I Know Jujitsu, Kung Fu, Karate, Tai Chi, and I Saw Hulkamania Three Times. Once in Slow-Mo
Finally went to Tai Chi this morning, and it’s a good thing I missed Tuesday and Thursday. Saturday is the beginner class. I followed along pretty well…having a full mirrored wall really helped. No idea what the hell I’m doing, but everyone says I did great.
There’s a lot of pointing fingers in the right direction, choreographed moves in slow motion that make me feel like I’m in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or some such shit. Breathing in while squeezing imaginary balls of energy. I don’t get it, but it was calming and that’s not a bad thing.
I’ll squeeze in some Wii Fit today, too. This week has been a total success. I exercised Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and today. Not a big fan of the water aerobics, and haven’t yet tried the Zumba, but I will when they start a new class in a couple of weeks.
How do I feel? Meh. Emotionally, still down in the dumps. I still feel exercise is boring, but I’ll keep it up. There are only 22 days left, after all. Physically, I still wind very easily, and hate sweating or pushing myself. On the treadmill, I stay in the “weight loss zone” and never make it to “cardio zone,” but hey…baby steps.
I may set up a date with a personal trainer, though I don’t have a lot of money to drop. There are a lot of machines in that gym and I should be using them. I just don’t know how, so a trainer would be most helpful. Though they’ll probably kick my ever-loving ass.
On to another topic. Men. And women. As a dude with 95% female friends, I find myself in a unique position much of the time. First of all, the Drama Quotient with mostly women buds is far higher than it is with mostly males. It’s just a fact. My male friends never ask me if their ass looks big in these jeans. They never drop gossip on my lap. “Did you hear what Joe did? He told his wife to ’shush’ while the game was on, and she was all, ‘Oh no you din’t!’” Or maybe, “Shenaynay looked at me weird at BlogHer. She better watch her back.”
No.
I have adjusted to the occasional Drama flare-ups and, honestly, it doesn’t bother me. Mostly. I still relate better to women, thanks to all my therapizing.
The other thing about having all these girlie friends is that someone is always going through relationship troubles. Mostly because men are (mostly) douchebags. I get that. Commitment issues, breakups via text, men are generally clueless dicks who wouldn’t know how to communicate if they absorbed every Rosetta Stone course there is.
I’m not here to defend the men. It’s a maturity thing, as far as I’m concerned. And let’s face facts: women usually trump men in maturity hands-down.
What I don’t understand is why so many women put up with shitty men/relationships to begin with. Insecurity, I guess? It’s perhaps the only explanation I can think of. Why else would you stay somewhere you’re not happy?
I’m not even talking about abusive men, necessarily, though there’s a lot of that, too. But if a guy is a rude ass, why stay with him? Because you think you can change him? Because you think you can’t get anyone better? Bullshit.
Listen, if a guy shows you no respect – the woman he purports to love – then you need to either have a heart-to-heart or get the fuck out of Dodge. If he doesn’t want to spend time with you. If he talks down to you, belittles you. If the only time he looks at you is when he’s hungry or horny. There are a million ways to show someone you love them, and a million ways to show you don’t think shit of them.
It’s frustrating, especially when some women give the prunts third, fourth, tenth chances…only to come crying about him again weeks or months later. Because he doesn’t change. Douchebags rarely do. Oh, sure, for a little while, perhaps. He’ll be all flowers and taking out the trash for a time. Then it’s back to business as usual. And the older the guy is, the more likely it is he’s not changing. Especially for you.
Believe me, if you’re in a bad relationship, you can do better. A friend gave me advice once about judging a person’s character. Watch how they treat a waitress. If they’re rude to her, they’ll be rude to you. If they ogle her and flirt with her and treat her like a blow-up doll, you can be sure that’s gonna happen frequently both with you and with people that aren’t you. And if they tip shoddily, they’re cheap bastards.
Other little things. Does he open your door for you? Does he actually listen and pay attention when you’re talking, look you in the eye and engage with you? Does he do special little things for you?
This seems common sense to me, but it must not be because I see women putting up with utter bullshit all the time. Women that have settled. Ugh. It’s nauseating.
You deserve better. And sometimes better is all by yourself.
Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mikebaird/ / CC BY 2.0
SillyBring is Coming, Plus a Call For Ideas
So it’s official. Bubblewench is coming to Sebring toward the end of April. Not many of my blogger buds can say they’ve been here…not many can say they WANT to be here, but still. Shannon wants to meet up with her Florida buddies. Therefore…
We’re having a get together, and you’re invited if you can get here.
WHAT: SillyBring
WHEN: Saturday, April 24
WHERE: Sebring, Florida
I’ll research hotels if you want to come and stay the night. If you’re driving from Tampa, it’s about 2 hours drive. Orlando, about 90 minutes. If you’re flying in, Orlando International is the way to go (airport code MCO).
I don’t expect much response here, but if you do come, here’s some of what we’re thinking about. Karaoke at the infamous Why Not Lounge on Saturday night. It’s a hole-in-the-wall cave of a bar, but it’s full of characters, trust me.
