he's going. He's a guy a bit older than me whom I have never met, but I've seen this buy more often than I've seen most of my own friends this whole year.
He drives a BMW E36 M3. Naturally, it's a proper manual, as it should be. I know this just by listening to the engine/his gear changes as he drives by. It also has a loud exhaust, although I'm not sure if it is stock; those cars, similar to my dad's, actually do have good-sounding engines from the factory. Irrelevant; anyway:
I've seen him go down the street, and in all likeliness, he's probably seen me outside working on my car. I've never talked to him, made eye contact, or anything. But earlier this night, that sort of changed. It did, but didn't...?
I was driving my car, and stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left. To my left, he stops at his red light, waiting to turn left. I think there was another guy in there too. Remember, my Miata is pretty distinguishable with its cheesy racing stripes on the side. So he knows it's me, just as I know it's him over there.
(getting to the point)
Imagine being me: I have a pretty bone-stock car. Not loud, not fast (but still fun!). I know his is fast and loud. I know he'd easily whoop my ass in a race. But I think my stripes on the car give the impression that mine is a fast car.
I get the green light first, so I turn onto the street he's on, passing next to him. What am I supposed to do? Drive normally? Rev my dinky engine? Overpower it and drift past? Do I look at him, give a dirty look, a neutral, or a smirk, or smile?
The first one: drive normally. It wasn't a hard decision.
But he revs his engine as I pass by. What? Why? Was he being cocky? Was he just saying "Hey, I know you"? I doubt that. Did he give me a look? I don't know; frankly, I ignored it, finished my turn, and didn't look at him at all.
Most of you (if any of you) probably think I'm really over analyzing this. I admit this is a really uneventful story. But in guy terms, in car guy terms... let me put it this way:
Two cars pull up to a red light. One revs his engine. This means one and only one thing: race on green. Roll the windows down and give each other the nod and rev engines more, if you want. Etc.
So him revving his engine as I pass by is a bit confusing to me. He was being cocky, yes, but what am I supposed to do? U-turn and pull up next to him? No...
I dunno. This is just bothering me.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
I Keep Forgetting
that a friendship doesn't mean romance or mutual liked feelings. Liking someone just as a friend is a completely reasonable and often overlooked aspect in my mind.
Between my other posts, I think I've tried to share how I've prevented myself from entering romantic relationships that frankly didn't exist in the first place. But I've skimped over pursuing a legitimate friendly association with these girls.
The reason why, and I am trying to understand this as I type, is because I have had either no or poor friendly relationships. Simply put: I haven't had good friends. It feels like, I just know people. And they know me. And sometimes we do things together. Friends, yes, but not good friends. Not mutual friendships. I'm always, well, most often the initiator of actions with someone else. I'm not invited places unless I'm already hanging out with someone. I'm not called to do something. I don't go to parties or the movies or the beach. If this is to happen, I have to be the one to put myself out there.
As a kid, that's what I did: invite myself. I would find out about something, and try to have myself included. I would knock on friend's doors just to see if they were home (before cell phones, kids).
As I grew up, I accepted I wasn't really welcome because of my personality and lack of social buzz, so I did less and less of that. Even between the group of people I would eat lunch with during high school, when one of them had a movie party, I felt that I was invited out of pity, not because I would be enjoyed. For example: I had been hanging out with them for two years. In my yearbook, one of them wrote something like, "It's been nice getting to know you this year, you're almost part of the group!" As if to imply I had only been there one year, not two.
I had also fitted myself into another group of friends, who became a little closer knit. One of them became my (now, ex) girlfriend. And that's where my second outlook on friendship arises. My first outlook, just to be clear, is that I don't belong. My second, specifically with a girl I like, is that we may eventually become more than friends.
That's why I have written what I wrote recently. This mentality is where my insecurities come from. I have trouble being a girl's friend because I have the previous experience of becoming more than friends.
I can't treat a friendship with her like I would with a guy friend because my existing guy friendships aren't good either. Following me?
Maintaining a friendship with anyone would be easier for me if I knew how. I need someone to be there. Isn't that what a friend should be? There?
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Good Tidings
I feel better now then I did last night. A bit like a weight was lifted. And more things have been learned about myself. I have new ambitions.
