Investagatory Journalism

Back in the spring, my roommate's girlfriend told me a mutual acquaintance of ours said I am creepy.  Now, I'm not one for caring much what others say about me, but "creepy" is not something I deal with.  At the very least, I would like to know why said person finds me creepy.  Luckily, I had an an entire summer to stew over it.  I asked her about it last weekend.  She said she meant I'm creepy in a good way, which: What?  How in the world is that a good thing?  She further illustrated: "I find spiders creepy, but they're awesome."

Not too much more helpful.  It was a weird explanation that didn't make sense to me, and I figured she couldn't come up with a better lie immediately.  Not the best end to the story, but whatever.  I put it behind me.  Then, the other night, a friend told me the real reason she finds me creepy is because I'm "always having girls over."

Huh?

So many things here.

1. What are we, Puritans?  I'm in my mid-20's.  Is there something wrong with having guests of the opposite sex?  If so, I missed that notice.
2. The assumption that, when girls are here as my guest, we're doing anything remotely sexual is weird and, ironically, creepy.
3. You know how many women I've had over here in the last year?  Four.  Four.  If that somehow equates to "all the time," standards have been taken to an all-time low.  Steve and I brain conferenced, and in the two and a half years he's lived with me, we came up with seven females I have had here as my guest.  I just thought of another, so that's eight.  Eight.  In two and a half years.  Not only am I not having women over "all the time," the exact opposite is true.  Women are rarely darkening my doorstep.

I think that showed her!  Yeah, I totally came out on top!   

Organizing the Chaos of My Mind

Anybody who has had a 2-minute conversation with me knows my mind is a labyrinth of thought.  I struggle as much as anyone else to make sense of what's going on up there.  Things pop in and out without any real warning or purpose.  I also love writing in this blog, but I'm not always in the right time or place to write about what's on my mind.  Often, if I don't do it immediately, I'll forget.

At some point, I found that writing down what I later wanted to address here was a good way of putting my thoughts on layaway.  Problem is, I'm really bad at not getting back to things I put off for another time.  As a result, I have several Post-It notes with writing ideas scribbled on them.  A few have been crossed out because I actually did write on the topic, but for the most part, it's a growing list.  I feel like a hapless bureaucrat of myself, the inbox of work mounting with precious few making it to the outbox.

You Really Like Me

In addition to posting my entries on Blogger, Facebook also imports all my pieces to my Facebook account. Sometimes people will use the "like" function on those posts. I don't know what exactly that means, and it really bothers me.

The Man Across the Net

The human existence is driven by rivalries. We thrive on competition, even if that rivalry is with ourselves. Think about it: The Cold War was really just a rivalry with the US and Soviet Union. Politics thrives on rivalries, especially in this country. You have a rivalry with at least one of your friends in something. The instinct to one-up is hardwired inside us.

This is doubly true in sports. They don't just thrive on rivalries, we need them. If we don't have them, we create them. They are the most important part of the season. The effects of a rivalry are astounding. Winning that game means more than any other win, except a championship. It inspires players to raise their games higher than they had before or knew they could. A rivalry brings more attention and interest to a game than it otherwise would. It's art (sports) imitating life.

I had a rivalry of sorts in my high school career. I say "of sorts" because it was one-sided, and as the old saying goes, it's not a rivalry if one side wins all the time. It was with one of my teammates, Andy Keller.

Andy was/is a friend of mine. We had a lot in common, we were teammates, we had some gym classes together. We saw each other a lot back in the day. He's a good guy.

While I had started playing tennis in middle school, he didn't pick up the sport until his sophomore year of high school (my freshman year). When he joined the team and he wasn't very good, of course, because he didn't yet know how to play. So we played a couple times and I beat him. He started the year on the JV team.

