Snow Wins Again

My dad is usually a rational man who employs the necessary amount of critical thinking towards a situation.  When I was a child, he could always figure out the solution to whatever problem was ailing me.  He developed an almost Superman-ish aura in my eyes.  Sadly, my dad has his own kryptonite. 

We live in the country.  When it snows and the wind blows, the driveway drift grows.  My dad drives a G8… with sport tires.  Like all great superheroes, my dad is confident in his ability to defeat all villains.  He’ll be damned if Mother Nature and her snow drifts get the best of him, especially when he has somewhere important to go.  He’s also supremely confident in his car’s ability to get him there.

Year after year, it never fails.  At some point, my dad will attempt to power through a wall of snow and the sheet of ice beneath it in our driveway.  In an effort to rectify his mistake, he’ll dig himself deeper and further off the path.  We’ll have to come out and rescue him.  It will always be bitterly cold.  We’ll all vow to take the necessary precautions so it doesn’t happen again next year.  For example, last year’s debacle led to the rule that only my sister and I are allowed to park our cars in the far north bay where you need to back out at an angle and the ground slopes more sharply.

Let’s flash back to a yearly conversation I have with my dad sometime around September.

Me:  So you’re finally gonna get a 2^nd set of tires that perform better in the winter and swap them in when the time comes, right?

Dad:  That’s probably a good idea.

Me:  I think so.  Isn’t that what they recommended at the dealership when you bought the car?

Dad: They did mention that, yes.

Me:  Remember when we had to shovel and push you out of the yard last year?  That was a major pain.

Dad:  My car is just no good in the snow.

Me:  [chuckling] It sure isn’t.

I woke up Sunday morning.  A shudder swept through my body like I was being forewarned about the evils of the outside.  I didn’t know why.  It was Wildcard weekend of the NFL playoffs.  I had absolutely no intention of doing anything other than staying curled up under a blanket and watching football. 

It did dawn on me that others in my family would be braving the elements.  I knew it was snowing a lot over the weekend and I knew the wind was howling.  The thought of reliving my favorite winter pastime with my dad’s car slowly rose inside of me.  I crept to my window and peered out with trepidation of what I might see.  My brother’s truck had pierced a path through the drive with apparently no struggle at all.  I exhaled a huge sigh of relief.  Everybody, including my dad, would be able to safely reach their destination.

That shivering feeling that accompanied my awakening suddenly made more sense.  Of course, I reminded myself, it’s just really freaking cold in my room.  I complain about it all the time.  Don’t believe me?  Well, the following day I noticed some dust building up around the floorboards in the corner of my room.  It was cold to the touch.  Wait.  Dust…cold?  Oh, it’s just frost.  That’s much better.  At least I don’t have to clean.  (Actually, I really do need to clean, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Eventually, I worked my way downstairs for some breakfast I was pretty excited about.  My sister had tipped me off to some new French toast sticks in the freezer.  I used to heat those up all the time as a kid and it had been years since I made some in the oven.   I was practically drooling as I imagined drowning the sticks in syrup and coating the top in cinnamon.

After tossing the sticks in the oven, I strolled to the TV room feeling good about being me.  I stole a glance out the front door and noticed my dad backing out of the driveway.  There was a fleeting twinge of panic, but I had sufficiently stifled my fears earlier. I didn’t linger to see the results.

I queued up the recording of that week’s episode of The Big Bang Theory.  Shortly after, I heard the oven buzzer sound, signaling my golden-brown deliciousness was ready for consumption.  As I passed by the front door again, I noticed my dad’s car in roughly the same position it had previously been in.   No, it can’t be.  This is NOT happening again! 

I immediately conjured up a couple plausible explanations for the sight before me.  Maybe my dad had received a call on his cell.  Being the safe, prudent driver he is, he had decided to pause and take the call rather than doing so while driving in less than ideal conditions.  Or maybe he had stopped after considering that the other vehicles in the drive deserved to have the snow brushed off of them.  He is a very thoughtful person after all.  The driver’s side was obscured from my angle, so it was possible that he was not actually sitting in the car.

What my brain had failed to factor in earlier was the 4x4 capability and higher ground clearance of my brother’s truck.  Just because his vehicle could traverse the terrain, it didn’t necessarily guarantee safe passage for the rest of us.  Cut me some slack; I had just woken up.  The brain cells weren’t firing on all cylinders yet.

As I saw the car’s wheels helplessly spinning and the machine slowly beginning its descent into the chasm, my worst fears were realized.  Thus began an internal struggle.

I knew I should go out there and help.  The man was trying to get to church.  Failure to grab a shovel could be seen as an indirect act against God.  Even though I’m not a particularly religious person anymore, I was raised Catholic.  Some parts of your education, such as the fear of a vengeful deity, never completely fade.  Then the oven sounded again.  Oh yeah, the French toast sticks.  They beckoned me to them.  I opened the front door a crack and the blast of cold air forced me to retreat.  Surely God could overlook the absence of one of his patrons just this once in the face of such extenuating circumstances.

Around this time, my sister came downstairs.  I may or may not have brought attention to the situation unfolding outside in a last-ditch effort to pass off responsibility.  She too realized that some assistance would be the honorable thing to do.  I motioned to my breakfast plate with a longing look that suggested it would be a waste to let the food grow cold.  Fortunately, she is also someone who understands the lure of fresh French toast sticks.  In an effort to seal my argument, I played the injury card.  It had been barely more than a week since my knee surgery.  On 1.5 legs, my effectiveness would be somewhat diminished.  How could she refute my logic? 

My sister relented and bundled up for the task.  Thanks to the helpful folks at Farmers Insurance, I now know that kitty litter is useful for gaining traction in such situations.  We used to have an outdoor/garage cat and a bag of unused kitty litter remains.  I made sure to remind my sister of this before she headed outside.

