I realize that this is my blog, and I can talk about whatever I'd like on here, but I still try to avoid sounding like a broken record on some topics.

But, damn...one of these days, you'd think I'd learn.  No, all it takes is a handsome face and someone saying the "right" things, and I swoon.  I think it's because I don't see myself as "hot" or "sexy"...I'm attractive, handsome, cute...but I'll never stop traffic.  And so when someone who is hot and sexy and traffic-stopping tells me I'm hot and sexy, well, it goes to my head.  They could be full of it, or they could be sincere.  It doesn't really matter, as the result is the same.  I blush, I giggle, and I think to myself "wow...this guy thinks I'm hot!"  If they have a great personality, well, then that just makes it all the better.  We spend time together in person or on the phone, and try as I might not to, I get giddy and excited, and start to fall a bit.  And then, usually without warning, it just ends, and I find myself doubting not only my ability to attract (and keep) the attention of someone sexy (inside and out), but my looks, my self-worth, and my ability to think clearly in the midst of flattering talk.  (I guess I don't really doubt that last bit; it doesn't exist.)

And every time, I think, okay, let's learn from this and not make this mistake again.  And time passes.  And someone new appears on the scene.  And I tend to fall for it again.  Only this time, it hurts a little more because it reopens old wounds AND makes me feel dumb for falling for it a second (or third or fiftieth) time.  It really sucks to feel like a naive patsy, not only because it doesn't feel good to feel dumb, but also because it seems to reinforce the feeling of "no, of course a hot guy isn't going to actually think you're hot, because you're not."

I realize that just because I am not loved in the way I want to be loved does not mean that I am not loved at all...but sometimes...sometimes it feels that way. And I am aware that there is a difference between what I know and what I feel.  Sometimes it feels that if I were truly worthy of being loved romantically, I would be.  It feels that it's always unbalanced, with either me liking the other guy, or the other guy liking me, but never both at the same time.  Even when it seems balanced, it doesn't take long to be revealed that it isn't.  And yet, just like Bart when Lisa had hooked his cupcake up to an electric current but he kept touching it, saying "Ow!" each time, I keep on reaching out, getting zapped, reaching out, getting zapped, over and over.

Is it too much to ask to be loved romantically by someone that I also love?  As the Magic Eight Ball would say, "signs point to 'yes'."

Who watches the Watchmen?

I have several friends who have seen me through some really rough depressive episodes.  And while I am greatly appreciative for their support, I would like to take a moment to point out a couple of things.

1)  Having helped someone through a severely depressed spell does not give you permission to automatically hand out unsolicited advice as soon as they mention being unhappy about something, particularly if that advice is handed out without any sort of acknowledgement of said person's mood/state of mind beforehand.

2)  I would highly recommend refraining from offering this advice in tones that include any notes of condescension, self-righteousness, or any general sense of "I am right, you are wrong, and that's all there is to it."  Not only does it really not help in that particular moment, but it also makes you come off as a giant douche canoe (thank you, Jenny Lawson, for that particular compound phrase.)

3)  If you are going to offer immediate, unsolicited advice, I recommend not acting as if the suggestions you are giving are so simple an idiot can do them, can be done at the snap of a finger, or will immediately make everything all better.  Trust me, if all it took to feel better were to "just feel better," the medical industry would be bankrupt.

4)  This is the big one: if your friend tells you they're a little bummed about something, for the love of Peter, Paul, and Mary, do not immediately go into a DEFCON 2 reaction.  Yes, you do want to be prepared for the worst, but sometimes the bummed mood will pass very soon, and the last thing they need is for you to go into overdrive and start throwing items 1, 2, and 3 at them.

Chances are, by doing that, you will in fact make the situation worse, because now, on top of feeling bummed, they feel they're not even allowed to feel a little bummed over the fact that they found out someone they graduated with from college has been cast in the national tour of a hot Broadway show, and meanwhile they are feeling a bit stuck in life as they have no partner, no children, and no amazingly impressive job.

Saying "Go to Grad school, or get a new job, or move to a new place" (particularly when you are six years younger, with a Master's degree, a cushy job, a cute apartment, and a wonderful boyfriend) will only make them want to tell you to go f**k yourself, and then drop dead.  Or so I read somewhere.

Over the weekend, I attended a couple of events at which I was the only single-and-gay person.  For some reason, being in that situation has started making me feel that there is something wrong with me.  Rationally, I know that just because a person--gay or straight--is single, it does not mean there is something wrong with them and therefore they should be left outside the village to die alone.  But emotionally...well, my inner child goes all Veruca Salt and wants to know why all these other people have someone, but I do not!  And it sucks.  It was bad enough being the only gay person at events...but for some reason, being at an event with other gay people, who are happily and monogamously coupled makes me feel like the Sneetch without a star on his belly that is ostracized by the other Sneetches without stars on their bellies.  I hate that feeling.

One of my favorite movies ever is The Object of My Affection.  Not only did it cement my crush on Paul Rudd and make me want to take ballroom dancing lessons, but it created my desire to live in a cute little apartment in Brooklyn.  Every time I watch the movie, I tear up at Jennifer Aniston's speech to Paul Rudd; even though I know I am supposed to identify with Paul's character, I totally identify with Jennifer's.  At least until recently.  When I was younger, I never understood the character of Rodney, played by Nigel Hawthorne.  He seemed nice enough, but he was a lonely, older, single, gay man.  Clearly, to my eighteen-year-old brain, his character was not integral to the plot.

Now that I am older, with a bit more life experience, I have a (possibly irrational) fear of becoming that character, instead of becoming Paul Rudd's charming character.  That scares me to death.  I just can't figure out if what scares me is the thought of being alone for the rest of my life, or being pitied for being alone for the rest of my life.  It's probably the being pitied part.  Whenever I tell someone that I'm okay with not dating anyone, I see that look pass across their face, the look that says "Suuuure you are.  Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? Well, keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day it'll be true..."  Or maybe that's just me projecting.

I had every intent of this post being much more upbeat...or at least funnier.  I realize that single or no, I still have a lot to be thankful for in my life, and for better or for worse, everything happens for a reason.  (And hey, even Jennifer Aniston's character found love eventually...)

I created this blog over two years ago, with every intention of blogging weekly (if not daily) about random things that happen to me...and yet, that first post was as far as I'd gotten.

Lately, I've been reading the blogs of others--some famous, some yet-to-be--and thinking that perhaps I should give this thing another go.  I don't promise to be brilliant, but I do promise to be honest and forthright, and probably a bit snarky, too.  (I also promise to change names to protect myself from those that just may happen to accidentally stumble onto my blog, so that I don't get sued for defamation...)