I'm going to focus more on being a better person to myself. Ways to treat myself right. I do mean in terms of exercising, but more than that. Less selfishness and more selflessness. To stop being needy for feelings I don't receive and a lifestyle that doesn't exist. I will calm down, keep to myself again, and accept how the way things are. This isn't the time of change, this is a time for concentration in more important things. This means my last week of school, helping my parents more around the house, and keeping my room and my mind neat and tidy.
And to keep in touch with my passive-aggressive attitude, I'll be seeking self fulfillment, because I know that I'm not going to find any from anyone else. My rudeness makes yet another unwelcome appearance, and that'd why people don't want to be with me, because sometimes I'm a real ass.
More Thoughts on Loneliness
I am quite tired, as you can tell from the post's published time.
But there's just a little more that I want to get off my chest, after having finished the last post. Sort of like a follow-up.
Love is a vague term. I love my car differently than I love my cats than I love a girl. My cats, whom this post will focus, are the closest to my heart. My heart does have space reserved for a girl, for a proper relationship, but she could never take the place of my cats.
I have 5 cats. Right now, 3 of them are sleeping on my bed. That's partly why I'm not in bed, because I don't fit without moving them. I can't, though, they're just so cute.
They're so fuzzy. So sweet. So calming.
They can make my day better or worse, but usually better. They can run away from me, or come to me when they want. They can keep me warm. But mostly they can be picked up, and held.
I can hold them in my arms several times a day. This is what keeps me okay. This is what has kept me okay for years of loneliness.
They don't ask for much; they're cats. Cats are mostly independent creatures. But since they're domestic animals, they do come back for food and water and a litter box and a cozy place to sleep.
This point is rather obvious, but they don't judge (as most animals don't). The relevance lies in their capacity to bring comfort, no matter who you are, what you are, and what you do. They don't preconceive opinions about you like people do, they just... like your company.
Cats are the best kind of company. I can budge them out of the way, just enough, and they'll still stay. Or get annoyed and leave, depending on which of my cats. One I can cuddle with the most; one, not so much.
They all "meow" differently, and I love how each is different. I like to mimic them. Like, talk to them. Most of them will respond. They'll come just to be petted. Or to be let out, or let in, or to ask to refill the food bowl, etc. But there is an inherent sweetness in their voice that I never cease to ignore. It's the greatest sound to me; a cat's meow. Other cat noises are nice too, purring being the next big one. And there on my bed, as I pet one of them, that's what I hear. The soft vibration of a small furry animal who enjoys being petted.
And as a small sidenote, that's why I have also always enjoyed touching a girl's hair. Not because I expect her to purr, but because I just like the feeling against my hand. Silky hair or not, it doesn't matter, I just like stroking hair. It calms me down. It's relaxing.
But that's what's often missing. A girl's hair to be appreciated, and a girl to love for everything about her. The moments, the quiet moments when, well, literally petting her hair is appropriate and enjoyable are the little treasures in my life. If I could make her happy, and if she could fall asleep in my arms, I would be happy to an extent words can't describe.
Cats, though, my cats are always here. I can come home, and by the end of the day, I'll have a friend, a close friend, to pick up, hold in my arms, pet, and fall asleep with. That may be an odd request for a significant other, but if she really is, it wouldn't be odd at all.
But there's just a little more that I want to get off my chest, after having finished the last post. Sort of like a follow-up.
Love is a vague term. I love my car differently than I love my cats than I love a girl. My cats, whom this post will focus, are the closest to my heart. My heart does have space reserved for a girl, for a proper relationship, but she could never take the place of my cats.
I have 5 cats. Right now, 3 of them are sleeping on my bed. That's partly why I'm not in bed, because I don't fit without moving them. I can't, though, they're just so cute.
They're so fuzzy. So sweet. So calming.
They can make my day better or worse, but usually better. They can run away from me, or come to me when they want. They can keep me warm. But mostly they can be picked up, and held.
I can hold them in my arms several times a day. This is what keeps me okay. This is what has kept me okay for years of loneliness.
They don't ask for much; they're cats. Cats are mostly independent creatures. But since they're domestic animals, they do come back for food and water and a litter box and a cozy place to sleep.
This point is rather obvious, but they don't judge (as most animals don't). The relevance lies in their capacity to bring comfort, no matter who you are, what you are, and what you do. They don't preconceive opinions about you like people do, they just... like your company.
Cats are the best kind of company. I can budge them out of the way, just enough, and they'll still stay. Or get annoyed and leave, depending on which of my cats. One I can cuddle with the most; one, not so much.