I felt compelled to play the role of supervisor, so I planted myself by the front door with a watchful eye.  If there is anything worse than busting your ass out in the cold, it’s doing so while someone eyes you from the warm, cozy confines inside.  Regardless of your actual feelings, it is nearly impossible to convey sympathy for those outside.  I made no such attempt.  In fact, I observed with a huge shit-eating grin on my face.  Clutching my plate, I made sure to shovel some food in my mouth whenever my sister’s gaze turned to the door.

After lots of shoveling and a heavy application of the aforementioned kitty litter, my dad tried to gun it to dislodge the car.  Alas, it was no use.  Just when it seemed time to return to the drawing board, my dad floored it one last time.  My sister had assumed her pushing duties were temporarily suspended, so she had since re-positioned herself around the side of the car next to the tire.  The angle was just right.  A collection of snow, crushed silica materials, and god knows what sprayed her directly in the face.

At this point I just about lost it.  My guilt could not suppress the laughter bubbling inside of me.  I had been lulled into a French toast-induced coma and I cackled with glee.  My delight was short-lived, however.  My brain had already begun processing the next steps.  Hey, genius, you do realize whose services will be enlisted if they can’t free that car?

As I tugged on my Sorel boots (which are awesome by the way), I couldn’t help but think how my dad had been bested again by his old foe.  If only I had introduced him to Mr. Plow.

Wisdom from the Fountain of Youth

I came across one of my old high school notebooks the other day.  It was from my British Literature class my senior year of high school. One of our ongoing assignments was a daily journal.  Our teacher, Mr. Preuss, would write something on the board and we had the first couple minutes of each class to respond to it.  The topics ranged from famous quotes to ethical debates to personal interests to the literature we were reading.  It amazes me how profound and wise I was at seventeen.  How come nobody has ever asked me how to solve the bullying problem in schools?

There were several factors that contributed to the writing you'll see below.

• I sat next to my good friend Josh Bult that semester. The mere presence of some of my friends, Josh being one of them, could bring out a different side of me.  The straight-laced, responsible Dave was transformed into a silly, mischievous lemming desperate to validate his place among the group.  Josh has always been a funny, clever guy.  I saw what he was writing for his journals.  I was even a little jealous of it, so I did my best to keep pace.  It's a shame we don't have his notebook for this time travel.
• Being the spring semester of my senior year, my scholastic focus was wavering somewhat.  I felt secure in my academic standing.  Furthermore, I knew that Preuss was a pretty cool teacher.  I felt like I could get away with some especially...creative...writing.  I mean, he was willing to appreciate the liberties we took while destroying portraying stories from The Canterbury Tales the previous semester.  I don't want to suggest that he was a bad teacher though.  He was a good teacher who cared about his students.   
• There was a sneaking suspicion among us students that Preuss wasn't going to read what we wrote, only that we wrote something.  I knew this was a real possibility because I had seen it proven with other teachers before.  In my sophomore Chemistry class, we were often tasked with writing out the definitions of terms from each chapter.   It was your classic definition of "busy work."  Nick Been was convinced that Mr. Sippel [the teacher] didn't read that particular piece of homework and he could literally write anything.  The time to test his theory had come.  After legitimately defining a few terms at the top of the page, Nick revealed to the rest of us that the definition of kinetic energy was not "the energy of an object due to its motion" but rather "Sippel's wife is a fat fuck."  Talk about a pretty ballsy move.  I guess he was pretty sure of himself.  The assignment was turned in and the day of reckoning came.  We all climbed over each other to get a look at the grade and saw a perfect score staring back at us. Flash forward to Preuss' class and I was eager to get some confirmation of our suspicions.

I assure you that the regular-formatted text you see below is taken directly from that notebook - the notebook we turned in for grading.  Apparently, I did care about being a good student at least some of the time.  Some of the entries appear to be serious with real thought behind them.  Naturally, I've omitted those entries.

Nearly thirteen years later, I thought it would be a fun practice to guess the question or quote I think I was responding to.  As you'll see, this was easier said than done in some cases.  It's also entirely possible I was writing about something completely unrelated to the question or quote.  My best guess at this point is represented in the italicized text.

A grade of 37 out of 40 is written in the margin.  I'm not sure if I missed a couple entries or if I was penalized for the actual writing.  Either way, I'm considering it a win.  That's a pretty good score for half effort and I wasn't even punished for anything I wrote.  Who says you can't threaten to ram your first through your teacher's stomach without repercussions?  It must've been my exemplary work on the school newspaper (he was the advisor) and my overall reputation as a good student and kid.

Journal

Jan 16, 2001

Get an A and beat up Josh Bult

What are my goals for this class this semester?

 

Jan 18

One time I had to decide if I should get a Nutty Bar or Zebra Cake. It was an important challenge for me. Both looked so scrumptious. I finally went with the Zebra Cake. To this day, I am still haunted by that decision.

What is the toughest decision I’ve ever faced?

 

Jan 22

I believe the author is trying to say our inner self is the source of what makes us tick. Of course that's total BS. That's why I'm in here.

What are my thoughts on some random quote explaining why we make the choices that we do?

 

Jan 23

I plan to get fat and become a lumberjack. After chopping many trees and getting exceedingly wealthy, I plan to buy the world's slowest race horse. If there's time, maybe world domination?

What are my plans for the future?

 

Jan 26

I disagree with censorship. Everyone has the right to be heard. It's guaranteed in the 1st Amendment. But if I was to become dictator, then I would institute censorship.

Do I agree with censorship?

 

Jan 29

My favorite drama is “The Practice.”  It’s about a law firm, and I like legal matters and such. It’s different from a comedy because it’s not funny.

What is my favorite TV drama and how is it different from a comedy show?

 

Feb 2

Josh is wearing a pretty gay Mr. T t-shirt. He has numerous shirts like that, some more gay than the rest. In conclusion, communism is bad.