He proved a quick study, moving up to second doubles by the time the season ended. When the next season rolled around, he was a lot better. All of a sudden, I couldn't beat him. His friend Jason also joined the team, and while he wasn't a very good tennis player, he was such a good athlete it was extremely difficult to get a ball by him, and he won matches that way. I wasn't good enough at that time to beat somebody like him, so I went from thinking I was going to be one of the best three best players on the team to not being able to beat a guy I could before and this other guy that had just picked up a racquet.

It was frustrating. I thought I was getting better, but Andy clearly was, too. I never beat him in those last two years he was on the team, and I haven't beaten him since¹. Andy, in fact, was the #1 singles player on the team his senior year². Is he better than me? Yes, but not so much so that he should beat me 100% of the time. He's a little bit faster than me, a little bit stronger, a little bit tougher mentally. Having a lot of little advantages really adds up, more than you might think. I had better volleys and a better second serve, but he made it tough for me to get up to the net.

It came down to my mentality. I didn't think I could beat him, so I never did. One time we were playing and we had to quit tied 5-5. We picked it up the next day, and all I could think was, "Just don't lose the next eight points in a row." What did I do? Exactly that. Why did I do that? Stupid. What made it worse was it would almost always be by close scores; I would just fold at the critical moments.

For his part, I doubt Andy ever saw it this way. Like I said, we were friends, and he was always nice and encouraging. I pulled out an old yearbook not long ago and read what we wrote. Not only did it make me laugh out loud, but I also noticed how he went out of his way to try and pump me up. So maybe I didn't have the requisite anger to really want to beat him for any reason other than my own ego.

One irony about all of this is that I haven't played since I realized all this. I really think I can beat him now. It's partially because I think I'm stronger mentally, but mostly because he doesn't really play anymore. We just don't live near each other these days. It's sad, because we still get along well.

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1 I could beat Jason, who was almost as good.

2 I suspect Joe Ziska intentionally allowed Andy to beat him before positions were set so that Joe could play easier opponents. All three of our singles players that year were pretty close in skill, which was good for the team.

Have Cake, Will Eat

Anyone who knows me at least a little knows I spend the vast majority of my time single. And, once upon a time¹, it's something I whined a lot about. I sort of got suckered in by seeing romance on TV and movies, sadly. I felt like I was missing out on the human experience by not having a girl to do things hand-in-hand with.

Oh, but I had a plan. I was going to go to college, meet my wife, get married, and start life from there. It was beautiful, simple, and guaranteed to work. As you can likely ascertain, that did not happen. I'm sure the 18-year-old version of myself would have considered this a failure at life. The current version does not share that opinion.

If anything, I've grown accustomed to, and perhaps even come to expect, the single life. At heart, I'm an independent person. I want to do whatever I want, whenever I want. I don't want to have to account for my whereabouts with someone else or have to worry about another person's schedule or opinion when figuring out what I want to do².

When you're in a relationship, the primary price you pay is your freedom³. I've had it for so long, I don't know what I would do without it. That would be a huge adjustment for me. I'm an American, right? Am I not supposed to cherish freedom? Freedom and guns? A subset of that is the expectations. You're expected to "check in" every so often, whether you want to or not. I bristle at that.

I've always wondered why so many people end up pairing off. I find it hard (if not impossible) to believe everyone is happy in a marriage/lifetime relationship. Why do it? Tax benefit? Societal pressure? Fear of living alone? Child rearing? I don't know. Maybe I'll ask the next miserable-looking couple I see⁴.

I'm at that age where more and more friends are getting married. This scares the crap out of me. Are you people all insane? What is wrong with you? My best friend has been married for more than a year and a half now. I don't know how his head has stayed attached to his neck. Someone very prominent in my life recently intimated to me his/her future husband/wife is his/her current boy/girlfriend. My first thought? "No! This can't be! I'm not ready for this!" How do you people do it?

I've yet to have an actual adult relationship, so maybe I have it all wrong. I've had flings- more than I thought I would- and I won't deny they were fun. Perhaps I enjoy the thrill of something new. Maybe when it comes down to it, I'm terrified of a committed relationship and I subconsciously pick girls I know it can't work with or I sabotage it. I don't know, but it's an interesting theory.