They all "meow" differently, and I love how each is different. I like to mimic them. Like, talk to them. Most of them will respond. They'll come just to be petted. Or to be let out, or let in, or to ask to refill the food bowl, etc. But there is an inherent sweetness in their voice that I never cease to ignore. It's the greatest sound to me; a cat's meow. Other cat noises are nice too, purring being the next big one. And there on my bed, as I pet one of them, that's what I hear. The soft vibration of a small furry animal who enjoys being petted.
And as a small sidenote, that's why I have also always enjoyed touching a girl's hair. Not because I expect her to purr, but because I just like the feeling against my hand. Silky hair or not, it doesn't matter, I just like stroking hair. It calms me down. It's relaxing.
But that's what's often missing. A girl's hair to be appreciated, and a girl to love for everything about her. The moments, the quiet moments when, well, literally petting her hair is appropriate and enjoyable are the little treasures in my life. If I could make her happy, and if she could fall asleep in my arms, I would be happy to an extent words can't describe.
Cats, though, my cats are always here. I can come home, and by the end of the day, I'll have a friend, a close friend, to pick up, hold in my arms, pet, and fall asleep with. That may be an odd request for a significant other, but if she really is, it wouldn't be odd at all.
A Week of Happenings
Sometimes when I write, I start from present and work back. Other times I pick a day and move forward. I don't know how I have chosen either, but today I'll go with, yesterday. And work backwards for as far as I can remember to tell.
I become lucky in finding girls who have a really great, fun personality. Woah, I don't mean to say a lot; five specifically. That's going to be the theme for today. These four. And they all have two things in common: great people, and really far away.
Today I went to an art gallery to see Lego sculptures. Not kidding. A guy professionally builds sculptures with Lego bricks. And they are on display at the time of this writing.
A girl I met at school recently-ish whom I've vaguely mentioned in previous posts lives sort-of in the area as the exhibit. So I asked if she wanted to see this unique artwork. To be honest, I would have gone to see it without her because I'm really interested in seeing it, but I'm more happy since she agreed to check it out with me.
Before the exhibit, she suggested to grab something to eat. I'm all in favor for more things to do. Portos, was it? I really liked the sandwich, even if I didn't express it very well. They have a lot of good food! (I hear.)
In my car again, which itself is an adventure. I know I talk about the things I do to the car, but I haven't really expressed the driving experience. You may or may not know that Miata's get a bad rap for being gay and small and an underdog, but those are by people who haven't driven one. It's popularity comes from being reliable, a flaw among the British roadsters that it was modeled after. Also, it is customizable and upgradable in many ways, from aesthetics to power to handling. And that's where it shines best: handling, for an inexpensive sports coupé. It commonly makes comparisons with a go-cart. Power isn't admirable, and anyone seeking power either has to pay for the upgrades, or pay for another car. This thing is about the love of driving, especially when it's on a clear, windy mountain road with the top down (which I have been fortunate enough to take it on).
But back to today. We went to see large models of plastic bricks. This shit blows people's minds, and like the artist, I love seeing people's reactions to what can be accomplished with these simple bricks. Check out more of his work!
After, and this is what caught me by surprise: she suggested we just lay down in the shade. Me, being exactly that type of calm person, was surprised to see her, a girl of many words and motion (she moves around a lot) wanted to relax. But that's what we did, for.. a half hour? I guess. We found a quiet place on a concrete planter's edge under a tree and minimally talked and took a few awkward pictures.
This is where I have trouble expressing my thoughts into words. In fact, there's a time and a place, and that's not here. I can't, not now. I'm sorry.
We left the shady tree and the museum and I intended to drive the car down Mulholland Drive. But then my car started acting up. Looking back on it, I'm glad it did. The road is winding through the mountains, which makes it a fun road, but it's not one of the more empty ones... coppers, if you know what I mean. Also, as I may have enjoyed the driving experience, my passenger may have not. Not because I would have driven hard, but the tight corners would naturally cause stress to someone not knowing if the car would handle it. Lastly, because I had to be in class about 2 hours from then. A detour would have caused me to be late.
In fact, I was late anyway. Blame the 405. Which, by the way, my dad tells me has gotten worse. He used to drive it to Santa Monica daily to work, and he quit because he got sick and tired of the commute. He intended to find me (hah) on my way back, and when I got home he claims it's worse than when he quit (a matter of at least 4 years ago). Anyway, together with careful driving and the traffic, I was late to class anyway.
