Life's Lessons

I am only one-quarter complete on this game of Life, but I think I've cracked some of the codes...may my findings grow exponentially in the three-quarters to come.



This is, in fact, the life

 The majority of life is most optimally experienced under a quilt, by a window, with a beverage, a book and a cat
Examples: Autumn, first kisses, rainy Sunday afternoons, "me-time", the Northern Lights, long quiet heart-to-hearts, a really good storm, a sunset, a sunrise, snuggling with your somebody, silent snowfalls, personal revelations, naps.

Always provide people with the opportunity to please you
Examples: Not telling the person whose joke hurt your feelings means they'll probably do it again; saying "I love it when you ______, it makes me feel so _____" reinforces good behavior and gives a really personalized compliment, which is the best kind; failing to remind your special someone about the upcoming birthday/anniversary/gift-giving holiday to test them and see if they "really" love you leaves you feeling betrayed and presentless, and makes them feel vilified and guilty.

If you have to explain to someone you love why they should think/feel/act another way, it's probably not worth it
Example:
Me: "Baby, you wanna come home with me this year, see my island?"
Him: "At your Mom's? Uh, no."
Me: "Don't you want to see where I grew up?"
Him: "Well, sure...I guess..."
Me: "Well? When, if not this time? What's going to have changed by next time?"
Him: "I just...I've been to Hawaii, you know? With my family."
Me: "But this is my home, not just a tourist destination. We visit your family all the time."
Him: "Yeah, because they live in Wasilla."
Me: "It's not like I'm asking you to go every week...just try it. This is important to me."
Him: "...  :( "

Does that sound like either of us would have a good time? He does it just to humor me, and I get mad when he doesn't seem to be enjoying himself? Oh yeah, I want to buy expensive tickets to that show.

I realized at about this point in the conversation what kind of scenario I was leading us to, and I thought:



But I want my neighbors

to think I'm successful...

 Don't disguise the trappings of success with actually having succeeded
Example: "Getting" your guy to marry you and planning an elaborate quote-unquote perfect wedding is not a gurantee of a lifelong love, which is what you're actually dreaming of...him wanting to marry you and having everything feel "just right" are symptoms of love, but you can't reverse-engineer it by mimicking the side effects.

Inactivity sees you through
Examples: Is he giving me mixed signals, or am I just reading too much into this? Is she being passive-aggressive, or am I just being overly sensitive? Should I go to the party with those new acquaintances I already RSVP'd to, or bail to make it to that really important person's birthday?

It always gets cleared up, the other people's plans fall through, or a third party lends a new perspective; if you're unsure of how not to make an ass out of yourself, just Don't. Move. It's not sure-fire, but it's always been my best bet. Overcomplicating the situation with half-assed compromises, complex contingency plans or awkward apology-explanations just make a bad thing worse. If you can, try not to worry about it  too much while you're waiting, either, because...


Those who dig the best ditches

get given a bigger shovel


The one who cares the most is the one who suffers the most
Example: I bet there's only one person in any given household who cleans out the refrigerator, every time. It may not be frequent, it may not even be a source of contention, but I bet it's the same person, every time it's been done. They care the most, and so it falls to them. Props if they raise hell about it and make others help them. That shit's disgusting.

What's A Year Between Friends?

So I definitely put off updating for long enough, my procrastination prerogative is fully satiated.

It's no good, you guys; I can't stop thinking of things I'd love to rant to you about. I have no time and hardly any audience, but the hell I say; damn the cheesemongers and bring on the posts!

Should've labeled it

"CERTAINLY NOT Doodles"

There's nothing like full-time 9 to 5 office work to stimulate an almost desperate level of creativity, as one's own imagination attempts to achieve escape velocity from grim reality. My guilty little stack of doodles, snatches of song lyrics and other bits of inner-head dandruff bear witness to this. Meanwhile the return-mailing project remains entirely unaddressed, because I have my priorities properly wiggly.

I have made huge strides in my job skills since last I posted, in that I can now sometimes talk to my boss without having a panic attack. Not much else has improved; I seem to be surprisingly conform-and-obey-resistant. It's not a mark of character, I assure you; I'm not fightin' the power, I just lack the aptitude. However, I can put on earrings and high heels like a champ, so they think I'm an adult. The fools.

Magical-girl transformation

sequence: ACTIVATE

I have definitely begun my magical-girl transformation into a grownup, though; I recently cleaned out my sock and underwear drawers, and Loved. It. It was like giving my whole psyche a scrub and brushup. I went through my wardrobe, cleared out all our bedroom shelving, and redid my office setup...I'm an organizing fool! Or, alternately, a total tool. When did I buy into this well-organized malarky? Couldn't tell you, for the brainwashing is now complete. I used to be a Hot Topic rebel, spike-collared and antagonistic to strangers at the mall; I knew the score, and was free from the lies of tidiness, timeliness, or any other -ness you'd care to name. What happened?

This is not rhetorical; I think I know, actually.

