:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

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:: Tuesday, June 19, 2007 ::

:: Moving On ::
EDIT: In this post, I'll be doing a lot of thinking out loud and clearing my head, and disclose some recent personal struggles. I'll be venting many things that I've internalized for a while, things I feel ashamed revealing. I originally wrote this over a month ago, posted it, deleted it, rewrote it, deleted it again, and here it is again, since a lot of my neurosis comes out here and I might come off as a little sad or pity-seeking, even though that's not my intention. This is the most open I've been on my blog in a while so I may or may not remove this post later. If you read it, respond however you'd like. Or don't, your choice. I'm putting it out here for a reason.

I haven't written about my dating life since the breakup since there hasn't been much going on. I've met a few women here and there but nothing ever developed. I've been in a funk and it feels like at times that I don't have a clue how to break out of it. I don't miss the ex, I don't want her back, and looking back, I feel happier, not just being single, but the hindsight realization that she just wasn't good for me.

But the main point is that as much as I hate admitting this to myself, my self-confidence, when it comes to women and dating, took a major hit afterwards. Why? If your ex decides that you're such a liability that she'd rather shack up with a borderline alcoholic, melodramatic, pothead one week after she leaves, that can sting.

(I know I once wrote that I try not to disparage people on my blog because it's a chicken shit thing to do, and that's what I'm trying to avoid doing here. And not doing a very good job at it. She's not a horrible person and she had her reasons - however bullshit I think they may have been; I'm just trying to paint things from my perspective. But if it comes off that way, well, whatever.)

Since then I've been reluctant to put myself back out there. One reason I already stated, my confidence has taken a hit. If I a woman shows what could be a sign of interest (it would have to be fairly obvious for me to pick up on it) I'm afraid to act on it. The other reason is that I feel like I've completely forgotten how to talk to women. I'm either too reserved or I come off as too eager. I was never that great with women to begin with but this slump I'm in just feels worse.

And different. Before, it was a smiple case of post-breakup blues. This time? I seem to be experiencing some sort of deeper, personal crisis. And everything revolves around my lack of competence as man, being a man, around women.

For this, I have no one to blame but myself. Like always, I have this need to be strong and tell everyone "I'm fine." Or, "don't worry about me." I may even convinced myself that was the case. I haven't gone on any drunken benders, done hard drugs, or anything like that. But I started going out all the time and then reverted to not going out at all. I make excuses about my state, including the ever popular "I'm better/happier as a single guy anyway." Or if asked when I'm going to put myself out there, I fall back on "I need to focus on other things, like getting my advertising career on track." (True on some level, but come on. It's not a huge hurdle.)

Well, I'm still a single waiter, and all I have is excuses. If you lack a healthy self-esteem while living in South Beach, you might delude yourself into thinking that you're not rich/tall/toned/muscular enough, and I've let myself fall into that trap. These things, don't - shouldn't - matter. Not to her. And if it does, I'm better off without her anyway, right? And it shouldn't matter to me either, but I'm letting these myths affect me to where it's becoming noticeable. Not that anyone but my closest friends could tell by looking at me. (Again, I'm good at hiding my negativity. Partly because I'm intensely private, and partly because I don't like being a downer among other people. I've never liked people of the "if I'm not happy, no one else better be" mentality and I don't want to be one of those.)

What kills me is that I still know - somewhere in the back of my mind - that I have many virtues that women would consider desirable. But what most women want, need even, is a man who is confident. Someone who knows that he's a good catch and can convey this to those he meeets. Women are supposed to be far better at judging the confidence level of the opposite sex, and a woman who just met this type of guy would be able to tell that he's a great, fun guy and his looks or bankroll would be irrelevant. And as it is now, I'm not that guy. And to be completely honest, I haven't been that guy in a long time. I'm not sure why then, and I'm not sure why now. I could easily blame the ex and the breakup and it might fly a month after but seven months later? The only source of blame is whatever is going on inside my head.

