Last weekend I had an encounter that basically nixed everything I said in the previous post. Sometimes, a chance meeting means nothing. Or maybe it means “Naaaaaaaaah.”
Crazy weekend two weekends in a row.
I am watching the movie Serendipity for the first time, drinking some shiraz. I know the movie was made in 2001, but I’m not a big fan of chick flicks. I wouldn’t be watching it now if not for a slight twist of fate.
My friend brought over Anchorman for us to watch and left her DVD bag for me while she’s on vacation. I flipped through it and saw this movie and remembered an e-mail from several years ago. The word “serendipity” was used and I knew the writer of the e-mail had watched this movie (the type who liked to quote from movies), but also felt the use of the word was apt.
I’ve always been a big believer in Fate and in Serendipity, much to the annoyance of one of my best friends. She doesn’t seem to understand how a self-proclaimed logical person can believe in something so ungrounded in logic as Fate. It’s essentially the same as believing in God, which I don’t believe in.
Part of the quarter-life crisis is questioning wtf I am doing with my life. Where do I see myself in x years? What do I want out of life? What are my goals? Who do I want to be? Who do I want to be with? These questions have gotten increasingly difficult to answer and I have no idea why, I’m not a complicated person.
Sometimes people think I’m a planner, that I have an idea of who I want to be and what I want to do bound tightly to a time-line. I’m not. When I think of myself in the universe, I float in the sea of Fate. And I kind of blindly trust that it will take me where I’m meant to be. But now I’m starting to question this.
My parents visited me for a week and left this morning. They asked me questions that I ask myself. I told them that I don’t know, I just have a vague idea. That didn’t satisfy my mom, especially wrt my romantic life. How do people make it work? One day I will have the answers, right? At least some answers?
One of my recurring dreams deal with zombies (I had posted this before). I’m always in crappy situations (a house with lots of windows & doors that don’t lock).
Last night I had one and it was so vivid. I managed to escape to a safe area where there were lots of people waiting for buses. I met two other people I recognized. One girl (I forgot who it is now) and a guy I knew from high school (who was a huge nerd and who I had a huge crush on). I remember we were waiting for a bus to take us to safety and the girl and I both had to use the bathroom.
The “bathrooms” were random things. Like an old car that the girl got into and drove off in. I waited for the porta-potty one. I woke up when it finally freed up and I got in. When I woke up, I felt as if zombies had invaded that field everyone was waiting and the girl got away safely. I don’t know about me, as I was in the porta-potty.
WTF is up with me and these fucking zombies? I am pretty sure there was ever a zombie attack, I’d be the first to die. I’m a slow runner, I have little strength, I suck at hiding, I have horrible observational skills, etc.
I want to get a puppy so badly, preferably a pug. But I know I’m not ready. I need someone to take care of me, like a wife.
I am telling myself that I only want a dog so badly because I am a bit lonely and that is a horrible reason to get a dog. I should get a dog because I can provide that dog with the best life ever. And right now, I sometimes eat cookies for dinner.
One day, I will so get my act together and that lil pug puppy will be mine!!! FUREVAH!!!
Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about love and the concept of “soulmate.” I kinda believe in soulmates, but my logical side makes the whole thought depressing. To believe in soulmates, you basically need to believe that each person has a unique soul and there’s a “mate” out there for our unique soul (a key & lock situation). However, there is essentially an infinite number of souls (past, present, future). So the chances are infinitely small that our “soulmate” is someone within an acceptable age range & someone we’d find attractive.
As well, having broke up, recently, I’ve been thinking about love. I’m a realistic optimist. While I believe that there is someone out there that is the “whole package and a bag of chips” for me, I don’t think it’s possible. I’m starting to wonder what happens if each old love we pass on with their one irresistible quality is the last time we’ll encounter that irresistible quality.
What do I mean? Let’s say the first person you date matches you so well in your personality and interests and likes, etc. You two are attached at the hips, best friends, can probably live happily ever after forever. But then you get this nagging thought that something is missing. There’s no *passion*. That spark that makes your heart race when you see them.
So things end. And then you find a second person that has this spark. Things are so crazy, so up and down, and it’s like a drug. But there’s something missing again. There’s no stability, no security, no trust. Both people are unwilling to fully let go, to be vulnerable.
So things end. But what then? We’re just human. How on earth would it be possible to find someone who is your best friend, with whom you have passion, and whatever stability is necessary for a long lasting (dare I say…forever?) relationship?
And now I’m thinking, this is it. There is no the package. My soulmate is most likely dead or not born. And the people who I loved and let go of, it’s gone. Whatever fantastic quality they had that I fell in love with is also gone. I won’t find it again, I had it and passed it. I keep looking for that bag of chips.
My parents have a horrible relationship. I know they’ve never been in love with each other. And my mom tells me it’s because she kept waiting for that one guy with everything. But then she got too old and everyone had married off. Same thing with my dad, probably. And then there were two.
I don’t want this to happen. I don’t want my parents’ marriage. Don’t get me wrong, they are great parents, but their marriage is barely functional.
Today I stumbled upon a news story about Phoebe Prince. A 15-year-old who committed suicide as a result of bullying. Her bullies were charged with various offenses and the mother of one bully defended her daughter.
Some of my close friends know I was bullied a lot in grade 5-7 in middle school. It did play a large role in the person I’ve become. And I mean that in a positive way. I coped, I toughened, I cried and dealt with it. I can also understand if others can’t do the same. At the end, I can honestly say I’ve come out much stronger. My attitude now is “Who the fuck cares how other people expect me to act/look?”
