Incommunicado: The Art of Bad Relationships

Okay, let’s be honest. How many times have you said one thing to a partner but were thinking something else? Have you ever actually had the thought, or worse, said, “Could you just wait until the [game, show, decade] is over?” during a conversation? Have you ever been accused of not listening?

I know I have. The question is why? Why aren’t we honest, upfront, and real with the partners in our lives? Is it because we get bored? Do we actually lose interest? Are we all just a bunch of douche-bag-idiots determined to screw up our own lives?

Or is it something else?

Being single, I’ve had hours to ponder this question (nothing, and no one, to do will do that to you), and I think I may have discovered a reason, or at least a reasonable excuse, as to why we do this in matters of love. It’s the act of dating, or early courtship, that screws most of us up!

Why dating? Simple. All of us manipulate ourselves to better fit our perceived ideas of what the other wants in a partner. We hide, lie, or hold back the truth about the things we don’t like about ourselves. We push the things that unite us, and stuff those that don’t in a dark closet with the rest of our secret desires, our unfulfilled wants and needs, our unmentionables. We do it easily, and often, and we call it compromise. But, in reality, what it is false advertising. It’s the human equivalent of infomercials. Sure, it slices, it dices, it squirts mustard with the push of a button, but after a year and 4 uses, will you feel it was worth it? Did you really need something that only fulfilled part of your needs? Do you miss the things you stuffed in a drawer to forget?

This is what we do people! We start off not communicating! We don’t offer-up the real me because of the fear that the other person won’t like the real me. We hide our true selves just to have parts and pieces of us loved. Sometimes we do it to just fulfill a physical need. And we do it over, and over, and over again, because we know, we just know, that no one would want the real me.

You know you do it. We all do. Even the best of us are completely screwed up. And the reality is that this unfortunate flaw is built into the very core of our being. We will never change. We will always have difficulty communicating. But it doesn’t mean we have to do it blindly. It doesn’t mean we have to hide everything. It doesn’t mean we have to be afraid of being ourselves.

It means we have to be as much of our real selves as possible. It means we have to let others be as much or their real selves as possible. It means knowing yourself. It means being honest, telling the truth, and dealing with things when they do come up in as rational a manner as possible.

It means communicating.

Still single and unable to talk to girls,

Scott

Lay of the Land

All right them,

I’ve been in rainy, foggy (yep, fog almost every day , hardly ever see the sun)London for a week now, so I guess I can make my presence known before Scott sends out a search and rescue team.

First impressions: unlike Paris (yeah, I’ve been picked up and dated in Paris), the tube (that’s Brit for subway) stations are too cold for people to stand around waiting for the right person to come along and then ask them for a smoke (common Parisian pick-up strategy, if you’re ever there). Everybody’s rushing on the streets, too… I guess no one wants to get wet. Pubs are family places before sundown (who knew), and the food is just as bad as people say.

Now, to be fair, I’ve spent a lot of time at the library in the back room where you have to get special permission, so it’s not like I’ve actually seen a lot of people. A male clerk at a grat organic bath supplies store called Lush was hitting on me, but I’ll bet that’s how he gets female customers to buy more things. And a Brazilian waiter at an Italian restaurant had some fun trying to guess my nationality…

University seminars really start up tomorrow, so I won’t be stuck to my old manuscripts and computer so much this week, and I’ll have more to report. So far: love the weather, love the vibe, hate the food.

S.

What’s In A Kiss?

What is a kiss? Is it a lip-locking, tongue-thrusting, mouth-watering pressure-packed-punch of passion-producing-probing? Or is it soft, sweet, and sensual? Where do your hands go? Are your eyes open? Do you nibble?

I want to know! So, answer the damn polls!!!

Scott
(polls are also available on the Polls Page.)


















































The Poop Schedule — A Question

Okay, this may seem a little weird, but I’ve been noticing a trend at work lately. It seems to me that most of the men at my work take craps there!

Why? Who wants to crap on a toilet that’s not theirs? Who wants to sit in a cold stall, possibly surrounded by other people, and do their business? Not me! I schedule my visits!

And then it hit me, I bet they’re crapping at work so they don’t have to crap at home. Is this because they’ve been asked to do it elsewhere by their loved ones? Or are they doing it because they’re nice guys that don’t want to stink it up?

What do you think?

Ladies? Are these guys doing their business at work because of their wives and girlfriends? Have you ever asked a boyfriend or husband to do this? Would you?

Guys, have you ever been asked to do this? Do you do this? Why?

Still single, especially when nature calls,

Scott

I’m In Love With A Girl That Doesn’t Exist

It’s true. I’m in love with a girl that doesn’t exist. I don’t even know her name. Actually, she doesn’t have a name because she lives in my head. I don’t even really know what she looks like. Sometimes I think she looks like Zooey Deschanel. But most of the time she’s kinda of a blur.

Mostly I know that she doesn’t like all of the same things I do, thinks different from me, and makes me laugh. I like her because she’s “real” with me.

Yeah, I’m in love with a fantasy of a girl that gets pissed at me and tells me no!