When it comes to women, I have a self-esteem problem. There, I said it. But now what? How do I fix this? Let's get a little deeper; how did I get here? How did I let myself get to this point? What's the source of this self-doubt?

How is it that I, the guy who moved his life seamlessly and without apprehension, from one coast to another, can't summon the testicular fortitude to start a conversation with that cute brunette sitting at the table next to me that keeps looking over at my direction?

How is it that I can pride myself for my dry, witty, humor but can't think of anything funny to say when an attractive Latin girl at the grocery store asks my opinion on which steaks are the best, while suggesting that she really, really likes meat?

I have the friendship and loyalty of a few of the best people you’ll ever meet because they, and I, know that my friendship means something. And yet when a hot little redhead smiles at me, my first thought is "what could she possibly want with a guy like me?"

These are issues I need to figure out. And I don't have a God damn clue where to start.

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:39 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Saturday, June 16, 2007 ::
:: Great Service ::
One sign I might go to starbucks a little too much: I just walked in, grabbed my table, put my laptop down, after which I walk up to the counter. And right there is my drink (venti iced green tea, unsweeetened) waiting for me. I didn't have the heart to tell the poor guy that I wanted a hot green tea this time. Oh well.

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 8:11 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Wednesday, June 13, 2007 ::
:: Server Stories: Fishing ::
It was a slow lunch shift and I'm behind the bar chatting with Chuck about our usual stuff (boobs, trucks). The day game is over and I'm flipping channels and stop on a bass fishing competition. Our manager walks in, says hi, looks up and asks, "why are you watching this?!"

"We were talking about fishing earlier and this came on."

"What if a customer walks in right now?"

"What's the big deal?"

"Guys, we're a fish restaurant."

And?

Chuck and I thought it was hilarious afterwards but I guess the manager did have a point. Or does he? (He even conceded later that it was a little humorous.) You guys tell me, if you walked into a seafood restaurant and saw a fishing show on their TVs, would that in any way turn you off to eating there?

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:10 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Sunday, June 03, 2007 ::
:: Server Stories: Drugs ::
One thing about waiters and bartender is that most of us either drink, do drugs, do hard drugs, or some combination of the above. I have the drinking part down (mostly in the sense that I like the taste of what I drink, and I haven't been drunk in... it's been at least a few hours) but I don't do drugs of any sort. I've tried marijuana three times (I only got high once and really, that was enough), cocaine once (no affect whatsoever. absolutely nothing. I was actually a little disappointed), and mushrooms (it turned out to be a sautéed portabella, and it was quite yummy. Sneaky bitch.)

Anyway, there's a bartender I work with that's a great guy, hard worker, and a gigantic pothead. (In the service industry, those qualities are not mutually exclusive) Or was anyway. Thanks to a domestic dispute call from the cops, (don't ask. Just, don't.) he got caught with "hemp paraphernalia" and isn't allowed to smoke any more, thanks to random drug tests enforced by this parol officer.

So I go to work last night and Koby walks up to me, holds up an empty aspirin bottle and says, "hey Dan-E, oh man, I totally wish you were at work yesterday."

"Huh? Why?" (I'm poring over next week's schedule, silently cursing the manager for making me work lunch with our Resident Drama Queen.)

"Well, you know how I'm not supposed to smoke any more?"

"Yeah?"

"And I still do anyway?"

"Yeah."

"Yesterday, I got called into taking a drug test and I FREAKED OUT dude. And I figured the only way I was gonna pass this test is if I get some pee from you and put your sample in the cup."

And he said that so fast that I was like, "huh? what?"

"Because you're literally the only person I know that doesn't do any drugs and I knew you'd be totally clean."

"Really. The only."

"I mean, my girlfriend's mom would be clean too but I can't ask her"

Good point.

And thinking back on it, I don't know what's weirder: the fact that I have a friend that considers me close enough of a friend that he'd ask me for my urine sample, or that if he had asked me, my reply would have been, "yeah sure. Do you mind waiting ten minutes while I drink some coffee?" And without a second thought.

I've had friends ask me for favors before but you don't get requests like that very often.

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:20 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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