A rant at 6am:
Tonight, I saw fights for free. I recognized some people and was recognized by some people. That made me feel like my career was actually progressing. I attended a fight for free, then went to the afterparty, then got into to a Xini party, which is the brand of an elite afterparty where "you have to know somebody" or shell out like $600 per month (legit estimate) to be included. This was my second Xini party and it gave me a (false) sense of accessibility. At said party, I struck up a great conversation with this pretty and intelligent college girl who's studying international development. She hopes to go to Southeast Asia or Africa. Unfortunately, that didn't progress, although I was inspired to "chase" after her. As the chaos of parties goes, I ended up meeting some other girls with my buddy, and they were flirty, fun, and friendly. That didn't work out either, but regardless - in both instances, I fared better than I have any business doing in such a see-or-be-seen atmosphere. I didn't let the surroundings handle me, I handled myself. And I handled myself fine.
But the night ends and I drop off my buddies. Now as I mentioned to my buddy, who was even more intimidated than I, but had more going for him, the fact is that 99% of these women aren't girlfriend (let alone wife) material anyway. But yet the girls I struck a fancy for didn't work out, and I did want them. The point of this dilemna - I wanted, but I didn't get.
Not to mention that I then start to think that She is having a wonderful relationship without me. She's happy with her boyfriend, and she'd never get caught whoring her integrity (I'm just trying to meet a fun girl) or morally slumming as I am doing just by being there. No, she knew what she was doing stepping away, and proof of that is that Jay, you've coattailed your way into a party that you've got no business being at.
Which of course only aggrivates the awkwardness already in my head. But let's discuss that awkwardness first:
Obvious first question is "what went wrong," but the answers are (as always) complicated and speculative at best. Jay doesn't have a good batting average in these ballparks. . . they weren't looking for what you were looking for (a phone number, maybe an innocent kiss). . . . you could have had it, but you weren't quick enough with the comeback, you didn't take the convo in the direction you should have ("dumbass, don't actually talk to the girl -- FLIRT with her). . . that other guy / her girlfriend was going to cockblock you no matter what. . .
Whatever. In the end, its a futile waste of time to even host this concern anyhow. Stepping away from here, and of course, in the back of my head, I know that I shouldn't sweat this. C'mon, I know what I'm about, I don't need this scene to validate myself (in fact, I've done just fine without it), everybody else is just faking it as well anyway.
And yet I host this concern. And I offer it slippers, a drink, and the remote control. Why?
Y'know, when I wake up tomorrow (ahem, later today), I'll be over all of this. I'll look around my apartment, remember that I'm psyched to tackle the tasks I have for today, think back about how blessed I am to have my own self-awareness, friends, family, aspirations, values, etc., and I'll have forgotten about what bothered me tonight to begin with. But for now, I find myself fascinated by why I let these unfounded paranoias and glass-half-empty thoughts get to me. I know better, and yet I still, based on tonight's performance, think the worst about my history and social skills.
I reiterate, I KNOW BETTER. But it still does get to me, fleetingly as it is.. And to confirm, yes, its the hole in my armor that fascinates me more than the mentally toxic dart with which I shot myself. I thought I had build a pretty damn good chain mail of confidence and awarenss.
Hmf, must be the flalwed humanity in me.
Some dude tonight quoted Jay-Z as saying "Hollywood, its the most addictive drug." Damn, Jigga said that?!? Now I'm impressed. Speaking to tonight's conclusion, I remind myself that too much of anything is a bad thing -- including self-awareness.
I'm not sure if I've made my point or not. It feels like it, as I type this, but I'm also very tired and I'd love to sleep. Moreover, I remember that I had fun talking with artists, aspiring / independent comic book publishers, and Fractal (wuddup, girl!) at Wizard World on Friday, and that also makes me feel better. Yeah, I know what I like, and in the end, that is really good enough for me.
So maybe I'll email the girl who has our photos and give it a shot after all. Besides, whats the worst that could happen?
Rant over. Thanks for reading.
Edited to Add: She emailed back. She's sending party pictures later this week. Word to Big Bird.
Updated Addendum: Shit, I got the Heisman. Boyfriend. Whatever, I'm still gonna consider this a scrimmage. Game still on!
