Well, it’s all over.
That's it... show's over, folks. Expect a gradual cessation of posts like this, and hopefully more stories about getting farted on at the gym.
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I offered a timeline, told her I wanted to work at it, and see if we could keep things going. But she was either too frightened, impatient, or -- and I do have to face this as a probability -- reasonable and clear-headed to consider it.
We never really had much going for us, I guess. The culture barrier and the distance, of course, would have worked against us. I thought we could have dealt with it, but she saw 12,000 miles and her family dynamic as insurmountable barriers. I guess I can't be sure if she was wrong.
She has a pretty clear picture of how she wants her life to be, and she's positive an imminent marriage is the next step to that -- even admitting that it may not matter so much who is involved.
The most painful side of it is, I can't shake the suspicion that her practicality has already moved her further along her path, and she's trying to keep me in the dark. A lot of the signs are there, but there's no telling for sure. I guess that's the part really eating at me; the feeling of a betrayal. I don't open myself up to people often, nor very much -- this place, where I bare my soul to any East European spam bot that cares to drop in, is the exception that proves the rule -- and for a while I felt like this might be too much to handle.
It still might be, for certain things. But in all this mess, I have learned a few things. Some are old and known, some are new (to me), and some are borrowed. Nothing blue, sorry. That ship has sailed.
- There are people in my life that won't screw me (figuratively), even if they're heartily sick of my bullshit. Also, to my unabashedly abashed surprise, my parents can stand up and be counted among them.
- If I'm being honest, I'm probably not as cynical and disinterested in other people as I think... but I'm also more of a wuss than I like to admit.
- Things will get different. Maybe not better, but that's largely up to me. See that? Self-actualization. That's like SCIENCE, that is.
- I'm a narcissist. Self-loathing, sure, but they're not mutually exclusive properties. I haven't decided yet whether my narcissism falls within the normal range for human self-interest, but seriously, come on. Look around at this site. This is like, a fucking temple to my self-abused ego.
- I can be unbelievably petty.
- Cherish the good, forgive the bad, learn from it all, and keep moving.
- That kind of sounds like a country music lyric. Except instead of "moving" I would have had "truckin'".
- I HATE country music.
Regardless of how it ends, the journey was amazing. I'll treasure almost all of the memories, and on balance I believe we'll both be better people for it, albeit in very different ways.
Knowing all that sometimes doesn't help, especially when I remember those special moments we'll never have a chance to revisit. And I'm positive I still have more blank staring to do.
But it's good enough for right now.
Hole
I'm at an old standby lunch joint of mine -- a crappy, greasy, fry-everything-in-lard Mexican hole in the wall. I've ordered and sat down with a cup of horchata, and getting ready to open up my current book so I can stare blankly at the pages.
One of the staff walks up to the soda fountain near me, and glances over. I glance up, neutral, and then back down to my book. He fills his cup, and wanders away.
A minute later, he comes back with two more cups -- he must be working the drive-through. He glances at me again, and I glance up again. He jerks his chin at me.
"Hey, man. Are you a cop?"
I'm confused. "Uh... what?"
"Are you a cop?"
I shake my head with a slight grin. "Nope."
"Oh, all right. You look like a cop. You ever thought of being a cop?"
"Er... I don't think I'd enjoy it."
"Right on, man." And away he goes.
I'm struck by three thoughts almost immediately:
- I need to start working out more, if I look like the average fatass patrol cop I see around my neighborhood these days.
- I should consider a change in haircut from this short-cropped buzz.
- I need to tone down my blank stares.
:( –> >:(
I have become a sopping wet emo douche. I kind of want to take my bat and smash everything in my apartment, but then I would have nothing to wallow in self-pity on. And how would I smash the bat?
All that aside, let's try to write something that isn't a personal sob story today.
Making the transition from sadness to anger... now:
Let's talk about the auto industry, which has been dominating the news cycle lately. Apparently they need $34 billion of taxpayer money to stay in business.
Let's examine the situation here. The most dire consequence of these companies failing would be the loss of "millions of jobs." Fair enough. But let's look at those jobs. Many of these people haven't done a decent day's work in decades. The executives have been signing off on the worst cars in the world, made by one of the laziest, most incompetent, most overpaid work forces in the world. And when those useless UAW members are laid off, the company keeps paying them money for doing nothing... GM alone to the tune of $400 million per year.
They aren't doing anything now. If they lost their jobs, they still wouldn't be doing anything. The only difference is, the useful members of society wouldn't be paying them for it.
So here's an open message to UAW members in the job banks... and maybe the UAW as a whole, I dunno:
Do something of value to earn commensurate pay, or go broke. That is capitalism. You've been making some of the worst cars in the world ever since the Japanese decided to glue four wheels and an engine on some sheet metal. You deserve to fail. You deserve to go broke and lose your house and move to the dust bowl, if your giant SUV will get you there without running out of gas and breaking down.
YOU are the ones destroying the American auto industry. Are you asking why the Japanese car makers are doing so well while the "Big Three" are a joke? Look in the mirror.
When you called a strike at GM in 2007, did you know that GM's stock actually rose? That is how useless you are. That is how much everyone hates you. When you stopped work, when GM stopped making cars, they were worth MORE.
Listen. I am not concerned with how GM spends its money. They could spend billions of dollars on lube for all you guys to get busy on each other for all I care. None of it is my money. I intend to never buy an American car, precisely because they are poorly made practical jokes. But now they want my tax money to go to you mouth-breathers.
I would happily shell out tax money to help a single mother working too hard to take care of her kids. I would love for my tax money to help inner city kids better themselves at colleges or trade schools. I'd really enjoy knowing my money went to a life-saving operation for someone whose family is too poor to afford health insurance.
But to go into the $120-140,000 (per person, per year) it takes to let you fat-asses in Lansing sleep and watch TV every day?
No. You're a waste of space, air, money, and time.
Please understand something: this is not personal. I'm just tired of getting dragged down because of stupid, lazy, greedy, amoral, and/or incompetent people, and right now that's you.