The Allegory of The Burning House

A man stands on the street in front of his house, looking up at it with the fierce pride of creation, the pride of self, on his architectural achievement. A second man walks up and stands next to the first and gazes at the house in astonishment. Quickly he says to the first man, "Sir! Your house is on fire!"

The first man replies, "Yes, it is a fine house."

Confused and thinking the first man must have misheard him, the second man again tells him, "Your beautiful home will burn to the ground unless you put out that fire!" And to his astonishment, the first man turns to him with a look of slight annoyance, as one might give to a child who should not meddle in things he does not understand.

"Sir, I built this house, and that fire is a part of my house. If I put out that fire my house will not be mine any longer." He then turns back to gaze at his house once more. The fire spreads from just one of the upper windows to a second. The glass on the first window shatters causing a massive fireball to shoot outward. Both men duck instinctively and the first man gives a nervous chuckle, "See how well I have built my house? The neighbors are surely jealous of my superior work. This is truly the best way to build a house." He shakes off the initial nerves and sets his feet against imaginary resistance to his masterwork.

The second man, being a person of unbounded care and compassion, implores the man to see reason, to see that if he does not stop the fire now, there will be no more house of which he may be proud. The fire, he says, will consume the whole thing.

"Nonsense!" Exhorts the first man, "There are many ways to build a house, but this is the one I have chosen, and this one works best for me!" He is clearly growing impatient with the second man, and he wonders how the second man could be so stupid as to not see the simple genius of his house. Clearly the second man is a man of sub-normal intelligence.

"Look!" Shouts the second man, he is growing desperate for the first to see reason and save his house, for the construction is indeed beautiful and masterful. "The fire has spread to the houses next to yours! And look further! The neighbors have begun using water to stop the fire! Their houses will remain standing. Why then sir, will you not do the same for your own, beautiful house?"

Violently, the first man screams at the second, "Their way is not mine! And mine is perfectly acceptable! In fact, it is they who have destroyed their homes by not accepting the fire as part of their house!" He breathes heavily after his outburst, but coughs as the smoke drifts toward them in dark masses. The second man, unable to hold his composure any longer, lunges forward, "There is still time to save your house!" He collects the neighbors that have gathered to watch the blaze and rallies them to action, forming a bucket line and setting up hoses. The first man watches in astonishment for a few moments. For one instant, he see's the the love that this stranger has for something that is not even his own, the hatred the stranger has for the fire which, uncontrolled, has now spread to more than half the house. But it is only an instant.

"Get away from my house!" Bellows the first man, and he bars the way in. The neighbors struggle to get past him, but it is too late. The blaze now burns so hot that they cannot get close to the house and so they set to dousing their own houses with water, keeping them safe from the inferno. "Cowards!" The first man chokes out. He cannot breathe through the smoke that is issuing forth from the destroyed door and shattered windows. His flesh cooks as the flames lick his back. Finally, saved only by his animal instinct for survival, the first man rushes away from his house which has begun to collapse, completely engulfed in flame.

The next morning, the man still sits on the opposite side of the street, staring at the heap of ashes that was his house. The second man approaches him and asks him why he let it go so far, why did he not save the house, or permit the neighbors to help him save it? The first man chokes out a reply between breathy sobs, "I built my house my way. My own way. Everybody is entitled to do things the way they like."

The second man reasons softly, "But sir, your house was on fire."

"But it was my fire! It was a part of my house! It should not have destroyed my house. It is my opinion that the fire should have been a part of the house, and everybody is entitled to their own opinion!" The first man finishes his sentence in a whine, weakness and lack of conviction oozing from every word.

His kindness and unwillingness to accept the madness before him causes the second man to ask one final set of questions of the first, "Where sir, did you come by this fire, what was it doing in your house to begin with? Where did you come by the notion that fire belongs in the house?"

Succeeding only in a mockery of composure, the first man replies, "It is my opinion, that the uniqueness of a house on fire gives it beauty. It is the fire that gave my house it's superiority over the boring, and placed me higher than those sheep who could not see the value of the fire. And since it is my opinion, it cannot be wrong. Everybody is entitled to their opinion."

"But where sir, did the fire come from?"

The first man scoffs, able even in his misery to register scorn for one so stupid as the second man, "I set the fire myself."

Standing and walking away, the second man spits over his shoulder, for he can no longer muster any respect for this poor excuse for a living being, "This fire that you held onto, which damaged and destroyed all that you've worked so hard for, can never do anything other than that which it has done. Though useful when harnessed properly, it is not an opinion that fire is destructive. It is a fact."