But in regards to the girl, I had a very nice day; certainly a change of pace. I wonder if it was a change for her too. Hopefully. It would make me feel a little more special to be different. The next time I see her, after my car's been repaired (I'll talk about that when it happens), I want it to be at night, for her to experience a single joy that's exclusive to my type of car: a convertible with the top down in a place of no lights, looking up at the stars and trees passing over the road. I (finally) fell in love with my car the night I got to do this (with someone else driving my car), and I would love for others to experience this too.
Last weekend, however, I met another girl. I'm probably not going to see her ever again. This sucks, because she was just... I don't know, I can't be more creative than to say "perfect." Obviously she has imperfections, but good ones. However, there are some that can't be ignored:
1. (keeping with the theme) she lives far away, approx two hours.
2. it was only one afternoon that we got know each other, and it's not love I'm declaring, but despite how much we got to know each other, one day just isn't sufficient.
Although that is something she has in common with the one I most recently spent my day with. It was a fairly minimal amount of days that I learned a lot about her.
3. She's 16. I'm 20. In the long run, it's not weird for a 32yo to be with a 28yo, but college and high school does significantly set two people apart.
4. She also doesn't have a phone or facebook, imagine that. Her phone's broken, I gave her my number anyway, and she gave me a cute note saying she'll text me. I trust her.
But there's more to my mind than just relationships. (Although as I think about it now, that seems to be a lot of what I talk about. I didn't notice that before. I'll keep that in mind.)
Having been in a relationship for two years, and it having ended... 4 months ago, I'm still getting used to the lonely lifestyle again. I hate that I want to be attached (in a good way) to someone again, but only now is when I'm realizing that this is so evident.
Anyway, during that weekend, my mother, who makes her own jewelry and tries to sell it at craft fairs, brought me along to help her with set-up and stuff. But during the fair, for the three days, at a winery, I chose to find a quiet (but still public, open) spot to draw.
Yes, I do like to draw. Yes, that's entirely pencil sketching. No, it's not finished. No, I didn't draw this in three days, especially not in those conditions I was in (windy, distracting, etc.). No, I don't know who this girl is. I found the photograph on another blog of pretty pictures. Yes, I will update you when I finish it. It may be by next week, depending if I actually work on it and not my car.
During the three days, I spent at least two hours sitting and drawing. People at the winery/fair would walk by, few of which were courageous enough to compliment me. I don't meant to sound cocky, but hey, based on the compliments, everyone declares they can't even come close.
Four people, I kept track, said they could only draw stick figures. Two of them had confidence in the quality of their stick figures. The other two did not.
The good news, other than the girl asking to sit next to me on the third day, was that on the first day, a woman working in the vineyard, who I assume is a PR or advertising type of person, asked me for my card. I told her this is a hobby (because it is) and I don't have a card. She asked for my name and number, and complimented my work. She asked about an idea she had for something I could draw, I said certainly. She left and brought back the manager of the vineyard to show him what I was doing. Dude, that's cool. He liked it too. So maybe, sometime, I might get a phone call for a commission. I can only hope. I have no idea what my price is, so that's something I need to research from other artists.
One thing that has stuck to me about this girl I met: I taught her things. I, and I don't mean to be cocky again, but I improved her life, at least her outlook on it. I shared my experience from being in high school, being in college, and the kinds of lessons I've learned through the years, specifically about other people. And then about herself. She and I have fairly opposite personalities (like all the other girls in this post), but this one stuck out the most because she is the most independent. Not in regards to responsibility, but social status. For various reasons, people at her high school don't like her. But me, I really like her. She seeks approval from people, whereas I can sit back and relax as others watch me. Her paranoia gets to her. It used to get to me too, but I've learned to deal with it. I've learned confidence and learned about my self-esteem. I've learned who I am and what I can do and who affects that. I know what my skills are with other people. That doesn't mean I'm good with other people, but I know how to deal with people. I know what is worth fighting for. This is a very difficult thing for many people to figure out. Most have to stand their ground. Me: I let them. This dismisses negative judgement. This creates a more common bond between people...more "neutral" than it is negative or positive. I know what it means to be assertive, and I know what it means to be accepted. I know when to dismiss the thoughts of others for my own well-being. I know how to act when I seek acceptance. But mostly, I know how to be me, a definition for which varies too far to be understood in language: it's an understanding in the mind, granted you've known me long enough, or at least read all of my writing.