I've gotten used to my life as it is. If anything, a girl coming along for the first time annoys me more than anything else. This is for a couple reasons: 1. I expect things to fail. 2. It messes up my routine, such as it is. Suddenly, I have to start thinking about that other person. I have to try talking to them⁵, which means I have to start putting other things around it. It's annoying, but I feel like I have to at least try⁶. I mean, hey, there's a girl, and I'm interested... something good might happen, right? Right? So then I find annoyed at the girl for being the reason I'm changing things up. Of course, she's completely innocent in the matter and never did anything wrong to deserve such feelings. As a result, I get even more annoyed at myself for being annoyed. It's a nice little circle.

In other words, I don't want to try, except I do. And I want things to change, but stay exactly to same. That's not asking too much.

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1 High school. I have no idea why anyone put up with me back then; I was insufferable.

2 Like last summer when I went to Cincy for three days to see the tennis tournament. I didn't tell anyone. I just went. That's freedom you can't buy.

3 But considering how few people choose to be single for life, it must be worth it. Still, I find that a bit crazy.

4 I could launch a full sociological study at the Athens County Fair alone.

5 But not too much! And not too enthusiastically! It's beyond stupid.

6 Otherwise, I have cousins thinking I'm gay.

Checking In

So, I had started updating this blog again with some semblance of regularity; I even had started my longish ballot post on Election Night. I didn't get to finish it right away because I was pretty busy.

And it's not like I haven't had the time or desire to post; I've had things on my mind and plenty of opportunity to opine.

The problem was, three weeks ago I dislocated my shoulder. I was at the OU/BG football game and did the giant hamster ball race at halftime. I fell during the race, and that was that. I knew immediately my joint was not where it was supposed to be. But hey, if you're gonna injure yourself, do it in front of 15,000 people, right?

I was taken out of Peden in an ambulance. If you're keeping score, I've been escorted out of The Convo by police and taken out of Peden in an ambulance. I think I'm the only person that can claim that. Now that I think about it, how many people on this Earth can even claim similar, um, achievements?

Anyway, I've been out of my sling for less than a week. I couldn't work, and typing with one hand just isn't worth it. I'm rehabbing the shoulder and trying to catch up. I also have to get going with my MAC Report Online writing; that had to be put on hold as well.

So I'll get some posts thrown up here, just not at the speed I would like, most likely. The suckiest part is that I'm in Twinsburg again for the holiday season, and my laptop's wireless modem sucks so bad it can't pick anything up at anything but close distances. We'll see how this goes.

Don't Shoot the Soldiers

Much to my surprise, I got a text from my ex. I didn't get around to actually reading it for a day or so; this is not uncommon practice for me. When I read it, I saw it was a request for my address. Apparently one going into Basic Training can't have their phone and can only communicate with ye olde paper.

So I gave her my address. I don't particularly desire for her to write me or not write me, but if she does write, I'll return the favor. After all, she's going into the military, and she deserves at least that much respect, right? Even if every time I have contact with her it's almost unbearably weird, I'll suck it up.

Yeah, I'm Kind of Weird

Last night, before crawling into bed, I turned on my iTunes (I like to have music playing while I sleep). First thing that came on was "Jump Around" by House of Pain.

"Perfect," I thought.

El Mago

I have a long-standing fascination with illusions. There's just something alluring about seeing something that isn't really there, or something that distorts reality. I'm not talking about Magic Eyes; those things are stupid. But classic optical illusions? I'm all over it. I'll stare at them for an hour. One of my favorite characters I played in Dungeons & Dragons was a wizard that specialized in illusions. Illusions are powerful; they can change reality itself.

These days, I wonder how much of my life is an illusion and how much of it I've created. Pursuant to the same point, how much of it do I believe? I'm coming to think that quite often I fool myself into believing things are a lot better than they really are. If reality isn't up to snuff, I'll change it to suit my needs. It's fun, but behind the veil, the glamer doesn't exist and the world doesn't react to it. In time, the illusion fails and I'm left seeing a bleaker picture than I thought possible. One that is all too real.