The first man stares after the second and watches him enter his own beautiful home. He cries bitterly into his hands about how unfair life is and how could he be so cursed as to always end up surrounded by people who just don't understand him and his genius. How dare the second man say that the opinions of the first were what led him to this destruction. That fire was important to the identity of the house he wanted to build, he was sure of it, and he contemplated that perhaps he set it in the wrong room.

Corruption or Virtue in Holding to Personal Standards and Values

I was in psych class today, and I cannot remember for the life of me what the teacher was talking about, but something he said struck me powerfully and caused me to write this sentence in my notebook: "The focus that you choose determines your reality for what defines your self worth."

This single sentence (I'm in love with the idea of simplification to a single succinct definition, even though oversimplification can be a negative thing) describes something that I have been experiencing over the past couple of months, culminating in a small incident this afternoon.

To give background: Over winter break (December to January) I read The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. In it she gives insight into her philosophy (Objectivism) through the actions and dialog of her characters, particularly Howard Roark, who is her ideal standard of virtue and the poster boy figure of the perfect Objectivist. One major theme is the concept of individual, personal standards, as well as having a purpose in life that brings you great joy and fullfillment. In the case of Roark, it is Architecture.

When I came back to school, I found myself less interested in girls. Not to say I wasn't interested in women, far from it, however I was less attracted to certain women and moreso to others and did not make it my focus of attention that I must rack up the numbers. I've even begun leaning in the direction of being very open to the idea of an exclusive monogamous relationship, which prior to this, was absolutely out of the question for me. My focus grew more on school and achievement, on discovering my purpose and those things that bring me joy, apart from women. Consequently I discovered screenwriting and rediscovered my love of teaching, taken a greater interest in my fitness/health, and have begun to move away from pickup (I had Sinn's natural attraction DVD come in the mail and I just shelved it for the first few weeks I had it because I didn't really care to watch it, where previously I would have put in headphones, locked the door, and taken diligent notes as soon as I had recieved it) but it's enough to leave it at that.

As I delve deeper into Rand, especially in Atlas Shrugged, her philosophy becomes deeper and more complete. I feel, basically, that she is putting words and firmly rational thought patterns, to things that I've felt my whole life and never been able to articulate. Although I don't agree with every word, idea, and concept she presents in it, one of her character's speeches hit me particularly hard, Francisco D'Anconia's speech to Hank Rearden about sex and morality. In it, he talks about how some men seek to reverse the law of causality. They seek self-esteem through sex, where sex should rather be the product of self-esteem. This in particular describes(ed) me.

If I were to describe my life philosophy up to this point in a single sentence (as I've said I love to do) it would be that men cannot succeed in anything, or have any sort of lasting and fullfilling happiness, unless they first handle their love life. As an example, a man could rise to the top of his chosen profession, be envied by all, but if he still sucks with women and cannot be with the type he chooses, he will feel hollow and empty, like all of it was for nothing. He - this philosophy would hypothesize - would feel frustrated that he has everything, and yet he still can't get a girl and sex, one of his most basic needs and desires.

I had a conversation with my buddy Millenium awhile back where I articulated exactly this. He wanted to focus more on his lifestyle, his career, and his ambitions in order for women to become a biproduct of his lifestyle. I believed that I could never put the kind of focus required of a great endeavour like Roark does with architecture into the doing of it, because I am so enamoured with women and can't have any or the quality that I would. That, although I would enjoy the thing I was doing, I would always know in the back of my mind that if my sexual needs were completely satisfied, I could do it better. Therefore, I should become a master with women before attempting to discover my real purpose. I think I actually said to Millenium, "You're following the traditional wisdom, I'm reversing it, starting from the end and moving backward." Oh, Francisco D'Anconia.

The error that both of us made was that we caused women to become both the reason and the end game for any sort of development.

I digress, however. The main point is that my focus, after getting involved in reading Ayn Rand, shifted from women as my purpose, to my purpose as my purpose, whatever that may be.

But today and over the past few weeks I gathered even more evidence to support my original life philosophy. As much as I was more interested in my body, writing, and living to my own standard, I sitll have the lingering desire for women, and the lingering, poisonous idea of basing self worth on number and quality of women and sex a person has in his life.

