Thursday, June 10
No Love, Actually
Unfortunatly for me, I am human.
By and large, I deplore my species. We are the species that tore a hole in the ozone layer, we are the species that thought George Bush was an ideal candidate for leading a superpower country, we are the species that champions gangsta rap as music. Admittedly, we have the Americans to blame for most of this, but they're too much of an easy target, and also good people individually.
However, being a human, I do a number of things. I piss, I eat, I corrupt the world to make my life easier, and I interact with other people. Yet, maybe thankfully for mankind, but not for me, one aspect of my humanity seems to elude me over all other things.
Why do I have to fight like a mule to even get close to women emotionally, when some guys quite literally just pick them up off of the street?
This summer already seems to be becoming a summer of love (just ask Tiny1...), and I myself have come so close to joining in, having actually been kissed! by a girl! who I like! If anyone cares for the outcome of that, heres a summery I can get away with. You know how some of you get regular sex? You know how some of you get any sex at all? I didn't, and it doesn't seem I will.
So really, the best way of turning my situation around, is to look at what I'm doing wrong in the eyes of women, and correct it. Has anyone else seen the flaw in this already?
That's right, not even the women know what they're after!
It is commonly quoted that "women like nice guys". A fine principle, but it only works fifty per cent of the time. I'm told repeatedly, by women and men, that I'm a nice guy (hell, if I don;t brag, no one will), and I've been very single for nearly a year and a half. With only half a dozen stolen kisses, and the very rare grope (without the favour returned, usually) to tide me by.
Common sense dictates that "women like fit guys". Which is obvious, since guys like fit girls. Note for the not-English: fit as in attractive, not fit as in muscley. Muscley women are an eyesore, I believe. The problem lies in what defines a fit guy, since women are far worse at promoting what they look for in men than us men do for women. And its hardly like I'm an eyesore. Apart from the vague mantitties. And the gangly arms. And the Mick Jagger Mullet. It may sound a lot, but really, is it so much?
Is it my metalhead appearence? I like my baggy, slightly muddy jeans. They show how "metal" I am. If I were told this were the problem, I'd be quite screwed, since my entire wardrobe is full of baggy, frayed, easily-muddied jeans. And is there so much wrong with a beanie in high summer?
Basically, I can't see what I'm doing wrong, and I'm not convinced that the readership of this 'ere blog is in a position to enlighen me, being mostly male, or failing that, just good friends. Neither really material for falling in love with. There is occasionly one exception, but she's essentially shot me down, and I'm still a-burning.
Is it just confidence? You wouldn't know it to hear me over the Internet. Or even know it to look at me, provided I already know. Yes, I am flamboyantly confident, but only because of familiarity. If I went into a bar without my rampant hoardes, chances are I'd have a few pints and leave, unable to muster the confidence to actually even try and talk to a girl, let alone drag her home for a night in the sack, let alone anything near a serious relationship.
So, I don't know.
Oh, I'm sorry, were you after something funny? Try the chap next door...
By and large, I deplore my species. We are the species that tore a hole in the ozone layer, we are the species that thought George Bush was an ideal candidate for leading a superpower country, we are the species that champions gangsta rap as music. Admittedly, we have the Americans to blame for most of this, but they're too much of an easy target, and also good people individually.
However, being a human, I do a number of things. I piss, I eat, I corrupt the world to make my life easier, and I interact with other people. Yet, maybe thankfully for mankind, but not for me, one aspect of my humanity seems to elude me over all other things.
Why do I have to fight like a mule to even get close to women emotionally, when some guys quite literally just pick them up off of the street?
This summer already seems to be becoming a summer of love (just ask Tiny1...), and I myself have come so close to joining in, having actually been kissed! by a girl! who I like! If anyone cares for the outcome of that, heres a summery I can get away with. You know how some of you get regular sex? You know how some of you get any sex at all? I didn't, and it doesn't seem I will.
So really, the best way of turning my situation around, is to look at what I'm doing wrong in the eyes of women, and correct it. Has anyone else seen the flaw in this already?
That's right, not even the women know what they're after!
It is commonly quoted that "women like nice guys". A fine principle, but it only works fifty per cent of the time. I'm told repeatedly, by women and men, that I'm a nice guy (hell, if I don;t brag, no one will), and I've been very single for nearly a year and a half. With only half a dozen stolen kisses, and the very rare grope (without the favour returned, usually) to tide me by.
Common sense dictates that "women like fit guys". Which is obvious, since guys like fit girls. Note for the not-English: fit as in attractive, not fit as in muscley. Muscley women are an eyesore, I believe. The problem lies in what defines a fit guy, since women are far worse at promoting what they look for in men than us men do for women. And its hardly like I'm an eyesore. Apart from the vague mantitties. And the gangly arms. And the Mick Jagger Mullet. It may sound a lot, but really, is it so much?
Is it my metalhead appearence? I like my baggy, slightly muddy jeans. They show how "metal" I am. If I were told this were the problem, I'd be quite screwed, since my entire wardrobe is full of baggy, frayed, easily-muddied jeans. And is there so much wrong with a beanie in high summer?
Basically, I can't see what I'm doing wrong, and I'm not convinced that the readership of this 'ere blog is in a position to enlighen me, being mostly male, or failing that, just good friends. Neither really material for falling in love with. There is occasionly one exception, but she's essentially shot me down, and I'm still a-burning.
Is it just confidence? You wouldn't know it to hear me over the Internet. Or even know it to look at me, provided I already know. Yes, I am flamboyantly confident, but only because of familiarity. If I went into a bar without my rampant hoardes, chances are I'd have a few pints and leave, unable to muster the confidence to actually even try and talk to a girl, let alone drag her home for a night in the sack, let alone anything near a serious relationship.
So, I don't know.
Oh, I'm sorry, were you after something funny? Try the chap next door...
