Step 1: Be extremely attractive.
Step 2: Be extremely wealthy.
Step 3: Do not get a tattoo on your face.
Step 1: Be extremely attractive.
Step 2: Be extremely wealthy.
Step 3: Do not get a tattoo on your face.
You work your whole life to make yourself desirable. If you’re lucky enough to find someone to spend the rest of your life with, what’s the point in maintaining it, other than wanting to extend your life with this person? Oh, I suppose that is why.
But honestly, it seems like a lot of people tend to let themselves go after they settle down. However, coming right off of a huge amount of weight loss and adherence to a strict diet, I am not planning on letting that happen anytime soon. I don’t really care what anybody thinks about my looks, other than my girlfriend, but that’s more than enough motivation. I always have to look my best for her. If I know I’m seeing her the next day, I make sure to take an extra long shower and to actually use a clean towel when drying myself off. You guys may wince at that, but how many guys out there use a clean towel every time they shower? Really? Do you understand how much laundry that takes? Especially when you only have one towel left because the rest are lost in a mountain of clothes strewn out on the floor of your closet?
My OCD goes into hyperdrive before I see her. I don’t cut any corners. If I own a hygienic product, I’m using it. I suddenly have a beard trimmer in my cabinet for some reason, and I’m for damn sure using it, and I have absolutely no facial hair.
I don’t believe that my motivation to better my physical self will change as my relationship develops. I’ve had a whole new mindset over the past year and a half. Nothing will stop me on my journey to chiseled super sex god.
Anything good that has or will ever happen to you is hanging by a very thin thread. At any moment, you could die in so many ways, the love of your life could leave you, you could lose all of your wealth, or your internet and cable television could go out yet again because you settled for Comcast. Nothing is for sure except regular urination and death, and even that is not secure if you have something wrong with your bladder or kidneys.
Don’t get too comfortable. I know this and am never comfortable. No matter how good my life seemingly gets, in the back of my mind I know I could lose it all in an instant. Yes, it helps me take nothing for granted, but it also takes up the majority of the hours in the day. Is it worth it? Probably not. Can I help it? I cannot. Will we all eventually die anyway? Yes.
Maybe after a certain amount of time with the love of my life, I will realize she’s not going away. Until then, I will continue to experience constant heart palpitations, back sweats, the inability to speak, and a lot of forehead scratching. Maybe there’s a certain amount of time that G-d’s making me live through before I can experience this. There is only so much more I can take.
I shouldn’t complain, though. Life is good. I have the best girlfriend of all time, a great job, and Tums I haven’t had to use in over a year. I have to lay down, though.
I’ve seen some bad things in my life. I saw a kid get hit by a car. I saw an entire season of Repo Games. I saw myself in the mirror three years ago. Up until last night, I have never seen anything as bad as the writing that went into the live production of Sesame Street that toured through our city.
I have pretty high standards when it comes to Sesame Street and The Muppets, and I won’t tolerate any B.S. I spent my entire early childhood glued to Sesame Street. So much so that my little brother would often try to mess with me while watching and I once ripped his head off. The doctors had to surgically reconnect it. True story.
Granted, it’s been a few years since I’ve seen it, and I really only went last night because I wanted to watch my girlfriend’s daughter enjoy the show. Also, I didn’t pay for the tickets. Also, I got a soda. Also, I got to spend time with my girlfriend. Also, it was an Elmo-centric show, and Elmo is easily one of my top four Sesame Street characters and top nine Muppets. I didn’t have high expectations, because I figured it would be geared towards two-year-olds. But for the same reason that kids’ movies have some adult undertones, this show should have at least had some sort of a plot.
Instead, it was characters dancing and singing about nothing, with each segment having nothing at all to do with the preceding or proceeding. The show was loosely centered on the idea that Elmo stole Abby’s magic wand. However, even this didn’t make any sense, and it was just an excuse for Elmo to dance around with a wand and make magic things happen like lights go off and then on again.
They played a lot of the classic Sesame Street songs, which were great, but they also played some other songs. I don’t know if these are Sesame Street songs that have been written within the past 22 years, or just some crap they threw together for this show, but I rather would have just heard the song “Sing“ played nonstop for an hour and a half.
Also, this is just a little gripe, but Cookie Monster did not eat a single cookie. As an adult, I often question why a children’s television character’s single characteristic is his love for cookies, especially in the midst of a childhood obesity epidemic. However, it’s Cookie Monster. There’s no going back. If he’s going to be in the show, which he damn sure should be, feed the guy a cookie.
I am writing this blog post at my girlfriend’s home. I consider that in itself a success. I’m an expert at almost nothing, but — if there’s something I not only do not qualify to give advice on, but believe that my advice may actually cause bodily harm — it’s dating.
