Farming vs Hunting

Approaching women is different depending on which field you happen to be playing on.

Bars, clubs. the lady on the street, and parties are generally hunting-only locales. You either enter the room, weapon in hand, and strike, or you go home. There is some freedom to these venues, because you probably won't see any of these people again, so if you totally stick your foot in your mouth it really doesn't matter. On the other hand, it's pretty hard to be a Sensitive New Age Guy here. Nice guys don't finish at all here. Neither do nice girls (generally) respond.

No, my dear conversationalists (if your tongue is your strong point and you're not wittier than chris rock, this is you), you need to find a farm. This is someplace where you see the same people over and over again. This could be the gal at the coffee shop who makes your latte, any of the hotties at the gym, or the classroom. It could be an office mate or that cutie up in apartment 920. This is the case where you make casual conversation, flirt your ass off, then leave them hanging and DON'T try to close the deal. Talk to them here and there for a month or two, then open the dating bag someday when you're feeling on top of the world. You ever notice how no girl says no on those days? Well, this is perfect, because you get to WAIT until one of those days turns up, then go and harvest!

Really, though, you need both methods, because unless you move around a lot, you tend to start farming in your own backyard after awhile. And no one wants to be THAT guy. Well, unless you're sure the girls at Starbucks are talking about your nine inch penis and not about what a jerk you were for not calling back. (lol)

That hope thing

I’ve decided I’m a hope whore. I’m cynical enough so that I basically never have hope in the first place, with anyone, but every once in awhile circumstance and serendipity toss it on my lap and I can’t help but feel it.

Then I get a little psycho. I become a little needy, obsessively attentive, and basically worship the ground she walks on. I overlook little clues that I’m coming on too strong, that she really isn’t as wonderful as I’m imagining she is, and that in another week or two I’m going to be left wondering what the heck happened.

It’s a pretty rare occurrence — that cynicism thing keeps my hope in check and the alfie playbook actually allows things to grow organically to a point — but it still happens once in awhile.

And I still feel like a big fat idiot.

FTW. Or not.

Yeah, so, I’ve been home less than a week and ended the membership with my female representation in two area codes.

Well, sorta. I told a partial truth to one of them, and was critical of another. Basically I’m ending relationships because I can’t stop thinking about LB.

I keep telling myself it’s fantasy, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like Zach Braff at the end of Garden State. I just keep wishing I’d turned right around in Austin last week and not come back.

So… I broke a date with Sarah last night. I knew she’d want to have sex and I just couldn’t face that.

I went out with Dawn on Wednesday. FTW, huh? She was stressed out and bitchy as hell. I kept looking across the table at her and wishing she were Burckey. Then I challenged her, asking her if she was passionate about anything but her work and her literature. Then I asked if there were any room in her life for a guy like me.

She apologized at the end of the night “for being bitchy and distant” — after I’d so nicely massaged her despite my urge to just get the hell out of there.

Quite a disconcerting change from last week when I thought she was the one. Instead of a sophisticated, brilliant woman who was focused and driven, I saw a bitchy, judgmental, self-centered woman who was lacking depth and hunger. I’ve been asking myself if it was me sabotaging things for my real desire to be Lauren, or her just showing her true colors. I think it was more about the latter than the former — especially combined with my newfound joy at being really appreciated by someone (god, I love that about her).

So much for Future Trophy Wife. Sigh. I called her the next day in an effort to reassure and got her voice mail. She hasn’t called back yet, and I don’t think she will. C’est la vie.

Then tonight I saw Alison. We went to sushi, had a great time, and she came back to my place and wanted to have sex. I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the desire at all. As she was sitting there next to me hinting at it, I just kept wishing I were with Lauren.

So I told her. Not the whole truth, although “you know the movie Garden State? Well, I found my Natalie Portman back in Austin” certainly crossed my mind. I told her I was confused and that I wasn’t ready for anything serious, and that I was reticent to get into anything, especially with someone like her, who deserves to be treated well. Of course, I verified first that she was looking for a relationship, because that was my out.

I figured that was nicer than, “I’m not into you, I never will be, and I just want to fly 1800 miles right now to spend the night with the girl I am enamored with.” Ya think?

Goddamn it I miss Lauren. I did NOT expect to feel this way. I look at her picture every day, she’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, and I want to call her 10 times a day just to hear her voice.

If Thanksgiving goes well, I’m going to take her seriously. Commit to her seriously. Move across the country seriously.

I can’t believe I’m talking this way, but I don’t care. It’s nuts and crazy, but it feels so good.

FTW

Aii yaye yaye yah yaye.

I'm in a whirlwind right now. I have three women that I'm torn between -- for now anyway.

