Oh hello there blog. I always come at this writing thing with a purpose (I'm gonna write about a thing and use these specific sentences!) but when I craft this idea I am usually comically far away from my computer, e.g., in the shower, and when I finally manage to put fingers to keys most of the thing and all of those specific sentences are gone. But I will TRY. Or at least I am going to ramble on anyway.
I have a difficult time relating to normal people. Not normal in an angsty sense, like no one will ever understand me. Normal as in 95% of people have a life experience that is 2 standard deviations from a given mean life experience. And I am somewhere between -5 and -6 on the distribution curve. I'm not trying to whine and it might be slash probably is all in my head but it does not seem to want to go away and is worsening with age.
small examples: when people discuss the music/ballet/sports lessons and camps they went to as children. when people talk about the cartoons and movies they watched as children. in general, over half the time when someone is talking about their childhood, it involves experiences that I never had. I try to chime in when I can but most of the time I am left feeling empty and cheated.
large example: when I meet a charming, lovely boy who ignites little Butterfrees in my belly, who makes me so nervous that I either clam up or say stupid shit and probably sound like a huge jerk but who for some reason likes me anyway. and this boy has probably never even seen a food stamp. this boy's parent's house is ticky tacky and oozing with too much class. I am awkward and don't know how to act. I never relax. I don't want to share the bits of my life because they are shameful. and I either run or scare them off somehow.
These things wouldn't even matter anymore if I didn't spend the first four years of my life after breaking out of whatever just fucking trashing said life.
UPDATE like a million years later (around Sept 2012):
...Oh man. I don't even know what to say here. Embarrassingly, it took me a few minutes to even figure out who the eff I was talking about. Then I remembered M2, who I was momentarily enamored with. He turned out to be asshole. Okay, not an asshole per se, but a lost soul without his shit together. Which leads me to the reason I am revisiting this blog: I do not date people with their shit together. Case in point: my newest paramour, the delightfully hobbitesque C. Seriously, he looks exactly like a 6'3" Pippin, and it's awesome. However, the boy's life is in shambles. Shambles. I am not even using hyperbole; this kid is a mess. So of course I had to have him. Just like M2, and P, and M1, J, T...I have not since my very first love dated a boy who was happy in the direction his life was going. Well, with the exception of T but he was nuts and his boat-apartment didn't even have a bathroom. I wasn't happy with the direction his life was going. aaaaaanyway. What does this say about me? Nice guys, successful guys, guys working on their master's degree or who are enjoying a career seem to be in encased in glass; I can look but I can't touch.
2012/10/16
This is my third try at this particular blog, and I really want to get out whatever I've been trying to say. I should tell you that C ran off with some girl he's batshit crazy for and we don't talk now. Why can't I connect with people who's lives aren't on a downward trajectory? Is it a barrier that I put up? A vibe I give off? I'm kind of concerned with this. It might be different once I graduate and feel less like I'm trying to play catch up with my life. Maybe not. I hope so.