Background on today's inciting incident:
This girl that I mentioned in my rebuilding the habit post, I'll call her California, entered back into my life. We've become fast friends, and every time we talk its flirty and fun. We were facebook chatting a few days ago and I mentioned I wanted to get a haircut, a new style, but I was wary of dropping $100 on a haircut. She says "omg i cut hair!" I said, that's cool, she said she could cut my hair, I said I dunno, she said she cuts her own (which is amazing hair) and I asked if she could do men's hair, knew about men's styles, and could work with my curly hair. She said yes to all three and we made an "appointment" for her to cut my hair on Wednesday (yesterday). I confirmed with her the day before, and she said she has to work, but gets off at 9, and I could come over after, I said ok how about 10, she said yes. I confirmed again at about 8:30 last night, she was down, then she called me about 9:30 and said she was afraid to cut my hair because she doesn't know how to cut curly hair. I laughed at her, we had a good flirty conversation on the phone, and I told her to look at some facebook pictures of my hair, and if she couldn't think of something, just call me back and we don't have to do it. She said ok.

10:30 rolls around and she still hasn't called me. I figured she had decided not to do it and was too afraid to turn me down, so I called her to give her the chance to complain a little and I could back out for her. She didn't answer the phone and didn't call back. I just left it at that, taking the sign for what it was. Today I saw her at school (she doesn't go here) and I called out "California! what are you doing here?" She smiled awkwardly, looked a little sheepish, and pointed at her hot friend who does go here, and walked off without saying anything. My interpretation was that she was a little ashamed of her behavior and surprised at seeing me, and sought to avoid the awkwardness.

And here is where I tie everything together. I spent the next hour in class writhing over this issue. How unfair that she should take her own weakshit behavior and use it as a reason to push us apart! I'll have to confront her and tell her it isn't a big deal! No! Confrontation is what women always avoid, don't do that shit! This really bothers me! Why isn't this not a big deal hoooolllly shit.

And it was at that point that I wrote the line in my notebook from up above.

The last few weeks, my focus has again shifted. For awhile, I didn't care so much about women, I could go to a party, not meet any new ones or make any connections, and not feel bad about it later. It was great. Except I wasn't getting laid, but I assured myself it would happen of it's own accord so long as I handle my own shit to my fullest ability. I still believe this, but I also still believe the life philosophy I wrote up above. These two beliefs are not fully compatible.

As I grow hornier, my focus is shifting toward women and pickup again, away from my own self and a selfish life.

The title of this post comes from the paradox of it being virtuous to hold to your personal standards, but it remains possible for your personal standards to be corrupt and the root of your unhappiness. I say this, not as a blanket statement for all people and all lifestyles and philosophy, but rather to myself at this point in my life. I'm arrogant, but not so much that I think this will apply to everyone, not with my current life experience at least.

Going back to my original statement that inspired this post, "The focus that you choose determines your reality for what defines your self worth," we can finally arrive at my conclusion. Depending on what your focus is in life, that choice of focus will direct how you interpret (your reality) what will define how you measure your personal worth. If Architecture is your focus, your personal standards may be how satisfied you are with your building, what price you were able to design it for, etc etc. If your focus is women, your standard (or even currency) of self worth, at least in my case, becomes how many and what quality of women you are sleeping with. This is one of the most poisonous mindsets possible. The worst of it comes out when you aren't getting laid (me right now). You begin to hate everyone around you who has a girl, who is getting laid, and eventually, if you go down the path far enough, begin to identify any person who is having sex with anybody other than you, as promiscuous and morally bankrupt. Currently I'm only at the stage where I'm becoming frustrated that the women I find attractive don't seem to reciprocate (and even this isn't entirely true, they just aren't showing the kind of interest that I currently wish they would).

I realized my focus had shifted when I caught myself feeling such despair and anger over so small an event regarding a woman. I had no idea I placed so much value on it.

The direction that I want to take myself in, is to have a separate standard for women. They should be the secondary, or even tertiary standard by which I appraise my worth. I'll have to develop that thought more fully.

Valentines Day and other stuff

I had an enjoyable night so I figured it warrants a write up.

This was the first Valentines Day in recent memory where I didn't feel down or upset or pressured to have a girl around. I actually realized, midway through dialing LittleOne's number, that I didn't want to call her on V-Day because of all of the expectations and weirdness that comes along simply because of what day it is. So I didn't.

I headed out to Puppykins' birthday party at a friends' house, came in, decided I would drink but not a lot, and just sat down to play some caught in the web with some friends (that game always cracks me up). Met a decently cute girl, flirted with Beej (who I decided I'm just not going to show any interest in whatsoever. She's gotta be banging my door down in lingerie if she wants it, after the weirdness she pulled). When people started showing up, I've seen this before, but it's always hilarious to me; every girl who was single was dressed to the nine's. Makeup, dresses, pushup bras, the whole shebang. It was especially funny to me because it was a kegger at not the classiest place in the world, and especially without a classy theme. These girls were dressed simply to attract male attention because somebody arbitrarily set a day where you HAVE to have somebody around or you're a failure and have to hate yourself. That's how I used to feel, this time I just enjoyed myself.