I guess I’m kind of a realist when it comes to fantasy (at least the kind of fantasy I can freely divulge on this blog). I think I know why though. I think it’s because deep down, at the core of it all, I’m a desperately practical man. As much crap as I talk, as crazy as I’m able to think, deep down I analyze the situation and take the safe, easy route. The one that won’t land me in jail. The one that won’t rape my wallet. The one that won’t make me look attractive to the kind of girls I really (think I) want to meet.

God I have a lot to change…

Well, my rum and coke is empty, so I guess I’ll stop there.

Is this a good post? I guess I don’t care. I have rum to drink and girls in bikinis in tropical Mexico to watch.

Oh,  and the whole “changing the inner-me” stuff to work on.

Still single and sitting alone in a hotel room drinking rum and thinking about life, my core being, and girls in bikinis,

Scott

[FYI Context Update: As of 1:42 am the author would like to note that a 750 ml bottle of Tommy Bahama (yes, of the Hawaiian Shirt variety) Rum that was 1/4 empty prior to the nights events is now standing at 3/4 empty! Yes, I drank half the bottle tonight! Oops! Scott]

What If… The Post

Hey!! It’s the new game where I come up with random scenarios (that in no way represent me or my life) and you respond with what you would do!!! Yay!!!

So tell all your friends!! (Really, I’m not kidding! Tell them!)

Here’s the first one!

THE POST

It’s a Friday night, you’re alone, and the wine you had earlier has gone to your head (you know you shouldn’t have opened that second bottle). When suddenly, in a fit of latent sexual need and no conscience, you post an ad in the “Casual Encounters” section of Craigslist…

Then next morning, after you’ve washed away the wine-drool from last night, cleaned up the two empty bottles of wine, scrubbed away the faint red circles all over your counters, and thrown away the Taco Bell wrappers of a meal you don’t remember ever getting, you decide you had better check your email. But when you wake your computer, you find your browser still open to Craigslist, and it says…

Thank you for posting “Screw it! Screw me!!!”

“That’s right! I said it! Screw me! Yeah, I may not be in the best of shape, and I may not be the hottest thing in town, but I’m willing and available all weekend!!! So respond with a picture and let’s get it on!!!

Sincerely,

Do Me!!!”

After a few choice expletives, you check your email, and there it is, a response…

“Re: Screw it! Screw me!!!

Are you for real? Because if you are… well, here’s a picture of me. What do you think?”

You scroll down to see the picture and… wow, they’re actually cute.

What do you do?

Still single and now making shit up!!!

Scott

What I Miss Most

When I take the time to stop and reflect on how I feel about my current case of singledom, I generally find that I’m not unhappy being single. Most of the time, I actually kind of enjoy it. It means I can plan my weekends without consulting someone else. It means I don’t have to shave my legs if I don’t want to. It means that I don’t have to deal with someone else’s array of personal issues when I’d rather face my own. I don’t even miss the sex. And really, I don’t get lonely because I can almost always find someone to go to the movies or dinner with me.

What I do miss, is the kissing. Ohhhhh, the kissing. All varieties; the good morning peck, the public lip-lock, the soft and caring forehead kiss, the deeply penetrating “I-Want-You” frenchie. *sigh* There’s something particularly fantastic about kissing, and I’m not the kind of person who can make out with a friend and not feel awkward about it later. I think the joy of kissing is that giddy feeling I used to get as a kid, when kissing was the most intimate thing two people could do together. It was a rush of blood, a facial flush, a galloping heart, and a flip-flopping stomach. Am I alone in remembering those giddy days?

Sealed with a kiss,
HippieChrissey

New Year, New Plan

Scott has commented on his absent co-bloggers, so I thought I’d post a little note.

There have been no new developments in my life, which is why I’ve been away. I have been focusing on investing in my friendships–after all, it’s friends who stick with you when the romantic relationships go sour. I haven’t been meeting new people, and I suppose that’s on purpose. I’m waiting until I feel a little more…marketable?…before I put myself back out there. I have a theory that you can’t be involved in a healthy relationship until you’re in a healthy state of being. So this year will be my year to get healthy and stable. To get into a place where I’m ready to settle down with someone.

But don’t think that means I’ll be staying home alone! I’m most excited about a friend’s Birthday party that will involve a whole new group of lesbians I’ve never met. Look out girls, here I come!

What Gives?

I don’t know about the rest of you, but what the hell happened to my other bloggers???

Still single and now alone in this mad, mad world,

Scott

Changing My Gameplan

2009 was a year of disappointments, weird sexual encounters, and wonderful new friendships. I’m going to focus on the friendship angle. I’m going to look for a friend, a confidant, a companion of the opposite sex. No more desperate dating on desperate websites. No more late night Craigslist adds of questionable intent. No more basing my dating choices strictly on looks. No more searching for meaningless sex. I’m done with all that. Besides, I can’t really have meaningless sex anyway. It always means something, even if it just means I feel guilty later…

So, 2010, you’re here, I’m here… what do you say we get it o… I mean, let’s talk!

Still single and now looking at what’s on the inside,

Scott