How much of it do I create myself? And if I do, how do I stop it? Do I want to stop it? Is reality that bad, or am I imagining what is false to justify a different kind of fiction? Does this even make sense anymore?

I look around and see everyone else with their roots in strong truth, no need to invent a grinning mask. At the same time, what is my truth? Life itself seems to throw various illusions my way; what I thought was one thing turned out to be something else entirely. Perhaps reality and I have an adversarial relationship. But I don't feel like anyone else has this problem, so who do I talk to about this? All too often, I say, "This would only happen to me." And it seems that too many people agree. Maybe it's all a lie. Maybe I don't know what to believe anymore.

But I have been driving around with the windows down, and I kept one rolled down even though I'm not driving it. It's getting warmer, and that's no illusion.

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Now playing: Messiah - You're Going Insane
via FoxyTunes

Not That I Pretend to Have Anything Figured Out, But...

Last night, the phone rang. This is a fairly seldom occurrence on its own, so I'm usually surprised when it happens. What nearly shocked me though was that "Immigrant Song" was playing from the phone. That's the ex-girlfriend's ringtone. I hadn't bothered to change it, because why would I? So I just sat there for a moment, making sure I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. Yep, sure was. I stared at the phone for a couple seconds. Should I answer it? Sure.

What followed amounted to an admission on her part. She had problems. She was doing things she shouldn't have been doing, and she realizes fully what that meant at last. There were people she hurt, so she wanted to apologize to those people.

I never expected an apology, so getting one was a pleasant surprise. Yeah, it felt good. If someone comes to me and I think they're contrite, I'm pretty quick to forgive. Some may say that's a bad thing, but I disagree with those people. If she's serious about fixing things, I want to help her in whatever way I can. I hope she can, because there's so much good that can come of it if she does.

In my hurry to get to tonight's basketball game- and by hurry, I mean arrive before the one hour to tip countdown started- I left my keys in the car. And for whatever reason, I liked it on the way out. And for pretty much the first time, I elected to do so by pressing the button on the door. I don't think I had ever done it that was before. Why did I do that? No idea. Possible subconscious sabotage, maybe. But I didn't even realize this until the game was over (four straight for the Cats!), so I had to tromp to Tim's place in the rain- wasn't good for my wig- and call the police to help me.

They came, but they couldn't get the door open. Phone calls were made, and a locksmith was found. The game probably ended in the 9:30 range, and this episode didn't resolve until about 12:45. Outstanding. Plus, whatever the police did trying to get the door open, the passenger door doesn't open from the outside anymore. For those of us keeping score, I've locked myself out of my car and my apartment in the span of 10 days. Go me.

Watch It, Old Man

It's a sad moment in your life when you say the following to yourself without a hint of irony: "Stop trying to do that. You're not 17 anymore." For whatever reason, I've started thinking of myself as 24, even though I don't turn 24 for several months. Bah. I think this is really only a tennis thing; I keep thinking about the glory days (such as they were) of high school.

I'm not old. I still look 16, and my maturity level is probably less than that. But... I feel a little proud of myself. I finally bought and assembled a desk and a chair. Yes, before this, I was sitting on the floor when using the computer. I actually have furniture now. Go me. If anyone knows me, you know this is something of a major accomplishment for me, as I'm so terrible at such things.

Also, I got access to ESPN 360, and they're showing five matches AT A TIME! Holy crap! Good times ahead. And the Harlem Globetrotters are going to be here Wednesday... game against Akron Thursday... life is looking pretty good. Just stop snowing.

Only 10 and a Half Hours...

...until the month of Madness. Are you excited? I'm excited.

(And yes, I know, I haven't posted in forever. But I will soon. Really. I'm just working on very little sleep right now and I ramble on incoherently enough as it is.)