the search for 'neo'...

28.9.05

whoever smelt it, dealt it.

ouch.

dfk just threw the big D at me

d as in don’t be desperate.

d as in don’t forget to wear deodorant.

d as in duh.

i say all of this with a lil tongue in cheek, afterall it was good advice for her to give.

because she’s right – nothing is a bigger turn off than the scent of desperation.

or at least, that’s what im told.

fortunately i don’t think that i am desperate.

nor do i think that i am carrier for this particular brand of stenchification.

unfortunately that’s usually how stinkiness works – you’re never cognizant of how smelly you are, until someone else calls you out on it.

apparently dfk has taken it upon herself to call me out.

so efff her… im out.

ha.

okay… okay. im totally joking.

i know im not desperate.

and although i find her logic flawed, i do appreciate dfk’s point of view.

because her comment highlights something else that ive been pondering as of late – something that has less to do with my actual sense of self, and more to do with other people’s perception of myself.

in a nutshell, my dilemma relates to relationships, and the game(s) that we play to maintain them.

most people claim to hate the game – in fact many people periodically ‘give-up’ on dating solely because they get sick of playing the game. and who can blame them… who the hell wants to play a game that is dictated by rules that are vague and obtuse at best.

nobody can quantify how many rules there are, nor can anyone agree on what the actual rules are.

they simply know that the rules exist.

and we don’t need to get into the specifics – my philosophy is that rules exist for a reason. its more important to understand the underlying context than it is to understand the letter of the law. because an understanding of the letter of the law will be useless without a deeper grasp of the motivation that exists behind it.

so lets bring this conversation back to the most critical component of any relationship – timing.

many of the informal rules surrounding relationships relate to timing.

how long do you wait to ask someone out?

when should you call them?

is it ok to fuck on the first date?

is it ok to say fuck on the first date?

timing is critical.

timing is key.

timing is everything.

timing is important, but its also part of the game.

and for some reason (as of late) ive given up on playing the game.

don’t get me wrong, im ‘playing’ the game… im just not playing by the rules of the game.

which means that i don’t wait three days to call someone back.

which means that i respond to emails if im excited to receive them.

which means that i try to spend as much time as possible (as soon as possible) with someone that i really like.

which means that i don’t play the game.

and some might say this refreshing.

while others might say that this reeks of desperation.

one way or another i don’t particularly give a shit.

but give a shit or not, ive begun to wonder what other peoples perception of my actions may be.

ive begun to wonder if its possible that ive spoiled potential opportunities by being too readily available...

ive begun to wonder if the perception of desperation is actually the same as being desperate...

ive begun to wonder if ive been secretly exuding the noxious whiff of big d...

are these the right questions to ask... or is this entire train of thought D as in dum? ha!

26.9.05

bear market blues

my baby sister lives in new york city.

she graduated two years ago, and she’s working on wall street.

she’s twenty three years old – intelligent, outgoing, and (much to my dismay) very attractive.

despite her impressive qualities, and outstanding attributes, it came as no surprise to me that she called one day to ‘vent’ about how she cant meet any men.

actually, she called to tell me that she cant meet the ‘right’ kind of men.

the guys she works with are skeezy.

the guys she knows from school are dorks.

and she refuses to meet anyone in a bar.

(apparently the apple doesn’t fall too far from the family tree).

in all likelihood, my sister is over exaggerating.

im sure she meets men. in fact she probably meets a lot of men. in fact im sure she gets hit on by all kinds of men every single hour of every single day.

afterall its ennn why ceee – everyones got game, and no ones afraid to use it.

but my sister isnt interested in game, and the guys who hit on her are not the guys that she would date.

in other words she’s meeting guys, but she’s not meeting the ‘right’ guys.

or more accurately – she’s not putting herself in a situation where the ‘right’ guys get to meet her.

which is absolutely key, if you’re the slightest bit picky, and you refuse to buy into the meet market social scene.

because once you cross bars and clubs off, you’re only left with meeting people at work or at home.