Doa (I've mentioned her briefly on here I believe in my homecoming post, and she's the girl who inspired my last post) has two friends who showed up, we'll call them Spain (because her name sounds like a spanish city) and Emo (because I like her hair and tongue piercing). Spain is pretty cute and tends to throw herself at guys, whether she likes them or not, but is super friendly and I enjoy her company. She definitely wants my dick. Emo is a lot of fun and at our last dance, designed her whole outfit to fit around her having a pierced tongue and told me I was her favorite, shes got a gorgeous face but is an all around bigger girl (not fat, but taller and a little chub, but she carries it well).

What was interesting about this was that I'm so interested in Doa, that I actually managed to contain myself and not hook up with either Spain or Emo (Spain was a for sure, Emo was a probably). however, I did write out an exception. I WOULD locking myself out with Doa for the chance at a threesome with both Emo and Spain. Early in the night, this seemed almost assured.

Doa showed up to the party a little later and came up to me, giving me her usual big hug and head on my shoulder, and introduced me to her imported dick for the evening. This was wonderful. When I thought that I had completely lost my chance with Doa (inspiring my angst fueld latenight "reminder" post) I started to hate her. I wanted to hurt her emotionally, I wanted her to walk in on me banging her best friend, I wanted her to throw herself at me just so I could have the satisfaction of turning her down, I wanted her to realize that I was an incredible catch and beat her self up for ever putting us to chance. My rationalization at the time was akin to this, "If you treat her in your mind like she's your enemy, just a dumb bitch who you don't like, you'll be able to act more aloof and attractive around her and your natural distance will spark more attraction." Seriously. This is how I used to think in high school, and I HATED women in high school. I don't hate women anymore, and I had a small revelation when I became conscious of this line of reasoning behind my feelings and fantasies about Doa.

It really is so much easier to hate something than to love it, and hate is yet another self defense mechanism designed to keep my fragile sense of self from "collapsing," or so it fears. It allows me to shift blame for things not turning out the way I had originally intended, from me, onto them. It's not that I wasn't man enough to make things happen, it's that she's a blind dumb bitch who can't see what a catch I am. It's not that I'm upset over not being with her, it's that she's a slut and I have higher standards than that and she doesn't deserve a guy like me. Hate is the defense mechanism that allows me to feel better about myself in the face of rejection, rather than own up to the fact that I didn't do so well as I should, and dealing with it. It is the shortcut that allows me to rationalize my way into bypassing growth.

Jumping back, when she introduced me to ImportedDick (the term meaning, she brought a guy in from her home town to spend valentines day with her, maybe just a friend to keep her company, maybe an exboyfriend, who knows, doesn't matter dont care) I didn't feel any curiousity about his history with Doa (other than to label him as ID) I was pleased to see Doa, not scared or upset, and I didn't collapse into a pit of self pity and loathing of women because Doa would probably have some other dude in her bed for the night (sidenote: little twinge of jealousy as I wrote that. I'm workin' on it).

I met a number of cute girls at the party, nothing particularly noteworthy, and on a weird sidenote, I think my standards were raised somehow for what constitutes big boobs. Either that or these girls, who I usually see as having massive tits, were wearing outfits that hid them, which doesn't make sense because it was valentines day and their tits were hanging out. A few of these girls probably have DDs and I was thinking "eh, they're kinda big" hahahaha. One kinda strung out but very sexy redhead (super long hair, love that) was making out with this hippy guy on the dancefloor (good for him) and he teased her expertly, it was great to see. She was trying to kiss him, her head at this angle \ (facing right) with her mouth raised trying to get to his, and he was at the same angle \, facing left keeping his mouth just out of reach of hers but with his forehead pressed to hers. I could tell it was driving her insane in the best way, and then he finally relented. Nice fuckin' job hippyguy.

I left the party at one point, and who should I see outside but Doa, ImportedDick, Spain, and Emo, all leaving as well. Visions of that threesome swam through my mind. "Hey guys, what are you up to?"

Spain - "oh we're heading back to our dorm, are you coming with us?"

And for some reason which I understand and annoys the bejesus out of me (I had made the decision to go home and subconsciously I was sticking to it regardless, I do this a lot, another defense mechanism) I told her I was probably going to just head home.

They went home, I went home. I got there, decided it was valentines day and there were girls out there who wanted to meet me, and went back to the party. I probably walked like a mile and a half total. Got back to the party, flirted with Beej some more (hoping she would indeed throw herself at me) and then saw Shygirl (I think thats what I named her on here) and talked with her a bit before I left again. So no dice, but I was proud that instead of just collapsing onto the computer, I went back out into the mix again.