This girl was, and not in a bad way, but the best kind of way: an open book. She had never met anyone like me. To hear the way I think was new to her. But we shared so many similar experiences of exclusion in high school that I knew what she was talking about.
And it just sort of happened: she trusted me, with so much of her life. It didn't take that long, either. I don't want to brag, but it's like I had this calming effect on this disorganized girl. I helped sort out her thoughts. I explained that this is how some things are, this is how I've dealt with it, and it's okay to be this kind of person. She was someone I could vent to, as well. Very much how I vent on here. It's the closest I've ever felt to another mind.
Granted, my heart has felt closer to my ex-girlfriend, but to be honest, she didn't really "get" me, not as well as I would have wished. Not at all during our relationship. We had chemistry in other ways, but not enough in... this department. This 16yo girl, she got me. And I got her. She sat with me for maybe five hours, while we talked and I sort-of drew. And that's the closest I've ever felt to what's inside someone else's head. But... she's four years younger... I hope you can see why this means something to me.
Although I do want to point out a small detail... it's not love... I loved my ex, I did, very much so, and I know what that feeling is. That's from the heart. And it took some time to get there. Not a long time, but certainly more than a day. The young girl, I do really like her, but that's my logical mind speaking.
If I do admit to love within this post, I could almost say it's for the girl I spent yesterday with. But I can't admit to that, because it's way too soon, I'd rather be a good friend rather than more than a friend, and she'd rather have that too. So I can't. And a moment after thinking about it more, I don't. I'm not going to jeopardize something I don't even have yet. Additionally, I don't want another failure, another loss.
There's my mind, finally in words. Finally out there. No more "What are you thinking?" because that, that's what I'm constantly thinking. How I have to repress myself from trying to hard. How to keep myself from just thinking too much. So I can stop changing the subject each time she asks and just tell her that. I can say, "I'm just thinking about how to be a friend," and that's it.
That's also it for the post, too. Nevermind the other girls with the "theme," I've already said enough about myself. I don't need to keep sharing my past. I need to put more thought into what kind of person I am, and what I am to other people. I feel disappointed in myself for doing this.
Especially since the girl I spent yesterday with told me she has read some of my other posts. That's left me with the notion that she's going to read this, so I've felt like I'm talking to her, especially since I don't know if anyone reads this.
But this is me, being honest. I usually can't help it, honesty is something that's wired in. This kind of honesty just escapes in this writing; this self-expression. So it is basically a public diary. But it helps me to know that someone might read it and hopefully help me, but I never get feedback, and I'm never helped otherwise. But now I feel bad for exposing myself like this. I feel worse for telling her this in this way.
But mostly, I feel that she needs to know this, because I can't express this verbally.
I become lucky in finding girls who have a really great, fun personality. Woah, I don't mean to say a lot; five specifically. That's going to be the theme for today. These four. And they all have two things in common: great people, and really far away.
Today I went to an art gallery to see Lego sculptures. Not kidding. A guy professionally builds sculptures with Lego bricks. And they are on display at the time of this writing.A girl I met at school recently-ish whom I've vaguely mentioned in previous posts lives sort-of in the area as the exhibit. So I asked if she wanted to see this unique artwork. To be honest, I would have gone to see it without her because I'm really interested in seeing it, but I'm more happy since she agreed to check it out with me.
Before the exhibit, she suggested to grab something to eat. I'm all in favor for more things to do. Portos, was it? I really liked the sandwich, even if I didn't express it very well. They have a lot of good food! (I hear.)
In my car again, which itself is an adventure. I know I talk about the things I do to the car, but I haven't really expressed the driving experience. You may or may not know that Miata's get a bad rap for being gay and small and an underdog, but those are by people who haven't driven one. It's popularity comes from being reliable, a flaw among the British roadsters that it was modeled after. Also, it is customizable and upgradable in many ways, from aesthetics to power to handling. And that's where it shines best: handling, for an inexpensive sports coupé. It commonly makes comparisons with a go-cart. Power isn't admirable, and anyone seeking power either has to pay for the upgrades, or pay for another car. This thing is about the love of driving, especially when it's on a clear, windy mountain road with the top down (which I have been fortunate enough to take it on).