Dating sucks. That’s why typical dating spots usually offer an abundance of alcohol. Without alcohol I would be so much of a worse/better dater.
The first enjoyable date I have ever attended was the first one with my current girlfriend. Yes, I had a beer, and yes, fajitas were involved, but there was so much more. Sour cream… Guacamole….
It was the first time I was out with a person when I was simultaneously not nervous at all — and yet completely terrified. I could completely be myself, yet still had to calculate my every move because I wanted another opportunity to be myself again. On the drive home, though I had just experienced something great, I knew, because of a lifetime of being in this situation before, that this would have been our only experience together.
She texted me five minutes after I left.
Today, I’m still in disbelief. For example, after spending a weekend with her, there’s still a part of me that believes she won’t want to see me again. Every new text from her is just like the first one.
I suppose 15 children and 65 years may improve my confidence.
I always see myself as young and healthy. Back when I wasn’t healthy, I was younger. Now that I’m healthy, I’m older. I never saw myself as overweight. Now, when I look at old pictures of myself, I wonder who that vaguely attractive semi-obese man is, and wonder why my mother never told me I have a second brother with no self control.
Back when I was big, and I saw those same photos, I didn’t see myself as other than skinny. Now, though thin, I refuse to believe I’m aging. My hairline is somewhat receding, yet I’m already using really cheesy middle-aged-man-methods to try to cover it up. I clip the front of my hair to make it try to blend in better. I brush my hair forward. I wear hats. I’m just kidding about the hats. I hate hats.
I believe God gave me the option of either youth or health, but never at the same time. Imagine if I had been young and healthy. I would have been married by age 18. That actually would have led to way more problems. In a way I’m glad I’m just now getting my life together.It helped me realize how bad things can get and appreciate how far I’ve come. If I had settled down by age twenty, I would have never realized what it’s like to really hit rock bottom, and wouldn’t appreciate anything, including my wife. Today, I appreciate my girlfriend more than anything, and I believe this is part of the reason. For ten years, I couldn’t even get a second date. Now, not only did I get a second date, but I’m on the cusp of starting a new life with someone who I wouldn’t have even imagined saying ‘hi’ to just two years ago.
However, I am still aging. My hair will fall out. My hip, which was just diagnosed with dysplasia, will give out. I will eventually care if my taxes get raised. I’m not a child anymore, and I really have no room to mess around. I can’t really sleep in anymore unless I’m sick, and even then, I really can’t. I can’t go to McDonalds everyday anymore. I can’t build forts anymore, because my sheets no longer have cartoons on them, so they would just end up looking like tents.
Without knowing how to properly allocate my income, I often find myself spending a lot of money on shampoo and then suddenly find myself without power, running water, or any form of insurance whatsoever.
How am I supposed to know how much money I’m supposed to spend on different things? Walgreens has 28 different types of shampoo, and I need them all for my hair to smell nice! Car insurance does not in any way make my hair smell nice!
I need to hire a financial advisor, unless that’s not what a financial advisor does. Now I will need money to pay someone to tell me what a financial advisor does. And eventually I will need someone to tell me where I can find a financial advisor-advisor.
Anytime I come across something I think I need, I spend money on it. If I can’t see it (insurance, car payments, psychic hotlines), it’s a lot more difficult for me to justify payments. I need instant gratification. I don’t even like ordering takeout or going to the grocery store. I want to pay for food and immediately eat the food. I’m not going to pay for something and then wait to make it myself. I’ve come too far in life to remember how to make something from other things.
So, as my life progresses and I begin to take on new responsibilities, I really need to know how to spend my money more wisely. When I was little, I had a plan to save all of my money once I got an adult job and wear really trashy clothes and eat really cheap food until I had enough money to buy a tuxedo. Basically, the tuxedo was the ultimate sign of success. I still do not have a tuxedo. I have so far to go.
One great indicator that my life is finally on the right track is actually very subtle. It’s something that is difficult to pick up on at first glance, but after years of not caring about my appearance, having low self-esteem, and weighing about 100 pounds more than I should, I’ve been able to notice the indirect ways that people react to me.
A few years ago, when my life was out of control, people were still nice to me. I was still awesome. I was really nice and funny and had a pretty good personality, so people weren’t really mean to me. However, I would still get The Look. That brief glance that was about 90% pity and 10% aversion. I was still pretty good at talking to women, but if I ended up talking for too long, or went off on a tangent, or got too close, I would end up getting the look, meaning, ‘alright you’re pretty nice, but I’ve reached my quota for you and do not want to look at your fat, sweaty face anymore.’ I eventually was pretty aware that the look was eminent, and once it arrived, I was already gone.