What do I think about communism?

 

Feb 9

My favorite movie is Billy Madison. How could you not like a clown who hits the ground and has blood come out of his mouth? Great stuff!

What is my favorite movie?

 

Feb 13

Disagree. These journals are the root of all evil. This incessant, totally unnecessary writing is leading me down the lonely, unsatisfying road of becoming a lighthouse keeper.

Is money the root of all evil?

 

Feb 14

My favorite Valentine's Day memory can be summed up in one line: "Do you like stuff?" No questions please.

What is my favorite Valentine’s Day memory?

 

Feb 19

I can't explain the quote since I think the exact opposite is what I believe. I like people by how good they are to me. Call me crazy but I would venture most would agree.

What are my thoughts on some random quote about treating everyone equally?

 

Mar 6

As an ex-convict, I'm inclined to say yes. Situations dictate actions. Sometimes you can't be held responsible for your actions. We have laws because of some fat cats in Washington.

Can all actions be forgiven?

 

Mar 7

They must avoid killing each other. I can't stress that enough. It has deteriorated into nothing more than vapid idiots mindlessly droning on about stuff.

What are the problems with people in society today?

 

Mar 13

Everyone steals whether they believe it or not. Stealing doesn't have to be materials or money. It can be people's ideas, etc. Liars believe everyone steals because they wouldn't lie otherwise.

Do I know anyone who is a liar or a thief?

 

Mar 14

Coolidge only says that because he wants to. It's difficult but not for Coolidge. It's important to listen to me when I say that this journal is exceedingly long.

What are my thoughts on a Calvin Coolidge quote about listening more?

 

Mar 16

It's about a girl named MacBeth and her adventures in a wonderful magic land. There's probably some dragons and magical sorcerers.

What do I think MacBeth is about?

 

Mar 19

No. Money is more important than discipline. Some of the most respected hobos have incredible discipline but does anyone care?

Is having discipline more important than money?

 

Mar 21

Weiner! Any man who relents to his wife should be shot. Preuss, write the damn journal right!

Should a man ever let his wife be in charge?

 

Mar 22

I don't understand therefore I can't. I'm just gonna guess it has to do with Avon.

Can I explain the power women have over men?

 

Mar 23

They should be viewed as cowardly. They should fight and die.

How should we view people who surrender in battle?

 

Mar 26

MacBeth will kill Duncan and Duncan's ghost will float to heaven but get lost.

How will MacBeth end?

 

Mar 28

Preuss, I hope you leave enough room for my fist because I'm going to ram it into your stomach. Stop whining! You lack discipline!

How did I enjoy reading MacBeth?

 

Mar 30

He will offer them up as sacrifices and eat their still-beating hearts. LED ZEPPELIN- And that's the end of that chapter.

What do I think Grendel (from Beowulf) will do with the people he captures?

 

Apr 3

I really can't divulge that information to the likes of you Preuss.

What is my best kept secret?

 

Apr 4

I think there will be a bombing, starting WWIII. Everyone will be blown away to smithereens and life as we know it will cease to exist.

What will happen in the next 10 years?

 

Apr 18

Hey Newton, lay off the crack. If you're being attacked, a bridge won't do you much good. Bridges also collapse easier.

What are my thoughts on an Isaac Newton quote about building more bridges?

 

Apr 19

No, it's unnecessary. Friends can be easily replaced. Anyone who says otherwise should be lynched in a public square.

Is it important to stay in touch with friends?

 

Apr 23

I see myself in a coffin. Lying there. Nothing but a bunch of bones.

Where do I see myself in sixty years?

 

Apr 24

If you spread around happiness, then obviously more people will be happy.

Can happiness be shared?

 

Apr 25

No it's not. I'm sick of this crap Preuss. I've had it up to there *arrow pointing upward* with your sleazy shenanigans.

Is it fair to change the requirements once a project has been assigned?

 

Apr 26

No more journals and a chick with a nice rack and tight ass.

What would I wish for?

 

Apr 27

If you read this you're an idiot! GLAVEN   kgrspmonrvenligrt

Can I get away with writing absolutely anything?

 

Apr 30

Yes, yes he is. Elevation is the key to all things holy and good.

Is a man who always puts himself above others someone to emulate?

 

May 1

Yes I agree with what Josh said. For further details, please consult his notebook.

What do I think about the investment opportunities in the Pacific Rim?

 

May 2

Look at that vein on Preuss's neck. It could bulge any second now. Preuss has been developing quite the temper lately. God help us all!

What am I thinking about at this very moment?

 

May 3

I say kill a few swiftly and violently. Once other bullies see this, they are sure to cease their bullying ways.

How would I handle the bullying problem in schools?

 

May 4

Tina won "Survivor: Australian Outback." Colby's a fool for not bringing Keith along. I'm the ultimate survivor.

What is happening on a TV show I’m watching?

 

May 7

Obviously Lao. You can't go anywhere without stepping once. Great quote chief. Who wants to go 1000 miles anyway?

What are my thoughts on a Lao Tsu quote about taking a single step and 1000 miles?

 

May 8

Bowling. Me fat, no like to run

What is my favorite activity?

 

May 11

No. Look at me. I will not submit to the popular facets of society that have corrupted today's individuals and rocked its very foundation.

Is being popular the most important thing?

 

May 14

Now that ain't got nothin to do with the amount of no learnin I has gotten. I'm a teached man who knows good, good, good things about the ways of the world. I knows my plusing and minusing tables. No foolin.

Do I think that education is the key to success?

 

May 16

My brain. Let all revel in my glory and intelligence. Many idiots may now live a normal life.

What is my best attribute?

 

May 17

Why can't these journals end? Well, I'll just have to kill myself.

What are my thoughts on these journals?