Tonight, I saw fights for free. I recognized some people and was recognized by some people. That made me feel like my career was actually progressing. I attended a fight for free, then went to the afterparty, then got into to a Xini party, which is the brand of an elite afterparty where "you have to know somebody" or shell out like $600 per month (legit estimate) to be included. This was my second Xini party and it gave me a (false) sense of accessibility. At said party, I struck up a great conversation with this pretty and intelligent college girl who's studying international development. She hopes to go to Southeast Asia or Africa. Unfortunately, that didn't progress, although I was inspired to "chase" after her. As the chaos of parties goes, I ended up meeting some other girls with my buddy, and they were flirty, fun, and friendly. That didn't work out either, but regardless - in both instances, I fared better than I have any business doing in such a see-or-be-seen atmosphere. I didn't let the surroundings handle me, I handled myself. And I handled myself fine.
But the night ends and I drop off my buddies. Now as I mentioned to my buddy, who was even more intimidated than I, but had more going for him, the fact is that 99% of these women aren't girlfriend (let alone wife) material anyway. But yet the girls I struck a fancy for didn't work out, and I did want them. The point of this dilemna - I wanted, but I didn't get.
Not to mention that I then start to think that She is having a wonderful relationship without me. She's happy with her boyfriend, and she'd never get caught whoring her integrity (I'm just trying to meet a fun girl) or morally slumming as I am doing just by being there. No, she knew what she was doing stepping away, and proof of that is that Jay, you've coattailed your way into a party that you've got no business being at.
Which of course only aggrivates the awkwardness already in my head. But let's discuss that awkwardness first:
Obvious first question is "what went wrong," but the answers are (as always) complicated and speculative at best. Jay doesn't have a good batting average in these ballparks. . . they weren't looking for what you were looking for (a phone number, maybe an innocent kiss). . . . you could have had it, but you weren't quick enough with the comeback, you didn't take the convo in the direction you should have ("dumbass, don't actually talk to the girl -- FLIRT with her). . . that other guy / her girlfriend was going to cockblock you no matter what. . .
Whatever. In the end, its a futile waste of time to even host this concern anyhow. Stepping away from here, and of course, in the back of my head, I know that I shouldn't sweat this. C'mon, I know what I'm about, I don't need this scene to validate myself (in fact, I've done just fine without it), everybody else is just faking it as well anyway.
And yet I host this concern. And I offer it slippers, a drink, and the remote control. Why?
Y'know, when I wake up tomorrow (ahem, later today), I'll be over all of this. I'll look around my apartment, remember that I'm psyched to tackle the tasks I have for today, think back about how blessed I am to have my own self-awareness, friends, family, aspirations, values, etc., and I'll have forgotten about what bothered me tonight to begin with. But for now, I find myself fascinated by why I let these unfounded paranoias and glass-half-empty thoughts get to me. I know better, and yet I still, based on tonight's performance, think the worst about my history and social skills.
I reiterate, I KNOW BETTER. But it still does get to me, fleetingly as it is.. And to confirm, yes, its the hole in my armor that fascinates me more than the mentally toxic dart with which I shot myself. I thought I had build a pretty damn good chain mail of confidence and awarenss.
Hmf, must be the flalwed humanity in me.
Some dude tonight quoted Jay-Z as saying "Hollywood, its the most addictive drug." Damn, Jigga said that?!? Now I'm impressed. Speaking to tonight's conclusion, I remind myself that too much of anything is a bad thing -- including self-awareness.
I'm not sure if I've made my point or not. It feels like it, as I type this, but I'm also very tired and I'd love to sleep. Moreover, I remember that I had fun talking with artists, aspiring / independent comic book publishers, and Fractal (wuddup, girl!) at Wizard World on Friday, and that also makes me feel better. Yeah, I know what I like, and in the end, that is really good enough for me.
So maybe I'll email the girl who has our photos and give it a shot after all. Besides, whats the worst that could happen?
Rant over. Thanks for reading.
Edited to Add: She emailed back. She's sending party pictures later this week. Word to Big Bird.
Updated Addendum: Shit, I got the Heisman. Boyfriend. Whatever, I'm still gonna consider this a scrimmage. Game still on!
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And yes I know about that tat but understand, I'll always have a fond place in my heart for what SG used to mean to me, I just don't feel the same way anymore.
I hope all is well!