A reminder

While I'm still a little tipsy and annoyed. Remember.

1. Girls absolutely will chase. Or in the words of your leading post and philosophy, they will seek a leader or to be led. In fact, they fucking love men who put them in this position.

2. Girls are sluts. No matter what conception you may have of who they are, they are absolutely sexual and would probably get D P'd by two randoms if nobody would find out. Any girl. It makes no difference if she's Christian, Jewish, Muslim, was raped at some point, declines comment when you ask about if she's a virgin, whatever. ALWAYS assume the worst, and by worst I mean that she has been fucked, many many times, by many different guys, and is looking for more. That doesn't mean I'm judging by saying "worst" it means I'm just putting in a particular context, like "bad girl."

3. Girls talk about the guys they're into with their girl friends. If they're into a guy, their friends fucking know it. They don't keep some little secret crush hoping nobody finds out, they talk. They love talking about it.

4. You are responsible for making things happen. Twist it any way you like, tell yourself it isn't the right moment or that "you don't have anything to say to her and when it's right you will." This changes nothing. You still have to make it happen. If she's running up to you and hugging you, it's because she likes you. Don't pull some pusshy shit "I'm going to wait because I don't want to show too much interest."

5. Get it the fuck done.

6. Stop being a pussy. In everything you do, stop being a pussy.

7. A girl cannot love you if you do not first love yourself. If you doubt your self to a point where you doubt if she could be into you, even in the face of overwhelming empirical evidence, you are showing weak shit, pussy behavior, and you're ACTIVELY turning her off, even if you think it's ok because you haven't been around her much. Your very VIBE is disgusting when you think and behave this way.

8. Bottom line. Refer to #6, then refer to #5.

Yes, I'm pissed off and angsty, but it needed to be said.

Being a leader as opposed to being "the prize"

It's been a pretty consistent theme for me, and I wrote a post about it some months ago, about resolving the issue between being the prize and still making sex happen without having to leave it up to the girl to do everything. The chase vs. chased issue.

In my head there is a dichotomy. Girls have it engrained in their minds that there is a social order. They are passive and have to have everything happen to them. Guys ask them for their phone number (or even if they give their number to the guy, they are still putting him in that frame of pursuit), guys take them on dates, guys win them over, and they give guys sex. They are the prize in their minds, and in my mind, and I see the prize as something that doesn't do anything, and yet in order to be successful in dating, a man almost always has to do SOMETHING. So how can a man be the prize and still make it happen?

I haven't understood how to wrap my mind around this crucial concept so that it makes sense to me. How can I be the prize, be the one she is chasing, without doing any chasing of my own, when I'm not good enough or money enough yet to have her (most of the hers at least) lapping at my heels. If she doesn't ask for my number and I have to get hers, I am chasing. If I call her and ask her to come hang out, I am chasing. How does a guy who has so many options and doesn't give two shits about any one of them over another justify pursuing behavior? and once you start pursuing, how do you keep from over pursuing to the point where the dichotomy switches from her chasing you, back to you chasing her?

I was reading Brad P's planning the perfect date and I've come up with a way to frame it in my head that makes sense and I'll be thinking about for awhile to see what happens.

I must think of myself, not in the terms of the prize who has to be chased, or the one chasing the prize, or even the prize who has to chase a little bit so that the girl notices.

I must think of myself as a leader.

This is a huge shift from thinking of pursuing behaviors as exactly that. The idea of pursuis puts the image of one behind another, and pins by language the idea of leadership (command and control) in the hands of the one not doing the pursuing. One cannot be the prize and pursue, however one can be the prize and LEAD.

I like this image. I was reading over some of my old posts, and SassyFrass had this habit of texting me in a way that said she wanted to get fucked, but wasn't going to do anything about it. She was just tossing the idea into the air and seeing if the wind would catch it. So it's like this. She's walking around in a dark room, chatting up the air saying "man I'd sure like to get fucked" but she is either unable or unwilling to walk through the door above which hangs a sign "Come inside for sex." Now, the pure prize would stand in the middle and wait, to see if she can manage to blunder her way over to him and accidentally cause sex to happen. I'm too impatient for that by nature (which is something else I should talk about entirely and must work on), and don't have the abundance to make it happen. That same prize, in the same room with a hundred girls blundering around saying the same thing, will get laid pretty consistently.