We may also go to Gatorama during the day, which is a gator farm offering the largest selection of gators and crocodiles anywhere! So they say. You can even pet a baby gator.
Depending on how many people come, I also have a Wii with a 60-inch TV. I’m not having 20 people in my house, but again, I don’t expect even 25% of that in numbers, so we’ll see.
We can hit the Blue Lagoon for beers and dinner. Or the Wild Turkey, which has the best gator tail in Highlands county.
Gonna have a blast.
If you’re thinking of coming, leave a comment here…or email me.
EDIT: I didn’t realize this was the same weekend as TequilaCon. Oops. No matter. I knew I couldn’t go to TequilaCon this year, anyway. May as well bring the party here, since Shannon is coming. I hope that my TC buds all have a great time. But we will, too.
REDESIGN
So with the redesign of SecondHand Tryptophan coming within weeks, I’m opening up the floor to suggestions/ideas for the new look. If there are features you’d like to see, please let me know. I have a good idea of where I’m going with things, but I’d love to hear from you, too.
Again, comments here or email would be appreciated. Thanks, gang.
Filed under 2HT Mentions, Bloggity Blog, Local Goings On, Relationships, Travel | Comments (25)Hollow Him Out, Take Everything.
Yesterday, in a move hardly characteristic of myself, I went to the YMCA to, ugh, exercise. Water aerobics.
First off, I’m not happy in a bathing suit. Yes, I hate sports, know nothing about cars, and I have body issues. So why the hell don’t I get multiple orgasms like the rest of you women? Huh? Not fair.
I didn’t even make it through the whole class, maybe 45 minutes. A bunch of old women kicked my fucking ass. My legs were burning, my heart was racing. The only good part was that it’s hard to sweat when you’re in a pool.
Apparently, you need an AARP membership before you can make it a full hour in a pool with floatie noodles and foam dumbbells. But I did it for 45 minutes, and that counts.
Tomorrow, I have two things to do. First, Tai Chi in the morning. Then, after over a month and a half, I’m finally getting my head CT. Yeah, from passing out and hitting the kitchen floor. The forehead is most certainly cracked; I can feel it. Plus, the headaches are getting more frequent…not where I usually get them, either. They’re in the front of my head. That’s not good.
I don’t know what they’ll do for me when they find out my skull is cracked. But at least I’m getting it looked at, even if it took a while to get approval to get a local CT scan done. Rather than drive two hours, I mean.
Work begins in earnest on the 2HT redesign this week. It’s one of the very few things I’m able to garner any excitement for. Most everything else feels hollow, like I’m just going through the motions.
Nothing seems to matter. Nothing seems to make a difference. I’m tearing up at the drop of a hat. Just last night, I was sniffling while listening to The Cars’ “Just What I Needed.” WTF?!
The fires keep coming, and I’m expected to put them out, to deal with the crises laying all around me. And I barely have the fortitude to get out of bed, let alone take care of problems or go do Tai Chi.
I feel unworthy. Unloveable. That fucking Permeable Teflon skin of mine. Bad goes in, good slides off. It’s automatic.
And when I have conversations like this, it gives me pause. I’m in green, by the way.
I hate when people tell me I need to agree with nice things said about me.
It’s that last bit that is so problematic for me. But Angel, she’s a smart cookie. Maybe you don’t see what she did there, but she used LOGIC. Because logic trumps emotion with me.
It’s the last sentence that really hits.
Your friends kick ass, and they love you, so you must not suck.
That’s a statement of logic. Three of them, actually.
1. Your friends kick ass. TRUE.
2. They love you. TRUE. I’ll accept this, even if I fail to see why most of the time.
3. So you must not suck. ???
That part, I’m struggling with. The first two statements are true, therefore…the last part must also be true. I mean, that’s the logical conclusion, right?
But soaking it up, as Angel says, is not just easier said than done. It’s nigh impossible. So she brilliantly played the logic card, and I’m fighting hard to negate it. Which seems stupid, mostly because it is. Why on Earth would I choose to reject love? Reject nice things? I don’t know the answer to that, exactly.
If I’m loveable, if I don’t suck, if I’m not the horrid vile person the voices in my head tell me I am…then what the fuck AM I? I’ve been this person for 43 years. If I take away the bad shit, what if there’s nothing left holding me together?
I don’t know how to be anyone else. I don’t know how to feel loved, to feel worthy, to feel…good. And it’s a very real threat to me, this loss of all the bad shit. Who am I without it?
I must not suck.
Does not compute.
And is this my midlife crisis, by the way? I’m due for one, I suppose. I’m middle-aged. It doesn’t FEEL any different than my usual depression and angst, though. I’m still not longing to sleep with 23-year-old’s or to drive red sports cars, so that’s something. Unless it’s a red ‘66 Mustang with USB connectors.
Seriously, if I HAD a midlife crisis, would I even fucking know it? I mean, I’m in crisis now. I’m at the middle of my life.
Shit. I am having a midlife crisis.
Fuck, who needs a drink?
Filed under 2HT Mentions, Depression, Exercise, Inside My Head, Local Goings On, Relationships, YOR | Comments (23)