 

May 18

A little thing called Prom...duh! Is this the last of the beloved journals? Beloved? Shutup brain. NO MORE JOURNALS

What are my plans this weekend?

A Simple Choice

I have two options to choose from for all you single people out there. Which one would you choose?

1. You are guaranteed to live another sixty years with no major health problems.  However, you will be alone that entire time.
2. You have the chance to find true love but it's just that - a chance.  You also have no life assurances.  You could marry your true love and die the next day.

I’ve fiddled with this entry over and over, trying to get the tone and message just right. I fear that pieces of it will be misinterpreted. Sections have been removed. I also wholly acknowledge that some of the remaining parts will sound like some cheesy after-school special. When I mentally considered this passage, visions of grandeur danced in my head. It turned into what seems like a lot of recycled material. Maybe I need a break from writing.

If someone tells you they aren’t looking for a relationship right now, there is a 90% chance it’s a lie, by my calculations. Furthermore, the 10% of truth-tellers will change their minds in a little while once they get over whatever they’re recovering from. The lie is a defense mechanism. I should know; it’s what I did. The pursuit of companionship is an innate drive built into the minds of most people. You can fight off the feeling for a long time but it’s ultimately a battle you cannot win.

My plea has never really changed. Just once, I want to experience what it feels like to have someone chasing after me. I want to be reassured that I could inspire those feelings within someone. Guys often brag about being a ladies’ man, but all I’ve ever wanted to be was a lady’s man. Why can't I ever meet a girl who sees me differently than all the rest? If one person, just one, could fall for me, there could be others. I’d have the confidence to take some more risks if that relationship fizzled out. A ‘no’ wouldn’t feel so demoralizing because the next opportunity would be right around the corner. That’s what I keep telling myself.

I know this is where you're going to tell me that it's on me to rewrite the course of my future. I can't argue with your advice. The thing is, when you’ve only known one way for your whole life, you begin to accept that as gospel. You shrug your shoulders and believe that’s just the way it is meant to be. I can personally vouch that acceptance gets a little bit easier with each passing day, month, and year. It’s a very slippery slope. Even if you do eventually gain traction, you might find yourself looking up the mountain, very far from where you want to be.

The best way to explain my paralysis is that I'm too content in my comfort shell. Things aren’t exactly what I had dreamt of for myself but they aren’t all that bad. I'm getting by just fine, and yet, I can’t help but feel there should be something more. It’s like I'm in the Truman Show, except I'm acutely aware of the world outside my bubble. I'm just too scared to rock the boat and sail beyond the shallow waters for fear of losing everything I do have.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange

I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change

My friend Tom believes there is no point to making friends out of girls at our age. There are only two potential outcomes that are worthy of our time and effort he suggested: either they're someone you can sleep with or they're someone you can spend the rest of your life with. If you're really concerned with having some female friends, they will be part of the package by default when you find a woman that falls into the latter category. If I'm to buy into his theory (and it's starting to make sense), then I should just ask a girl I have interest in. If I lose a friend or things get weird between us, so what?

When it comes to finding someone, I used to operate under the premise that no publicity is bad publicity. If people read about you, they are conscious of you. If they are conscious of you, they start thinking about you. If they start thinking about you, there is a chance they could think favorably of you. If they think favorably of you, there is a chance it could lead to something more, be it a friendship or relationship. At least that was the line of progression I had always mapped out in my misguided mind.

After calling attention to my plight on Facebook in yet another desperate cry for attention, my friend Josh scolded me. Talking about being alone isn’t going to make you any more desirable, he posited. His analogy was this: No one walks into a dealership and asks for the car nobody else is buying. I couldn’t refute that logic; it just made so much damn sense. It was as if I needed to hear it put in those exact words for something to click. At that precise moment, I vowed to stop advertising my relationship status to the world and I think I’ve followed through on it for the most part. (I realize pieces of this post contradict that statement but this doesn't count. Why? Because it's all a necessary foundation for where I'm going.)

His car analogy reminded me of a conversation amongst fellow girl-seeking cohorts from roughly a decade ago where one of the participants likened girls to cars. His theory was that you can’t expect to buy a [insert fancy, expensive car here] immediately. You start with something cheaper, get some mileage out of it, and trade up. You repeat the process as many times as necessary until you acquire the dream car.

So I’m supposed to find somebody, anybody, and keep my eyes open for the next best thing? I can't convince myself that is the proper course of action. Then again, women probably do the same thing. Furthermore, I do see one valuable takeaway that doesn’t scream sleazy, and it ties in with Josh’s point from above. People do sub-consciously want what they can’t have. If you’re off the market, logic dictates that it’s probably for a good reason. At the very least, it’s probably for a reason that others might also buy into.

I don’t want to start dating just anyone though. I’m 30 now. I simply don’t have a lot of time to waste on someone who isn’t “the one” nor do I want to. So yeah, I guess I’m saying I’m looking for the next, and hopefully last, girl in my life. That’s the kind of bold commitment statement that would scare some people off. Easy there, folks. I’m not going to toss out an “I love you” on the first date. I’m merely acknowledging that anyone I'd consider dating has the kind of long-term potential I’m looking for. Shouldn’t they feel honored?

I’m not a subscriber to the theory of love at first sight. You start out liking a person you know nothing about by being physically attracted to them. Shallow perhaps, but true. You begin to like them a little more when you discover common interests and outlooks on life. You grow to truly love a person through time when you discover their secrets and their little quirks - the things not everyone else knows about. You might not even be aware of the feeling at first. Then you wake up one day and you’re totally enveloped in it. You probably can’t even pinpoint where it started. All you know is that you wouldn’t go back to the way things were before you met her. Finally, you know the love is built to last when you go through a major fight and come out the other side still wanting that person as much as ever. I don’t know if that is how love really develops; I’ve never experienced the feeling myself. I can only postulate a theory and that’s what I’m going with. Or maybe I’m channeling one of my favorite movies – Good Will Hunting.