Obviously, I care what my bosses think of me. But my bosses aren’t bullies, they are very supportive people and I look to them as mentors. They don’t taunt me or try to make my life a living hell, instead, they impart wisdom.
And to the bully’s mother who claimed her daughter never hit Phoebe. My bullies for the most part never resorted to physical violence. They were awful people who could smell every insecurity, weakness, and doubt I had and exploited it for their own sadistic pleasure.
Girls are the worst. There’s something quite sinister about pretty, young girls. CNN said Phoebe was tormented b/c she was “too pretty.” Well, that definitely wasn’t my case. I was a bit smart, very average looking. To this day I have no idea why bullies targeted me. Maybe I was the lowest-hanging fruit? Little kid me wondered “Why can’t they bully Krista, the girl with the baby arm?” Now I’m glad it was me because - unlike Krista - I had no obvious challenges that I could not change.
What bothers me a lot is that a lot of bullies grow up and blend in seamlessly into society. I look at my peers and I have no idea who was a bully when they were younger. I WANT to know. I don’t want to be friends with them b/c whatever sick, twisted thoughts that existed in their young minds are still there. Only now they know how to hide them.
I joke to people that when I have kids, I will use my parents to homeschool my kids. But I really want to do that not because my parents are intelligent and would do it for mad cheap (both of which are true), but because I don’t want my children to be bullied like I was.
Teachers are absolutely useless. Teachers want to be cool, popular, and well-liked. In order to achieve this, they have to appease the cool and popular kids. And often the cool & popular kids are the pretty, entitled ones who have serious mental issues. Not a single teacher helped me. If anything, they would subtly add fuel to the fire.
And a part of me is terrified my children will be bullies. I want to honestly believe that my baby daddy and I will raise nice kids.
Recently someone tried to claim a lot of his current behaviour was attributable to how he grew up awkward and shy. I told him straight up that it was no excuse as I grew up the same way. He asked me (perhaps insidiously) when I “blossomed.”
The answer? Um. Never. But I guess thanks to my bullies (not really thanks, I’m not that kind, I wish a lot of evil on them even to this day), I have just really accepted myself.
I found one of my biggest bullies in grade 5 & 6. It makes me really, really, really ridiculously happy to see that she’s still living in Rochester, MN and she’s also fat now. It makes me reeeeaaaaaaaaaally happy. The petty, irrational part of me wants to “visit” Rochester just to see her and be all like “Hey, bitch, remember me? Yeah, I look pretty hot now!!!” But before that, I would need to go to the gym regularly for like 6 months, be on a strict diet, and get a total make-over. But you get the point.
I feel horrible for Phoebe. I don’t really believe in God. But maybe in the “next life”, she will have her day again. I wish wish wish I could’ve been there for her. Just given her a hug and told her it will all work out. Just hang in there a bit and it will all work out.
I often have dreams where I battle the undead. Like zombies, animated skeletons, etc. Last night was a zombie dream. It was sooo fucked up. And I’m always stuck in the crappiest houses, like last night’s house had tons of windows and really flimsy windows, too. Plus a shitload of french doors (more glass). And it was our SECOND time around. We survived the zombies once, but they were attacking again so it was last time’s survivors plus a few more people. And for some reason I was the leader. So I delegated tasks like “You guys, check all the doors are secured.” Etc. And I *knew* these people ‘cuz I was like “You’re the leader of this group, I trust you.”
And just as the zombies were about to charge, I woke up. Sometimes I don’t and I think I die. Like the kind where the animated skeletons or zombies get me and they’re about to kill me. So I either wake up or move on to another dream, don’t know.
Anyways, what do these dreams mean? And why can’t I have a STRONG house for once??? Why does it always have to be so crappy? How come I never have any guns? Or bombs? People say you can’t read in your dreams, but I swear to god I’ve read stuff in my dreams. I’ve pinched myself in dreams & it’s hurt before.
Just one goddamn time I want a dream where I’m not battling the undead, mafia, etc. Why can’t I dream I’m rich and all this good stuff?
Life Goals (Alphabetical)
Goals Accomplished
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom. I sent her a Hallmark ecard. I think my relationship with my mother only gets more complicated the older I get.
Maybe one day, we’ll both understand each other.
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove?oid=1473684
At the tail end of the most recent Savage Love, a girl wrote in asking about her bf who wouldn’t have sex with her at all during his defintion of her period. But she didn’t want to to DTMFA (dump the motherf**ker already!).
Dan gave some witty, useful advice as he’s good at and then recommended reconsidering DTMFA if it didn’t work.
I say DTMFA!!! C’mon, woman! Ridic, a girl wanting sex and the guy says no on the offchance there is blood?! The only acceptable excuses I will take is extreme tiredness, physically unable to do so (due to reasons like alcohol, “no more” left, etc), and presence of certain people in nearby rooms.
It doesn’t matter if we’re talking that scene of Carrie, people have *needs* and any responsible, caring lover will respond to those needs.
I think I’ve been extremely lucky so far wrt my sexual partners. I’ve heard enough horror stories from friends (“penis the size of a campbell’s soup can!”) that I am scared to venture into the world. I really believe that if two people aren’t sexually compatible, then there’s no point in pursuing things any further. That’s when you keep things in the “Friend” territory.
Even though my mom is crazy and controlling, she did raise me with a fairly open mind in terms of sex. Then porn and HP fandom helped expand on that. Some credit also goes to the first one, he deserves some thanks.