But back to today. We went to see large models of plastic bricks. This shit blows people's minds, and like the artist, I love seeing people's reactions to what can be accomplished with these simple bricks. Check out more of his work!
After, and this is what caught me by surprise: she suggested we just lay down in the shade. Me, being exactly that type of calm person, was surprised to see her, a girl of many words and motion (she moves around a lot) wanted to relax. But that's what we did, for.. a half hour? I guess. We found a quiet place on a concrete planter's edge under a tree and minimally talked and took a few awkward pictures.
This is where I have trouble expressing my thoughts into words. In fact, there's a time and a place, and that's not here. I can't, not now. I'm sorry.
We left the shady tree and the museum and I intended to drive the car down Mulholland Drive. But then my car started acting up. Looking back on it, I'm glad it did. The road is winding through the mountains, which makes it a fun road, but it's not one of the more empty ones... coppers, if you know what I mean. Also, as I may have enjoyed the driving experience, my passenger may have not. Not because I would have driven hard, but the tight corners would naturally cause stress to someone not knowing if the car would handle it. Lastly, because I had to be in class about 2 hours from then. A detour would have caused me to be late.
In fact, I was late anyway. Blame the 405. Which, by the way, my dad tells me has gotten worse. He used to drive it to Santa Monica daily to work, and he quit because he got sick and tired of the commute. He intended to find me (hah) on my way back, and when I got home he claims it's worse than when he quit (a matter of at least 4 years ago). Anyway, together with careful driving and the traffic, I was late to class anyway.
But in regards to the girl, I had a very nice day; certainly a change of pace. I wonder if it was a change for her too. Hopefully. It would make me feel a little more special to be different. The next time I see her, after my car's been repaired (I'll talk about that when it happens), I want it to be at night, for her to experience a single joy that's exclusive to my type of car: a convertible with the top down in a place of no lights, looking up at the stars and trees passing over the road. I (finally) fell in love with my car the night I got to do this (with someone else driving my car), and I would love for others to experience this too.
Last weekend, however, I met another girl. I'm probably not going to see her ever again. This sucks, because she was just... I don't know, I can't be more creative than to say "perfect." Obviously she has imperfections, but good ones. However, there are some that can't be ignored:
1. (keeping with the theme) she lives far away, approx two hours.
2. it was only one afternoon that we got know each other, and it's not love I'm declaring, but despite how much we got to know each other, one day just isn't sufficient.
Although that is something she has in common with the one I most recently spent my day with. It was a fairly minimal amount of days that I learned a lot about her.
3. She's 16. I'm 20. In the long run, it's not weird for a 32yo to be with a 28yo, but college and high school does significantly set two people apart.
4. She also doesn't have a phone or facebook, imagine that. Her phone's broken, I gave her my number anyway, and she gave me a cute note saying she'll text me. I trust her.
But there's more to my mind than just relationships. (Although as I think about it now, that seems to be a lot of what I talk about. I didn't notice that before. I'll keep that in mind.)
Having been in a relationship for two years, and it having ended... 4 months ago, I'm still getting used to the lonely lifestyle again. I hate that I want to be attached (in a good way) to someone again, but only now is when I'm realizing that this is so evident.
Anyway, during that weekend, my mother, who makes her own jewelry and tries to sell it at craft fairs, brought me along to help her with set-up and stuff. But during the fair, for the three days, at a winery, I chose to find a quiet (but still public, open) spot to draw.During the three days, I spent at least two hours sitting and drawing. People at the winery/fair would walk by, few of which were courageous enough to compliment me. I don't meant to sound cocky, but hey, based on the compliments, everyone declares they can't even come close.
Four people, I kept track, said they could only draw stick figures. Two of them had confidence in the quality of their stick figures. The other two did not.
The good news, other than the girl asking to sit next to me on the third day, was that on the first day, a woman working in the vineyard, who I assume is a PR or advertising type of person, asked me for my card. I told her this is a hobby (because it is) and I don't have a card. She asked for my name and number, and complimented my work. She asked about an idea she had for something I could draw, I said certainly. She left and brought back the manager of the vineyard to show him what I was doing. Dude, that's cool. He liked it too. So maybe, sometime, I might get a phone call for a commission. I can only hope. I have no idea what my price is, so that's something I need to research from other artists.