Part of me thinks I’ll say yes to the next girl that shows any interest in me whatsoever. She could even treat me like shit and I would still bend over backwards for her because I’ll believe she is my only and last chance for love. Then I’m shaken back to my senses. I’m too strong-minded to weakly roll over and submit like that. History has proven I’m not afraid to be alone, so I’ll jump ship if I have to. I know I deserve someone who is going to make me as happy as I hope to make them. I don’t want to settle for good not great. Of course, if she asks me to co-own a fantasy team with her or give her advice for her own team, then all bets are off. I might just propose on the spot.

In high school and college, I never expected to get a lot of action. I’ve never been a huge party guy. My general aversion to engaging in reckless activities didn’t exactly put me at the top of people’s wish lists. I bided my time because I knew my day was coming. I wasn’t the guy they wanted but the guy they were going to want. They just didn’t realize it yet. I’m stable, reliable (as long as you accept my usual tardiness), and drama-free with a modest dash of humor and smarts, if I do say so myself. Parents love me. I’m the kind of guy you could bring around and not feel one bit ashamed about. Basically, I’m the perfect guy for a long-term relationship. Alright, I’ll stop before this sounds any more like a dating profile. Still, if all of this doesn’t sound appealing in your mid-to-late twenties, then not even I can provide a life vest for your sinking ship. I hear the North Atlantic in early April is a delightful time for a swim if you’re interested.

Perhaps women want a challenge and they don’t see that opportunity with me. They see a nice, boring guy and wonder what exciting depths they could possibly reach. I would assure them there is more going on than they think and a relationship with me would certainly present its own unique set of challenges.

A few years ago, as I was lamenting the continued success of jerks in the dating world relative to my own, I came across a random article denouncing my asshole counterparts. I saved one snippet in particular with the hopes that one day I could incorporate it into a blog entry. The writer is Linda Holmes and she tries to rationalize why women sometimes choose the guys they do. It didn’t exactly make me feel better but I did gain an appreciation for what I’m working against.

It’s not that women really want jerks, exactly. I think it’s a matter of mistaking emotional clutter for emotional complexity. Here’s an analogy: Imagine a messy apartment. You walk in, you survey your surroundings, and there’s an incredible quantity of stuff lying around. Books in tall stacks, Chinese food containers in the corners, DVDs in and out of boxes scattered around the TV… the place is in chaos. And while you wouldn’t really want to live there, there might be some part of you that would look around and grudgingly admit, “There’s a lot going on here.” Now, imagine the same apartment, once somebody has managed to get it cleaned up. The books are on the shelves, the trash is thrown away, the DVDs are alphabetized. This is a much nicer place to live. But it’s a little… you know, boring. And that’s in spite of the fact that the same books are being read, the same food is being eaten, and the same DVDs are being watched. You’re just in the presence of a person who knows how to clean up after himself.

I’d love to ask a question to all the women that know me and consider me a friend. Knowing everything you know about me, my history, and my current situation, am I someone you would respect enough to consider dating? Because you have to respect your significant other for the relationship to have any merit. Obviously this question is strictly hypothetical. Many of the women I’d pose this question to have boyfriends of their own. Out of respect to our friendship, I’ve refrained from asking and putting them in an uncomfortable situation. Besides, I’d only want to ask them if they could promise me an honest answer. I would insist upon it. I want to know what my shortcomings are. I have an idea but I need to hear it out of somebody’s mouth.

I'd also love to know if there's ever been someone that wished I had made a move on them. I’d want to learn when and where I messed up so I don’t repeat my mistakes the next time. None of these answers will help me with anybody I’m currently interested in because they’ve already judged me, fairly or not. The answers will help me grow as a potential suitor for the next girl though. It’s all about being better than I was the day before.

I do want to prove to the female population that they’re missing the boat on me though. I want to open their eyes so they can see the person I see when I look in the mirror during a quiet moment alone. The surprising fact is that I have always considered myself someone worthy of being in a relationship. I’ve always had the tools in the toolbox. I just don’t know how to use them. I’ve always felt like all I need is a little confidence. Confidence sells. How can I ever expect a woman to think I’m worth it when I don’t even believe it myself? At the very least I should be able to pretend like I’ve got the confidence. Maybe I can fake it until I make it. Mark Twain once said, “It’s easier to fool people than it is to convince them they’ve been fooled.”

As avid followers of this blog are aware, I’ve dabbled with online dating profiles in the past – Zoosk, Match, OkCupid. I never really committed to it though. Oh sure, I filled out entire profiles, mostly because I just liked writing, especially about myself. As I trolled through one uninspiring profile after another, I began to wonder if I just have ridiculously unrealistic standards and expectations. I have some standards, to be sure, but they weren’t the reason I couldn’t find anyone. My heart simply wasn’t in it. I was viewing but not really looking. I haven’t tried very hard to find that special person and I’ve never really opened myself up to letting that person into my life. I said I wanted someone but I wasn’t prepared to make the sacrifices such a statement signifies. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was confusion, or maybe it was laziness.

Half of my heart is a shotgun wedding to a bride with a paper ring

Half of my heart is the part of a man who’s never truly loved anything

You too may have heard adults from the previous generation accuse us of growing up with a false sense of entitlement. I begrudgingly have to agree with them even though their hand in this epidemic is stained as well. When you present children with awards for simply participating and promote equality in everything we do, you cultivate a society of mediocrity and false expectations.

OK, that was an unexpected little detour. I just always expected that my traits would shine through and fate would intervene accordingly. I’m coming to learn that you really do get what you give. When I look in the mirror and be brutally honest with myself, I have probably gotten exactly what I deserve when it comes to relationships. That doesn't mean I'm going to change, only that I'm admitting I've been wrong. Isn't that the first step towards recovery?