Kids find out somewhere between ages 3 and 13, based on the individual's level of observation or their parent's IQ, that adults are stupid and boring. They then commence to rail against these wastes of humanity that gave them the precious gift of life in ever-increasingly intelligent rants as they progress towards the second pivotal point, which can occur any time between 17 and 27, depending on apron-string strength, level of education or the advent of a family tragedy. This is the point at which all the adult-imposed structure and well-intentioned plans draws to their scheduled close and the young human, suddenly shorn of a sheltering scapegoat to be "held back" by, stands before the realities of life, survival, the need for food and rent money...and suddenly loses all aspirations to the soapbox or personal principle.

People are remarkably conservative and unimaginative when presented with a sudden dose of total personal responsibility.

You find the job, the apartment and the person to live in it with, and batten down the hatches against both reality and old dreams of grandeur. CSI reruns, takeout and saving up long enough to buy the new iThing shape your world, and by the time you resurface from this womblike regression from that shock enough to get a decent job, make some sound investments and gain the ability to vacation every other year, there's no hope left; you've bought in to everything your parents stood for, and you're shopping for durability, searching for stability and trying to watch your cholesterol. The world is hard, and whenever the moment is that the young person faces that fact, is the moment the transformation begins.

“Looks like he was a real go-getter, huh Pete”

“Sure does, Bob”

And yes, of course there's exceptions to this; sometimes people see opportunities and possibilities, not just obstacles. And I think most anyone on a good day can talk themselves into taking on at least one of their obstacles and making an opportunity for themselves, it's nowhere near impossible. But have you noticed how many of those opportunity-makers, movers and shakers, tend to be outlined in white on CSI? Hmm? HMM? Inactivity sees you through, says I; and have you seen my new iPod? It can hold 160 gigs! I can take alllll my music with me on our next vacation.

Friend Criteria

Friend prototype; although

shown singly, comes in pairs.

As 1/2 of a mature, awesome couple that's in the success lane, fast-tracking to...something good, we're fairly sure...I have begun to notice some premature maturity (yes, it's a thing) budding here and there in our lives. Like we're much, MUCH more defensive of our bedtimes than we ever have been before. We fight for it, and clutch it close like it's precious, suspiciously eyeing all social invitations for possible sleep-robbery. (Also a thing.) I personally have started to clean. Those who do not know me will not understand what a bizarro alternate universe statement that was, but it is. It seems to be a combination of being ready for when parents visit with little warning, being criticized by friends who can't ignore kitty litter smell quite as well as we can, and...for myself. Because I care. It bothers me. No words for how weird that is.

But mostly our nascent fogey-ness can be seen in our friends. Sure, we have friends who don't fit the profile below, but they are satellite friends, orbiting in and out of one's social circle on their own social trajectories. The people who we see every week and/or day, and who mainly see us in return, fit a very specific profile of premature maturity. (See, saying it twice makes it a thing.)

My sweetie hoards 3 of the 4 Fancy cats - its effin' exciting!

They are cat people. Fancy and Button (friend's names are obviously and deliberately fabricated for their privacy, just in case anyone managed to care enough to Google them) have gone critical, plateauing after the initial outbreak at 4 cats, while Pants and McDuck only occasionally pet-sit McDuck's mother's cat - nonetheless, they are cat people. It counts, believe me - imagine the personality of Scrooge McDuck (hence the moniker) in a man who is mostly sideburns, likes to weight-lift while roaring silently at his own reflection and blasting heavy metal, and who has been known to make people cross the street to walk on the other side when he comes bearing down on them on a dark night - this terrifying dude loves holding our fat Lola kitty like a baby and crooning at her about her "diddah kitty pawsy-wawsies," etc.

They are couples. Fancy and Button were recently married, as were a more distant satellite couple that consists of my Sweetie's cousin Wiggles and her man Teach...let me just say, going to two weddings in one summer where you are friends with the couple instead of the children of the attendees makes one feel positively ADULT. Brr.
Add Pants and McDuck, Lit and Linux, Shrinky and her Bill (his name is boring enough to be real), & a few other unmarried-yet-paired types, and we are condemned to social gatherings that will always have an even number of people. What is it about being in a long-term couple that makes single people evaporate like dew in the sunshine? It's not like we play 'No-I-love-you-more' and then start measuring whose relationship is longest. We wait until everyone else goes home before we do that.

C/o madbrewlabs.com

They are nerds. We had a non-nerdy couple, but it broke. Probably not from the combined power of all the nerdy couples they were in keeping with, but it does set a clear precedent; nerdiness reigns supreme. If you don't know how to spoof an IP to stream past caps, stream music and movies for free, love both western cartoons and anime, and at least know what WoW or D&D stand for, we don't love you. We pity you. If, however, you own at least one set of polyhedral die, or have at least one character on our WoW server, we're fine, just fine. Attending the Ren Faire or Forest Fair with us in the summer is bonus points.

This is apparently the trifecta for Responsible Adulthood, and we have all fallen prey. Fancy AND McDuck both OWN THEIR HOMES. At the ages of  23 and 25, respectively. At least Bunny and I rent. With a roommate, even. Ahh, wild youth.