What I've been doing, is acting the prize, but pursuing, which is essentially, blundering around in the dark room saying the same thing as the girl (sassyfrass in the example) "man i would also like to get fucked, if only some girl would grab my hand and lead me through the sex doorway" which works occasionally, but begs leadership from the girl. In real life terms, things like playing hard to get hoping she will pursue so hard that failure is impossible, texting her with vague statements hoping that she will suggest a meetup, hoping that she will escalate to remove the burden from me. Same room, hundreds of girls, only the really horny ones or generally lower quality ones are going to end up grasping the hand of this guy and leading him through the sex doorway.

Now, same situation, but this time a leader-prize comes in. The girl is blundering around in the dark, chatting up the air, not taking responsibility for her urges or desires. She's putting it out there, some more subtly than others. The leader has his night vision goggles on and can see the situation, he takes her by the hand and commands her to follow him, "but wait, I don't know, you don't have to come over" the prize-pursuer would try to mask his intentions, because he believes that if she doesn't give a massive sign, it is not on enough for him to "pursue." He is murky. The leader-prize silences her and continues to lead. He is not being stripper walked through the door. He is taking control of the situation. He recognizes that she is not stupid, and when she understands where she is going she will do something to get out of it if she is truly not interested. He's not thinking about rejection, he is unafraid to find out if she doesn't like him.

I may have gone a little out there with my metaphor and examples, some of it gets a little confusing, the biggest message to take from this whole deal is:

I no longer pursue. I lead.

Something important to keep in mind. Reframing behavior is often the first step toward trapward rationalization. I can't keep doing the same shit I've done and say "I'm leading!" I have to actually take the mindset of a leader.

My BigBear LR is a perfect example of leading vs. pursuing. I was the prize, but I didn't see my behaviors as pursuit because I wasn't even thinking about making anything happen until she was already at my house. I just led the interaction to a point where sex happened. I didn't game her and try and sit back and make her ask to come inside. I didn't try to push the envelope and make a move on her in the car where further logistics of getting inside would complicate things. I just lead it to a point where it would have been logistically infeasable to not have sex.

FR: First girl from the internet

Here is our e-mail conversation from start to finish...

=====Dasani122 WROTE:=====
awww, you posted all pictures of you not smiling! But you know what, you haven't fooled me. Deep down, under all your seriousness, theres a kid-at heart goober out to run around on the playground and get pushed down by the boy she likes best. Seriously, if you and I went out on the town, there would be trouble. I'm talking sidewalk chalk trouble =)

=====m**** WROTE:=====
It's true. In real life I'm always smiling, and I cause a lot of trouble.

=====Dasani122 WROTE:=====
OH yeah? So if you and me got together to devise a clever caper/heist, I could at least count on you to be my getaway driver? What are your other trouble talents?

=====m**** WROTE:=====
Getaway driver I am not...I never learned how to drive and my permit's been expired for about five months. I'm apparently pretty good at being bad at my job though, as I've found out this week!

=====Dasani122 WROTE:=====
That's rough. I was actually really good at my job, then my supervisor encouraged me to fake some things...didn't end well. That's ok though, I got my weekends back =)

So if you can't drive, how do you get out to do things

-Dasani

=====m**** WROTE:=====
I take the bus or I walk, but I don't get out much and it's not because I don't have a car, it's because I don't have a social life yet. YET!

=====Dasani122 WROTE:=====
Well I dig that you're honest about it, no reason to become a hermit though =)

Hey I like talking with you and I'd like to do it a little easier, shoot me your phone number and I'll give you a call. If we get along on the phone, maybe we'll hang out sometime.

What's your name, by the way.

-Dasani

=====m**** WROTE:=====
I'm xxx-xxx-xxxx. My name is Cupid.


Cupid (obvi)


*******************
We texted occasionally for a couple of days (I don't want to dig through my phone to find them all) and then she told me that she works with XML. I responded with something like "My knowledge of computer stuff got stunted by a bad teacher in highschool, so I take that to mean you build websites. You must enjoy takeout." Which looking back says "I know nothing about your profession and I might have just called you fat" So I got nervous when I didn't get a quick reply and said something else to inoculate it, "And I'm gunna go grab some right now, I'll give you a call tonight, when is a good time." Which got a nonresponse still.

I forgot about her for awhile, and then the last part of my 50th post happened. I agreed to call her about 7 and we'd meet up. Got a late start, Littleone was over, so I texted her and said I'd push back till 7:30 and called her a little after then. I didn't really know what to say so it was a quick, minute long logistical call, "hey whats up, blah blah thats cool, ok so heres the plan, have you been to the nickel arcade? Great, we're going, where do you live, be there in half an hour bye." She had a really cute voice so I was a little excited if also a touch nervous. First girl from the internet!