A little-known fact is that my success rate with obtaining dates is actually pretty high. Many times when I’ve asked I’ve received an affirmative response. I could not begin to explain why that is the case. One possibility is that I’ve usually only asked when some groundwork has already been laid (often by someone else) and the outcome is less in doubt than one might expect. You would think my past success, no matter how limited, would be a springboard to additional opportunities. Girls have said yes to me in the past so the confidence should have been there all along. I don't know why it hasn't been and still isn't.

Are there a couple people I know now that could be possibilities? I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. However, I need to keep reminding myself that if I was boyfriend material to them, I would have known about it. There are plenty of people from my past and even some from my present I’ve wondered “what if” about. What if things went differently that one time? What if I pushed the envelope a little more? It’s interesting, maybe even fun, to fantasize about how different your life could be as you play out different scenarios in the “what if” game. But you’ll drive yourself insane if you spend too much time playing. Forget the “what if” and focus on the “what is”. All you can do now is make the best decision based on the information you have at the time.

It’s funny though. You get to know a woman and become friends with them. As you learn more about them, sometimes you want something more. The problem is you’ve often been relegated to the dreaded “friend zone” by that point. It has brought many a potential relationship to a screeching halt. Isn’t it ironic that our relationship chances with women often decreases as our familiarity increases?

Even though I’ve been single all this time, there has been a flame of hope burning deep down inside of me. Oh, the flame has flickered, but it has never been extinguished. My hope is born from the belief that any second something amazing can happen. The right woman will walk into my life and tie everything together. I know that sounds sappy and you’re probably rolling your eyes right about now, but I don’t care.

 

I might have to wait, I’ll never give up

I guess it’s half timing and the other half’s luck

I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t give up hope despite the odds and history suggesting otherwise. I’m perpetually late, so being forced wait on a woman may be the universe's way of paying me back. I just have to trust that she's finding her way to me as fast as she can. I'll be ready and the wait will make me appreciate her arrival that much more.

Hope can guide you through some troubled times. I need it to keep me going and battle my depression. People must be asking themselves, what could I possibly have to feel depressed about? I have a loving family, a stable job, no outstanding debt (for now), and my health. That is just a subset of the many things I have to be thankful for. And yet, I dwell on my loneliness all the time. Whenever my mind isn't focused on work or an activity I'm engaged in, it's all I'm thinking about. That's why being invited out means so much to me. It's a chance to step outside of my head for a while. Problems are all relative I guess. If I was worse off financially or physically, I’d have a whole different set of problems to fixate on that would trump what pains me now.

Maybe that's why I haven't been more proactive in moving out. I can picture it now: sitting alone in a big house by myself, left to my own thoughts. In my current living situation, I'm at least forced to interact with people.

Most days I can suppress the sadness without any indication of my underlying mood, but on weaker days it bubbles to the surface. Suddenly everyone is grilling me. Co-workers want to know - what’s wrong with Dave? They immediately assume something horrible has happened. Can’t they just let me be? Sometimes I just want to feel sorry for myself and don’t feel like putting on a show that day. It’s difficult to constantly hide behind a veil of lies. It’s even more difficult to try and explain your way out of the sudden, unwanted attention you receive without exposing your true feelings.

I am nothing more than a little boy inside

That cries out for attention yet I always try to hide

I’ve always viewed depression as something that could easily be remedied by a hug or a swift kick in the ass, depending on the person’s personality. I guess I shouldn’t pretend to be a psychiatrist though. They do make drugs for this kind of thing, but I can’t see myself ever yielding to that solution. I don’t want mind-altering drugs disguising the real me.

Sometimes I really worry about myself. I'd never do anything I would regret for the rest of my life but the constant mental anguish I put myself through cannot be healthy. No matter how times I threaten to stab my brain with a Q-tip it doesn't shut up. I just thank the powers that be for letting me fight through in my own way and come out the other side. I'm still going to have my days of down; we all do. Fortunately, I have gotten a lot better at limiting their duration and bouncing back quicker from them.

I've been able to put the pains and heartbreaks of the past behind. Example? Well, recently I heard the name Kirby and I smiled. Why? Because I realized I hadn’t thought about her for a while until that very moment. Kirby AKA crush #5. I guess I never referred to her by name before, but it feels good to acknowledge her publicly in a turning-of-the-page sort of way. It was a learning experience and it’s become a footnote from my past. If you give time a little time, it does heal everything.

You’ve all learned a lot about me through what I’ve shared with you. It’s been a cathartic process for me even though I'm still searching for the answer to what I truly value in life. I’ve always tried to be honest in my writing and I speak from the heart. I acknowledge that sometimes I may offer up too much but I believe in answering any question from anybody as honestly as I can with as much tact as my wit allows. Sometimes better judgment may intervene and dissuade me from answering, but I like to think I’m pretty responsive when people come asking. I may have inadvertently shooed away some people but I can’t worry too much about the court of public opinion. I just want to keep living it right and trust that I will be judged fairly when it’s all said and done.

I’ve also begun to reassess all my “logic”, specifically with women and relationships. Many of my rules were merely bricks in the fortress of solitude I had walled myself inside. For example, my formulation of the three strikes policy stemmed from a desire to help me figure out which people were worth keeping around in my life and which ones were not. With women, it was always like a secret test I administered. I considered it my own way of pre-screening. I never forgot being scorned at one of my events. I knew they were only rejecting the event but I found a way to make it personal. That was stupid; people are busy and that’s all there is to it. Even if it was personal, it’s not worth carrying the grudge and overlooking the people who do show up.

I’m going to stop trying to make so many rules for love and just try to let it do what it does. I shouldn’t overlook someone because they don’t exactly fit the bill of what I imagined my perfect woman to be. She could be nothing at all like I imagined. Of course, there are certain attributes I’m looking for and certain standards I’d hold her to. However, none of us should be so quick to pigeonhole someone into a certain type of role or prematurely judge someone for the decisions of their past. We all carry baggage with us. It’s just a matter of whether yours can fit in the overhead compartment or not.