(and lets not talk about supermarket hookups) ha!

so i gave her some simple advice – i told her to diversify.

she needs to DIVERSIFY the portfolio of her life.

join a book club.

sign up for a social league.

volunteer with a charity.

play coed sports.

participate in a church group.

sometimes we need to be reminded that luckdestinygodfate can only take us so far… especially if you’re not willing to meet someone at work, and you’re not willing to meet someone in a bar.

these types of boundaries limit most people to the 'idea' of meeting someone between the walk from their office to their car, and from their car to their apartment.

luckdestinygodfate is good, but its not (necessarily) that good.

my sister is a tad lazy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she heard my advice, but hasn’t heeded my advice.

people are lazy, and she is no exception.

sometimes i laugh at people’s naiveté – i believe in true love's concept of ‘fate’, but i don’t believe that this belief gives me carte blanche to sit in my apartment and wait for my fairy godmother to waver her wand and smack me into my other half.

which is EXACTLY what most people hope/expect to happen.

and i dont think luckdestinygodfate works like that.

which is why im a member of two book clubs.

and i volunteer with three charities.

and i play in two coed sports leagues.

and im training for a marathon.

and im looking for a good church group.

and i still havent found the ‘right’ woman.

and im getting a little worried about it.

but ive diversified my holdings…

and im hoping for a bull market.

booyah.

22.9.05

i said be aloof, not a doof.

this should be my mantra.

instead it’s a cheesy line that ive stolen from a friends episode.

but the way i figure it, if you’re going to steal, at least steal from someone better than you.

which is kinda sad, because that means that some schmucko writer @ friends is better than me.

i bet his blog gets more hits than my blog does.

which isnt hard, considering i get about five hits a day.

two of which are weirdos looking for pictures, and one of which is dfk checking in to see if ive written anything new.

unfortunately more often than not, i haven’t. thats probably one of the reasons that i only get five hits a day.

the other reason is that my writing sucks. ha!

which is something ive decided to try and rectify with this stream of conscious bollocks.

put gas in the tank, pop the clutch and just motor for a couple of minutes.

my mind is frenetic, so hopefully you’ll be able to keep up.

let me know if you cant…

not that i can do anything about that.

those of you who have been consistently reading me for a while (dfk, rejjy jackson, jessies girl, positively, anchored, runjenrun, lm) probably know that i think too much.

this is partly my nature, and partly my situation.

since im on the road a lot, i rarely have anyone to bounce my razzle dazzle off of. instead these thoughts just ping pongs around in my noggin, waiting to explode (like the bullet that bob pops off in the beginning/final scene of fight club).

running certainly helps to keep these thoughts under control.

running helps me to think blank, and burn energy – both at the same time.

im starting to taper, which means im almost at the end of my training.

which is both exciting and scary.

i live for this shit.

but i don’t want to die for this shit.

i feel like a soldier in world war ii – im so close i can almost stick out my tongue and touch it.

soldiers in world war ii accumulated points based on the duration that they were in combat, the activities they performed, their rank, and medals and honors that they received. if a soldier accumulated enough points, they were able to leave europe/asia pac, and go home.

if they didn’t, they had to stay and continue to fight.

soldiers who were close (but not quite) to having enough points usually became tentative because they didn’t want to be injured or killed when they were so close to going home.

i don’t want to be injured or killed when i am so close to running the marathon.

training is basically over, and all i have to do is wait.

which basically translates to think a think.

which is bad news for me, because when i over thinky think, i get into trouble.

not that im not capable of doing that by myself (thinking or no drinking)

i am surely bored.

lately i find myself attracted to the oddest girls – not because its convenient, or because im genuinely attracted to them, but because im bored.

what the hell, i don’t think she’s pretty, but she’s sorta kinda and not terribly boring.

or what the hell, i could seriously mess up my life if i pursue this girl (a different one), but what the hell im bored.

and finally, im not even interested in her, but i like talking to her and making her think that im interested in her, but im not. not because shes boring, or because im bored, but because i just don’t find her attractive.

part of me wants to chastise myself for not finding her attractive.

she’s cute-ish.

who am i to judge her (im sure there’s somebody out there who thinks she’s a hottie).

i just don’t happen to be him.

one of my roommates and i like to point out all the flaws on the girls that we meet.

another of my roommates likes to say, ‘eh, im not perfect either’.

it’s a good point to make, but quite frankly, he’s the slobbier, underemployed roommate who is balding.

part of me wants to say that he should take what he can get.

maybe i should take my own advice.

ive decided to stream of conscious blog this entire week. stop back tomorrow and find out why people should proofread and spell check their blogs before they post.

stop back and find out why i shouldnt blog every day.