I think I need to revise the last paragraph. I was not good at talking to women. I could maintain a conversation for about five minutes. In my mind, these five minutes were going great, when in actuality, I was flailing my arms, screaming, and had really yellow teeth, which has nothing to do with my conversation style, but didn’t help, either. After five minutes I would either just stare at her nervously or walk away.
Now I still get the look, but it’s completely different, because I’m awesome now. People aren’t disgusted by me anymore. When I smile at a stranger and say, ‘hi’, they don’t squint their eyes and immediately start walking in the opposite direction despite the fact that they’re already five minutes late to see their dying grandmother. They smile and say, ‘hi’ back like I’m a goddamn normal person.
This isn’t just due to my weight loss. It’s a complete lifestyle and partial personality change. My mannerisms are even quite different. Of course, it is far better to be unique and not conform to what people respond favorably too. However, I am too weak-minded to not conform. I must be liked.
Growing up, I used to love watching trashy daytime talk shows. I missed most of 9th grade pretending to be sick so that I could watch as much Jerry Springer as possible. I couldn’t put my finger on why I liked it so much, other than how unbelievably awesome it was. Then I realized, it wasn’t the fighting, or the outrageous storylines, or even Jerry’s Final Thought. I loved seeing people worse off than me. No matter how bad a day I was having, or how bad I thought my life was going, at least I wasn’t a middle-aged overweight man convinced that I was a dog for the entertainment of a masochistic, older, sex-crazed woman.
It may sound bad, but it’s somewhat therapeutic knowing that there are those worse off than you. I think the word for this is ‘schadenfreude’. There’s a limit, however. I don’t enjoy watching people suffer or die, and I do not like when anyone I love or care about is in pain. Aside from that, pretty much anything goes. I like it when I’m driving down the highway and I see that a police car has just pulled over another car for speeding. I like it when I see another couple yelling at each other. I like it when I get the last cookie at the deli in my office. We all need some motivation and self-assurance in the fact that we are not the most miserable people on earth.
After many failed dates and rejections, I needed a confidence booster in that same vein. I thought about showing interest in women that I wasn’t interested at all, just so I could receive some sort of acceptance from someone. However, I figured that this was too cruel, especially knowing how painful rejection can be. Instead, I gained a little bit of confidence knowing that even though the women I sort of had interest in didn’t reciprocate the feeling, a few that I didn’t have interest in at least seemed to enjoy my company. And then I hit the jackpot. I won $10 from a scratch-off lottery ticket. And then I redeemed my jackpot. And then I bought a sandwich. And then I hit the metaphorical jackpot and met the woman I will spend the rest of my life with.
There’s no real lesson here, and most of my ‘lessons’ are impractical and may even get you killed.
Murphy’s Law states something like if something bad will happen, it will, or something like that. I’m not really sure, because if I look it up, it will depress me more. I don’t know who came up with it (I’m assuming Murphy) or the rationalization/science behind it, but from what I’ve experienced, it only comes true if you believe that it will come true.
If you think that you will never find someone, you won’t. If you believe that not buying rental car insurance is going to cause you a lot of pain, it will. If you don’t look at the expiration date of that gallon of milk, you will die. If you have no expectations, then nothing will let you down. I’m not telling you to always be optimistic, because that would be ridiculous. You would always be disappointed. Also, you should obviously not always be pessimistic, or else you won’t make it through your day. I’m telling you, that in most situations, have no expectations. See what life comes up with for you. Whenever you make plans, you’re setting yourself up for either disappointment or severe disappointment.
Blind dates are a perfect example of this. Don’t go expecting defeat, because you will then be defeated. Also, don’t go in expecting marriage, because you will then also be defeated. Go in expecting to have a beer and some food with a nice lady, because that is exactly what will happen. There is usually no such thing as instant gratification. Everything good takes time. Treat a date as an extension of your life. It’s not a gamble where you have to put all of your chips (or money) into one event. Win or lose, it’s just another night of your life. I used to take every date to heart. Everything was calculated. If I didn’t like her, I was disappointed, and if she didn’t like me, I was devastated. That is no way to live life.
You are going to eventually die. That is the only concrete thing that you should expect. What happens before then is due to a lot of factors, the least of which are what you think will actually happen. The only exception is if you’re President of the United States. If you are this person, you have been planning that shit for a very long time. However, thousands of other people also planned to be this person, but failed, and will probably never be. Obviously, a lot of other people have also worked hard towards goals and eventually achieved them. I’m sort of lost and am contradicting myself now, but just don’t give yourself unrealistic expectations, okay?