Dawn is the one. I feel it, I know it, I'm afraid of it, I'm excited about it. I can't wait to get home and see her.

Rasha is amazing. She would be fun and wonderful and upbuilding and supportive and challenging. She's intelligent and pretty, she's cool and spunky, she's... invited me to San Diego next weekend.

And Lauren. Ahhhh, Lauren. So young, so sweet, so full of life, so in to me in a way that only a 20 year old can be. It feels sooo good. I love how she looks at me, with pureness and joy, with the kind of love only someone so young could offer.

I live for that look, but Dawn is so smart and pretty. And Rasha is so good for me.

Waaah. Why is it always feast or famine? Why am I always faced with hard decisions or no love at all?

Dating and such

I'm always reticent to speak about this topic in such an open forum, because I'm single, and single guys, by the very definition, are always looking, even if it's only a little.

The thing is, the very status of "single" has been on my mind a lot over the past week or so. I've got a crush, and it's placed a heavy burden on my normally cool, laid back self. It's easy to date often when there's not a lot of emotional involvement, but what do you do when you actually might want to buy the cow (see previous post, it's not a negative analogy)?

So, yeah, I'm feeling like a little bitch (as opposed to my normal smooth, or, at least, charmingly all-business, self).

I guess the reason I'm feeling like a little bitch is because I'm hoping again, so it's not all bad. It's pretty damn scary, though. I mean, I don't like being bitter and jaded, nor angry and cynical, but it sure is a safe place to be. Women can't hurt you if you never really expose yourself to them.

I'm not sure how to proceed. Writing off whatever hopefulness I have as childish or immature would be really easy and safe, but leaving myself open could carry such a prize.

There's also that nagging little problem that "leaving myself open" means I'm having trouble following the pimpin' rulebook. I mean, I wrote the damn thing (ok, we got "don't call for two days" from Swingers, but other than that, Alfie definitely deserves a byline), but I want to break those damn rules 10 times a day!

Someone told me not too long ago that if I'm not open, that if I just let myself be jaded, then my cheating ex wins. I remember responding with something like "since when is it a competition", which is totally valid, but perhaps I missed the point.

Maybe having a crush is just a visible sign that I'm "over it"?

Aha! There's the internal debate. Is my crush a symptom of growth, like the above would imply, or is it me slipping back into immature habits? Is this crush based on the fact that this chick is friggin' cool, or is it because deep down I know she'll treat me like shit? Or, at least, be emotionally unavailable and unappreciative?

I guess I already have my answer. Be myself, which means following most of the rulebook still and keeping my options open, but give her a fair shot. Aside from be ing completely present with her (I always am, that's part of "charming") and cherishing the hope that I thought was gone forever, let my guard down (and rip pages out of the rulebook) slowly. Oh, and it's ok to place some hope in her. I can handle it if she dismisses me.

(Am I killing my game if I admit I really hope this works out? Arrrrrgh!)

--

It's weird. In re-reading what I've just written, it is striking how much self-doubt I have about my own feelings. Shouldn't I just KNOW that I'm into someone for the right reasons? Or not?

But mostly I thought about Jenny

I haven’t written in a long time, and I really need to. Or do a good Forrest-style run, perhaps.

Laura Laura Laura. I miss her so much, yet hate the thought of her. I want to call her up and… scream at her, ask for her back, and tell her she’s a slutbag all at once. I want to hate hate hate, yet then I think less of myself for hating.

A little part of me hates all women now, classifying them as either slutty bitches with education or dumb sweethearts without it. Or slutty dummies, I guess. They exist too.

There’s so little forgiveness left in my heart, and so little love in my soul.

I sought out Lauren R this past weekend, because she’s raw and her rough edges, while perhaps more exaggerated, aren’t really all that different from my own. And I like that rawness, that bluntness, the acknowledgement of anger, the free expression of distrust, the acceptance of the evil in the world and the sometime-daily struggle that is getting up in the morning and simply making good decisions.

We talked about Laura cheating on me, and Lauren’s CEO dad calling me, and both wondered aloud how our two weeks of bliss two years ago went to so much shit so fast.

I miss her — Laura. And I think less of myself for that very emotion. How dare such a vile form of life be given so much of my energy, how foolish am I to have squandered my now-scarce affections so freely.

I wish I were a better person. I wish I could constantly be beat up by love and somehow still not be bitter.

Secrets

I missed (Slutbag) a lot this morning. I don't know why. I even went and checked her myspace profile to see about any updates... I guess she went to Vegas last weekend.

She's a slutbag and a whore, and not worthy of my affection or appreciation.

But I still miss her.