I drove out to her place and picked her up, gave her a hug upon meeting, and we got in the car. She is actually pretty funny, which surprised me because girls never make me laugh. I was a little too uncomfortable to really relax and enjoy myself though, pretty much all night. I had a good time, but I know it would have been better if I didn't care. She was a tad pudgier than I imagined, in her words, "I'm the only person who has moved to portland and gained weight, everybody here is a vegan" but she had great big tits and was cuter in person than in her pictures.

We went to the nickel arcade, which I'm totally going to make a staple of my dates because its a blast. The most expensive games cost 5 nickels, and they're games that cost like a dollar in a regular arcade. You can also win tickets and buy prizes and there's crane machines for getting stuffed animals (she won four tiny stuffed animal keychains for her and her coworkers, I got enough tickets to buy one of those slippery squishy water things). She had never really played games like that before, and she really got into it, and actually had me cracking up while we were playing this one shooting game. It wasn't a real good place for conversation though, next time I think I'll go out for a drink or coffee or a bite (there are restaurants, bars, and coffee shops all over that area right by the arcade) first, then if we have fun, bounce to the arcade to bask in the playful vibe of videogaming and prizes.

After we left (only spent $15, $2.50 each for an admission ticket and $5 each in nickels) we went for a walk in the area and just talked. It was ok. The zipper on my sweatshirt broke, which sucked, and it's so cold she had her hands in her pockets which makes it hard to try to hold them. Note to self, although it makes a convenient excuse to touch a little bit, walking on the outside of the road feels false every single time I do it on purpose. She told me she's been hooking up with her married coworker, that she is always the other woman, that she lost her virginity at 21 and 1/2 (she's 23). Some of it volunteered information (her hookups) but some of it prompted. I never felt a vibe or a connection with her, which is hard to do when I'm not fully comfortable. End of the night I drove her home and she lingered for a minute after the obligatory "I had a really good time tonight." I didn't feel a vibe so I didn't want to be cliche and got for a goodnight kiss, especially knowing she's banging a married dude and that we're both not looking for anything serious. It would just have been too couply. So I gave her a hug and said "that's all you get. I'll give you a call sometime, night."

I think I should have at least asked to use the bathroom in her place to see if she would ask me to stay longer or offer me a drink or something. Also, I think a Sinn line would have been appropriate at some point in the night, "I'm trying to get into your pants" to let her know where I wanted to take it, which definitely would have helped with the vibe. Remember, don't be afraid to find out she doesn't like you. I'd rather have a girl straight up tell me she doesn't like me than have me acting all murky looking for signs that may or may not be there.

I'll call her after finals, one thing that I liked about her is shes cognizant of things that attract and repulse her, and one thing she said she hates (which meshes with both my own experience and community philosophy) is having guys be "terminally available."

50th Post, Rather Ridiculous

I was out at my buddy's girlfriend's house last night, whose housemate happens to be TheActress. I endeavored to not make things weird, I had brought PuppyKins with me (who I realized later in the night, when I was standing next to her and playing with her hair and scratching behind her ears, that I don't have a compulsion to hook up with her, I really just want to be friends, even though I'm not opposed to her sexually at all) and I was just having a good time. Well TheActress was trying to get back into my pants, or rather into my heart, which just was not going to happen. She gets all close and is whispering in my ear and is letting me feel her up, and imagine this shit with me, this girl is so fucking weird.

We're talking dirty to eachother, I'm saying things that are well beyond my threshold for what I'm comfortable saying in bed to a girl, because I just didn't give a fuck, but picture all of this said in the most seductive voice possible...

"You know what I want to do to you?"

"What?" pressing hips into me

"I wanna take you downstairs and titty fuck your big fucking soft tits and cum all over your face and neck, would you like that?"

"mmmm" moaning in extacy "no" a breath that would only come after an intense orgasm

"You want me to fuck you? I'm gunna fuck you so hard like the naughty little slut you are"

"Uhhhnnn I'm not a slut," She tries to kiss me, breathing heavily "I wanna cuddle, mmmuhhhnn"

Breaking all pretense of talking dirty, "You have 2 choices...well more like 4. One, you can suck my cock, two we can have sex, three I can titty fuck you, or four I can shove you off and go back to my friends"

Trying to be indignant and sultry at the same fucking time god damn it, "Oh so you won't even consider dating me unless you've had sex with me?"

"Yep, thats right. You're a virgin aren't you."

"No...You're an asshole..." still trying to be seductive.

"Yeah I am, told you that. And I don't believe you, bye."

The rest of the night she was trying to touch on me and get in my cuddle pants. I said I MIGHT cuddle with her if we had sex. God she's so....ugngnugghguhg! TAKE A HINT! Her housemate came over and apologized to me for her behavior, I lol'd.