One thing that has stuck to me about this girl I met: I taught her things. I, and I don't mean to be cocky again, but I improved her life, at least her outlook on it. I shared my experience from being in high school, being in college, and the kinds of lessons I've learned through the years, specifically about other people. And then about herself. She and I have fairly opposite personalities (like all the other girls in this post), but this one stuck out the most because she is the most independent. Not in regards to responsibility, but social status. For various reasons, people at her high school don't like her. But me, I really like her. She seeks approval from people, whereas I can sit back and relax as others watch me. Her paranoia gets to her. It used to get to me too, but I've learned to deal with it. I've learned confidence and learned about my self-esteem. I've learned who I am and what I can do and who affects that. I know what my skills are with other people. That doesn't mean I'm good with other people, but I know how to deal with people. I know what is worth fighting for. This is a very difficult thing for many people to figure out. Most have to stand their ground. Me: I let them. This dismisses negative judgement. This creates a more common bond between people...more "neutral" than it is negative or positive. I know what it means to be assertive, and I know what it means to be accepted. I know when to dismiss the thoughts of others for my own well-being. I know how to act when I seek acceptance. But mostly, I know how to be me, a definition for which varies too far to be understood in language: it's an understanding in the mind, granted you've known me long enough, or at least read all of my writing.
This girl was, and not in a bad way, but the best kind of way: an open book. She had never met anyone like me. To hear the way I think was new to her. But we shared so many similar experiences of exclusion in high school that I knew what she was talking about.
And it just sort of happened: she trusted me, with so much of her life. It didn't take that long, either. I don't want to brag, but it's like I had this calming effect on this disorganized girl. I helped sort out her thoughts. I explained that this is how some things are, this is how I've dealt with it, and it's okay to be this kind of person. She was someone I could vent to, as well. Very much how I vent on here. It's the closest I've ever felt to another mind.
Granted, my heart has felt closer to my ex-girlfriend, but to be honest, she didn't really "get" me, not as well as I would have wished. Not at all during our relationship. We had chemistry in other ways, but not enough in... this department. This 16yo girl, she got me. And I got her. She sat with me for maybe five hours, while we talked and I sort-of drew. And that's the closest I've ever felt to what's inside someone else's head. But... she's four years younger... I hope you can see why this means something to me.
Although I do want to point out a small detail... it's not love... I loved my ex, I did, very much so, and I know what that feeling is. That's from the heart. And it took some time to get there. Not a long time, but certainly more than a day. The young girl, I do really like her, but that's my logical mind speaking.
If I do admit to love within this post, I could almost say it's for the girl I spent yesterday with. But I can't admit to that, because it's way too soon, I'd rather be a good friend rather than more than a friend, and she'd rather have that too. So I can't. And a moment after thinking about it more, I don't. I'm not going to jeopardize something I don't even have yet. Additionally, I don't want another failure, another loss.
There's my mind, finally in words. Finally out there. No more "What are you thinking?" because that, that's what I'm constantly thinking. How I have to repress myself from trying to hard. How to keep myself from just thinking too much. So I can stop changing the subject each time she asks and just tell her that. I can say, "I'm just thinking about how to be a friend," and that's it.
That's also it for the post, too. Nevermind the other girls with the "theme," I've already said enough about myself. I don't need to keep sharing my past. I need to put more thought into what kind of person I am, and what I am to other people. I feel disappointed in myself for doing this.
Especially since the girl I spent yesterday with told me she has read some of my other posts. That's left me with the notion that she's going to read this, so I've felt like I'm talking to her, especially since I don't know if anyone reads this.
But this is me, being honest. I usually can't help it, honesty is something that's wired in. This kind of honesty just escapes in this writing; this self-expression. So it is basically a public diary. But it helps me to know that someone might read it and hopefully help me, but I never get feedback, and I'm never helped otherwise. But now I feel bad for exposing myself like this. I feel worse for telling her this in this way.
But mostly, I feel that she needs to know this, because I can't express this verbally.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Opinion Time
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| This is not photoshopped. This is real. |
On the other side, should I...
duplicate what I have:
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| Straight lines |
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| Flowing "leaves" |
Note: The car is going to later be re-painted entirely to a new color, so in the meantime, I wanted to have fun with my... toy. Now it really looks more like a toy, on top of it already being small. It's ridiculously fun, don't hate.
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