During some of my more recent submissions, something else occurred to me. I’m writing this blog for all of the wrong reasons. I often have sneaky motives that an observant individual can identify. In my defense, it’s virtually impossible not to have an “angle” when you’re writing on such a personal level like I have been accustomed to doing. I just don’t want to write about myself anymore…at least not for a while.

I hate to say it but I’ve often felt like there is a direct correlation between my depression level and my blogging. In those moments of vulnerability and despair, I gravitate to the keyboard and churn out what I believe to be my most effective and honest writing. I don’t like the person I have to become in order to be motivated enough to compose something.

This was originally going to be my farewell post but I’ve decided to pump the brakes a little to avoid my own Brett Favre retirement saga. I still enjoy writing and don’t want to close the door entirely on that part of my life. I just can’t promise when, or even if, I’ll post something again. There are too many changes I’d like to make in my life that are hindered by staying at home on a Friday or Saturday night to write.

I see it around me, I see it in everything

I could be so much more than this

So what's it going to be, Dave? Sure I could maintain the status quo but there is a definite ceiling in doing so. Will I break the spell of the typical? It really depends on which day you ask me. I wrote this article over several sittings and my mood shifted from optimistic to sullen and back again. I know it won’t always be smooth sailing but I have to trust that my parents raised me the right way and leave the nest. I know they did. If I’m lucky, I’ll even find a co-captain to help me along the journey. There are a few things I’d like to hammer out before I fully immerse myself in the dating pool but I’m ready to dip my toes in it to get acclimated again. Is she out there? I don't know but I hope I figure it out. I'm ready for the next chapter of my life to begin.

Maybe now I’ve conquered all my adolescent fears

I’ll do it better in my next thirty years

The Shawshank Redemption is another one of my all-time favorite movies. Andy Dufresne said it best: “It comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.”

Advance Days

It's been a little while since I've posted anything not related to fantasy football and, with recaps of recent drafts on the docket, that drought may continue.  I feel compelled to share something that doesn't apply to a small niche of my followers, so I'm taking the easy way out.  Below are writings from my personal journal back in 2006.  (Hey, if you haven't seen it, it's new to you.)  They deal with my feelings towards my first real job out of college.  These are pre-Applied days of course.  I can't promise the writing is all that good or entertaining.  In fact, I can almost promise the exact opposite.  Looking back, I can shake my head at some of the things I wrote.  Still, it's important to see where you came from to truly understand who you are. 

1-24-06

How much longer can I do this?  Only 2 days and I’m already dreading the new job.  Having to drive 120 miles every day is absolutely KILLING me.  My anger rises when I’m in the car and I have to refill my tank every 2-3 days.  I just want to leave but I won’t.  Why?  Because I am better than just about anyone I know at sticking out something I hate.  I went to a college I didn’t really want to be at, and I have stuck around at Sports Authority longer than I wanted. (I’ve outlasted everyone that started when I did.)  I know, that’s not something to be really proud of.

I was just so desperate for a change in my life.  I hated seeing all my friends with jobs.  I hated working with people I knew I was smarter than only to see them earn more.  Another reason for taking the job was to satisfy my parents.  I didn’t want to embarrass them any longer.  They could proudly tell those who asked about their son’s “real” job.  My mom just looked so glad when I came home today and yesterday.  I couldn’t let her down.  I’d also feel guilty about quitting so quickly.  Advance took me in and this is how I repay them?  I’d be branded a quitter.  My dad may also be a new client of the company, which further complicates matters.  It would not be a clean break, and I don’t want to leave the pieces for my dad. 

I guess I just want to find a more ideal situation.  It should not be so hard for someone with my resume. I’m just not good at initiating things – anything – and I have to suffer.  I’m a nice guy and I DESERVE better, but then I realize that nothing is promised to us in the world.  So why don’t I move closer to work?  Because I am thoroughly convinced that I cannot live on my own.  I erred badly not going away to school.  That experience prepares you for life on your own and I missed out.  I’m a small town kid who cannot fathom leaving this comfort zone.  There just has to be a better solution.

 

1-25-06 (Day 3)

So this is what the working world is like?  Granted, it is very premature to form an opinion on the matter.  It just seems like I am here and they don’t need me or are not sure how to incorporate me.  I’ve been doing tedious, mindless tasks.  And that’s when I’m not just sitting there reading and answering the phone.  It’s as if they are merely finding tasks to keep me occupied.  I hate when that happens.  They would do that at Sports Authority.  It makes a worker feel pointless and disenchanted because the pointless work is often dull as well.  Everyone here is settled into their routine.  Perhaps it would be too distracting to train me.  This is a small company so they don’t have this situation too often. I want to learn but they probably do not know where to begin.  I should note that my own computer is being readied.  Perhaps that is the difference maker.  Let’s see how this plays out.

3-9-06

About a month and a half into the job and I’m just not happy.  I’d like to leave but what does my future hold?  I could just bite the bullet and ride this out.  But I’ve always done that and I’m tired of it.  It might be different if I were in a better situation – closer proximity to home or making more money.  Truthfully, the money is fine for what I do, so that’s not a huge issue.  I just can’t help but think that there is somewhere closer where I can be doing relatively the same thing. 

So why not move up here?  It isn’t cost-effective.  I visited an apartment complex and it’s still a LOT cheaper to live at home and commute.  Plus I’m not sure I’m ready.  I truly believe not going away to school stunted my growth.  I visited Tom’s friend Cole and I think to myself how nice it would be to have a place of my own.  I know places closer to home would be cheaper and I would feel a little more comfortable. 