Left and went to another party. 45 seconds after I walked in, I was in the pantry closet hooking up with a girl who I had a one night stand with in the past, #1BJ (I wonder why I named her that???). I went inside, girls and friends were greeting me and hugging me, this girl was especially touchy and I immediately let her kinda fall against me into the kitchen, and she tries to kiss me. This girl was so god damn horny, I've never seen somebody trying to get laid so hard in my life. I tried to pull her to a corner, but realized I could only makeout and then saw the door to the pantry open. Pulled her in, couldn't get her to go down on me, I guess the prospect of kneeling on lenoleum wasn't very appealing. Turned her around and attempted to fuck her from behind but was unable to fit it in her. This blew my mind, I would never have guessed. After 10 or so minutes of hooking up we put our clothes on and went back outside. She never rehooked her bra strap and didn't realize it for like the next two hours. She keeps messing with her (massive) boobs trying to fix things and never even figured it out. Hilarious.

I was on the couch a bit later holding Puppykins head to my chest and playing with her hair. She can be so adorable. I had no interest in hooking up with her. I was fantasizing about falling asleep together and just stroking her head and tickling eachothers backs (my favorite thing in the world). This was really big for me because I always have this compulsion within myself to hook up with pretty much every girl I have the opportunity with. It's something I've been struggling against for quite some time and it makes it hard for me to find girls that I'm genuinely attracted to and interested in, because I confuse mild attraction and a compulsion to hook up with genuine interest a lot of times. This other girl from one of my lit classes was on the couch next to us. She's really pretty, like take home to mom pretty, so I'll call her MomPretty, and I say to her "MomPretty I want to play with your hair too"
"But mine is in a pony tail!"
"take it out and come here"

She does and leans back into my arm and lets me stroke her hair. Somebody starts taking pictures, I look like a pimp. Puppykins is already oriented toward me with her knee over mine somewhat, so I tell MomPretty to do the same thing. She does. (And here is a distinction in calibration, one of my housemates likes to say "do this, do that" and give orders and take things without asking, which in the community would be considered alpha. But its annoying as fuck and inconsiderate. However, I tell this girl to put her head on me, to change posititions, take the tie out of her hair, and it isn't annoying and I'm gaining positive compliance. Something good to remember.)

After a little while Puppykins goes home and me and MomPretty keep cuddling. We have a goofy fight over the remote, we move around the house a bit and talk with people, and comeback to cuddle a few more times (see TheActress? I cuddle. Just not with stupid girls who are afraid of their vaginas.). Finally we are left all alone, she suggests we join the rest of the group who are in the basement playing pool. Its 5 am by this point, I tell her I'm tired and ask if she wants to walk me home. She does. We go to my house, don't say a word about anything but nonsense really, I walk in, she follows, we go straight up to my room, sit on my bed, I close the door, talk a little, start to makeout, but I sense a lot of hesitation.

Another note to self. I've gotten this kind of resistance before and I don't know what to do about it. Usually, and this time was no exception, I say something to the effect of, "Hey it's cool, we don't have to do this, you don't have to be here if you don't want to" They always say that its not that they dont want to, its something else, but then leave (no exception here) so what gives? Probably triggered her anti slut defense, but what can I say to innoculate? Maybe go AFC Adam and say something like, "look I'm a gentleman so you and I are not hooking up, but I do want to cuddle and talk" then move from there. Yeah that sounds good.

She leaves, I go to sleep. Madeout with two different girls, hooked up with one of them, even BigBear gave me a drunk dial. Ridiculous night.

Oh, p.s. forgot to mention. This girl that I met on OkCupid and I are supposed to meet up tonight. We texted a bunch a couple weeks ago, and she went non responsive and I forgot about her. Before taking a nap last night, I sent her a text "hey whats up" just to see if she was still going to be non responsive. My phone rang a bunch of times while I was sleeping but I ignored it. Checked my texts and calls: my mom, my buddy, and OkCupid girl...

"any interst in seeing mirah w me tonight at the aladdin? i have an extra ticket. freeee!"
and another one 25 minutes later...

"okay i have to take back the mirah invite my coworker came thru. are youu free anytime this weekend? ill buy you a whole venue to make up for it"

This seemed really weird to me. Maybe she was shit testing me before, I dont usually think about shit tests over text, so maybe I should, that could help my text game a bit. I guess the universe was just in Dasani Alignment last night. We texted a little and have plans to meet up tonight around 7. Wtf am I going to do with her? I don't know, maybe go get a drink, fuck if I know hahaha.