~ z always looks so stoic~

7.9.05

bro’s before ho’s

gratuity is money paid for services rendered.

more often than not, this amount of money is directly proportional to the quality of the services rendered – better services often equates to more money, and vice versus.

in reality this is often, but not always the case.

for instance – its almost instinctual to tip a cab driver an extra buck (maybe even two). EVEN THO he’s done nothing more than what he’s supposed to do – driving a passenger from point (a) to point (b). considering that most cabbies usually round my fare up (i.e. ten dollars and five cents becomes an automatic eleven dollar charge), and they’re equally unlikely to help me with my luggage, it still amazes me when i catch myself tacking on an extra dollar to my cab fare.

i guess im just a sucka like that.

its true that i over-tip cabdrivers (a habit that im trying to rectify), but my real ‘sucker-spot’ is over-tipping waitresses and female bartenders.

which isnt unusual or particularly noteworthy – i just happen to be as dumb as the next guy.

theres a reason why successful bar staffs are usually comprised of tube top totin’ twenty three year old females who’s asses are barely poured in to a pair of low-cut paper, denim & clothe jeans – its because guys are dumb.

it’s an undisputed fact that guys like girls.

it’s also an undisputed fact that guys like drinking.

the only thing that we like better than girls and drinking, are girls that go drinking with us.

and if we cant find a couple of those, we most certainly will settle for a cute girl who will pour and/or bring us a drink.

i guess we’re all just a bunch of sucka’s like that.

one of the reason that cute waitresses and female bartenders are so successful is that we [i.e. most guys] STUPIDLY think that tipping (or over-tipping) will SOMEHOW get us noticed by the bar staff. as if showing our gratification, through gratuity, will facilitate and develop a rapport between the vivacious vixen behind the counter, and the sad-sack-of-schlub on the barstool.

maybe im not cute enough, but tipping has never landed me more than an empty wallet and a headache in the morning! (not that i really expected it to)

of course that’s never stopped me from trying. ha!

but who can blame me -waitresses can be VERY persuasive when they want to be.

a waitress or female bartender has several weapons in her arsenal - these ‘talents’ run the gamut from the ubiquitous push up bra and low cut shirt combo, to the sneaky peaky thong that ‘just-so-happens’ to be visible every time she leans over to serve a drink.

god bless’em. ha!

any hottie with a rockin’ body can utilize her assets to pick up bucks from a couple dumb trucks, BUT i genuinely appreciate a waitress who has a little finesse. a little flirtation pays a long way in a crowded bar – and im always impressed by a girl who can sling drinks AND keep the slobbering masses appeased with a little TLC.

any waitress worth her salt has perfected the classic drink touch – a light but consistent touch on the arm while engaging her customer with a smile, some witty banter… and of course more drink inquiries.

i admire the girl who can pull all of this together night-after-night.

its her job to make her customers (me included) believe that she actually cares. its her job to make me believe that all of her attention is directed at me. its her job to do this, when its more likely that she’s more interested in the ongoing drama surrounding of nick lache and jessica simpsons marriage than she is in anyone in her bar.

its her emm effin job – its nothing personal.

its just a game.

these thoughts ran through my head as i chatted up one of the coolest girls ive met in a while. she was a high school friend of one of my roommates, and it was practically impossible not to get lost in her baby blues. her eyes had a way of reflecting her mood (as only blue eyes can) – sparking as she became more animated, and sharpening as she/me/we got drunker and more serious.

cute as a firecracker, and smart as a whip, it wasn’t surprising that i was instinctively drawn to her.

she had an amazing way of engaging me in a conversation – making me the absolute epi-center of her attention. in between overly animated hand gestures, she had a way of touching, prodding or hugging away any awkwardness that existed. even more amazing was her ability to do this with everyone in the group (my roommate, and another of my roommates friends from high school).

she had all three of us wrapped around her slender little finger.

but perhaps the most amazing thing of all, was that she managed to do this without any of us getting pissed, jealous, or upset.

no hard feelings, no overt competition. we all thought (on some level) that we had a better chance with her than the other two did.

if she had been a waitress, she could have easily taken us for every dollar we had.

during an entire day of drinking and socializing, the balance of our triumvirate shifted many times over.

at times i thought i was in like flynn.

things she said, and things she did, led me to believe that she was as interested in me as i was interested in her. and so i was tempted to press forward and find out if my suspicions were true.

unfortunately my interest surged and waned as i grappled with reality – there was simply no way that ANYTHING could happen between the two of us (EVEN if she was interested).

because my roommate was quite the ‘smitten kitten’ himself.

and he DEFINITELY had first dibs – not only had he known her longer than i had, but he was from the same town as her (i.e. a better long term fit).

plus he’s my ROOMMATE, as much as i want to wish a year of misery upon myself, i really don’t want to screw over my roommate for a girl – even one as remarkable as she was.

so i bowed out as gracefully as humanly possible.

it was all just a game.