My life is in a dreaded “in-between” phase.  I continually find myself returning to past times.  In reality, I’ve never been happy with my whole life, but those past times were much better by comparison.  Or I find myself fast-forwarding to a situation where I’m established in a job I don’t mind and have a wife or serious relationship with someone.

There’s other little things about this job that all add up.  I don’t feel entirely comfortable around Amber.  There is this silent tension; our personalities just don’t mesh well.  Oh it’s nothing that can’t be handled I suppose.  The reps are all really nice and good to me but I don’t interact with them as much.  I know it would look bad leaving this soon.  But then I think it’s better to do so now before they invest too much into teaching me.  Tom (my de facto boss) took a chance on me and I want to justify his faith in me.  I wonder if I would have to finish out 2 weeks or just end it the day I break the news.  That would be an extremely uncomfortable 2 weeks.

It might look better if I had a legitimate reason to leave.  I wouldn’t want to leave just to be done there.  Perhaps I can find another job that makes more sense for me.  Advance would hopefully understand even if they were upset.  Maybe I could go back to school.  I think my parents have always wanted to see me do grad work.  I’ve always insisted against it because I wasn’t sure it was such a great investment.  I feel that work experience gets you promoted easier than a higher degree.  Grad school ain’t cheap either. 

Furthermore, I have a finance degree, but is that what I really want to do?  If so, what would I even do in that field?  Should I continue to pay money and pursue something I don’t even know I’ll use?  That strengthens the argument to stay here.  In all fairness, I haven’t given this job enough time.  I can’t possibly make an accurate judgment on it just yet.  Still, in the back of my mind, I know I’m getting trained to be Amber and that is really a glorified secretary.  I’m Dave Younker; I’m better than that. 

Now maybe that’s what I have to do to start out in this industry.  If that truly is the case, then it should be under better circumstances.  I HATE answering phones just to send them on to someone else.  It makes me feel so worthless and unnecessary not being able to help anyone.  And then when I try, Amber tells me not to.  All these little suggestions on how to do things are kind of frustrating me.  She’s only trying to help, I know, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t come off that way.  I keep thinking to myself that if she were a doctor, her bedside manner would be horrible. 

I’m also on a tight leash, sort of like  a pet.  For example, I have to tell her every time I need to go to the bathroom.  It’s like I’m back in grade school asking for permission.  You have no idea how demeaning that can feel.  I know, I know, she just has to know so she can answer the phone in my absence.  Part of me feels like she should be able to figure out that I’m not at my desk if I don’t answer after a couple rings.  Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing but I guess I want a little a more freedom.  I like working my way through things on my own.  I’ve always been a little stubborn when it comes to advice.  I’d like a job where I have set tasks to get done by a certain time and they don’t care how I do it as long as it’s done.

This job really does get boring at times.  I’m writing this aren’t I?  Anyway, I’m debating whether to go back to school to become a teacher of all things.  The other possibility is for my MBA.  Teaching is a profession that has always lingered in the back of my mind.  I’d like to run a classroom with my own lesson plan.  I’d prefer to teach social studies or business classes. I’ve never minded the school setting.  Obviously the big drawback of the job is the problem kids you’d have to put up with.  I try to picture myself like all new teachers do as the young, cool guy who can relate to the kids and joke around with them on their level.  I’d be able to coach sports, assuming it were on the junior high or high school level, and that is something I would really enjoy.  Having those summer months off would be really sweet too! 

I’m really trying to project if teaching is something I could be good at.  I could also always keep climbing the ladder towards a PhD.  Then I could teach college where the student-teacher relationship doesn’t mean as much, and you don’t have so many immature kids.  Most of them are there because they want to be.  I remember my teachers at JJC and it just seemed like they had such a great gig.

I wonder how much more schooling I would need to become a teacher.  I need to decide about this quick if I want to start back in the fall.  Part of me laments that I wasted my time getting a finance degree.  I guess it’s something I will always have and can use if needed.  I do wonder deep down if going back to school just an excuse to delay my future.  Am I going to turn into one of those professional students?

 

4-26-06

In another 2 weeks I will be in the exact same situation I was a year ago.  Nothing has changed and basically I’ve wasted a year of my life.  I just gave the 2 week notice for the job I started in January.  Now I’m back to the uncertain status of looking for a job or deciding to go back to school.  I know my parents just want to see me doing SOMETHING.  Being happy with that something is easier said than done however. 

My dad has to be disappointed I’m leaving the job; I’m sure he wants to see me stay.  But it isn’t his decision, it’s all mine.   No more am I going to live my life because it’s what others want.  I just want my parents to be proud of me.  Given my parents’ solid standing in the community, expectations are high. Perhaps I am crumbling under the pressure.  I need to trust my own instincts and navigate these waters myself, right or wrong. 

One such "should I stay or should I go" instance like this that really stands out is my freshman year in high school.  I had signed up for an agriculture class, largely out of pressure from my parents and my schedule advisor (the ag teacher as it happens).  About a week in, I determined that I wanted to drop the class for something else. I was well within my rights; that sort of thing happens all the time with freshmen.  My mom talked me out of it and I stayed in the class because I was the "good son".  I wasn’t really happy and my effort reflected that at times. I ended up getting a ‘C’ one quarter and to this day, that is the only ‘C’ I’ve ever gotten in my entire scholastic career!  When I dig out old records, it sits there, taunting me.

Moving ahead to now, I wanted to leave a couple weeks ago, but my dad talked me out of it once.  Then I remembered that ag class and it gave me some resolve.  I knew I was right back then and I know I’m right now.  I finally worked up the nerve and gave my boss the news.  My usual course of action would have been to ride it out and stay miserable.  I’d be to scared or nervous to do anything about it. Or I’d want to satisfy someone in my life besides myself.  While the future at present is very murky, I hope this is a sign that perhaps I have turned a corner in my life.  Take action and live for me – words I’ll try to start living by.