Relationships Are Scary
In the club, I’m an expert at men. I know how to talk to them, how to make them laugh, how to turn them on.
The same does not apply to real life.
In real life, I’m shy and nervous around guys. Especially around ones I may like. Vulnerability is frightening. When I’m Dixie no one can hurt me. But in my personal life, when the walls are down, I’m awkward.
I have no idea how to have a relationship. I don’t understand how to play the games. Do I text him or do I not text him? Do I make the next move or does he? This dating crap is so confusing. How do people do it?
In conversation, I lob “I don’t want a relationship” as fast as Federer’s serve. It’s a lie. It’s my defense. I play the tough girl. I do want to love again. I want to share my life with someone. I’m just afraid of going back there again. To be the one left alone looking like the sucker. I’m afraid.
Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
One of my best friend’s just ended a five year relationship. It was one of the hardest decisions and one of the best decisions she has had to make.
“I’m afraid of starting over.” She sighed to me.
I’m proud of her. For respecting herself enough to say “I need more. I deserve more.”
The truth is, everyone is afraid of starting over. Of having to make new. To go forward in a life that you don’t really know to be wholly yours. But breaking up is a time to renew, not only our lives, but our friendships. Focus on the things that matter most to you.
It is hard. I know it because I’ve been in the same place as she is now. You ask yourself, “How could I have spent all this time together, growing together, building a life together to walk away from it as strangers?” You feel like you’ve wasted time. But the truth is, it isn’t a waste of time because the time you spent growing with someone else, you’ve got to learn about yourself. What you want for your future and what you don’t want.
You feel like you’ve lost your best friend and now a bunch of crappy material things are closer to him than you. It’s fucking bizarre. Old magazines, a coffee mug, the blanket you used to snuggle under, the things you left behind will get to spend more time with him than you will ever again. It’s strange that a relationship can dissolve so quickly. But they do.
You might feel like a failure. You might be scared to death. Will anyone love me enough as he did? Will anyone treat me as sweet? Make me laugh as much? Know to bring me ice cream when I’m sad? You torture yourself with these questions because you’re scared. But the truth is, the next person you meet could be totally different. He may not bring you ice cream when you’re sad, but he’ll do something totally amazing and different. He’ll take you out of your comfort zone make you experience new.
When you’re in it you think you’ll never be able to forget. You think that you’ll feel this emptiness, this want for old for the rest of your life. But eventually you’ll leave it behind and you’ll forget. You’ll find someone new who will know your life story. One day, you’ll talk about these hard heavy moments as if they don’t matter at all.
Just take it one day at a time.
What I Listen To
It’s pretty evident that I love music. A friend of mine recommended last.fm to me.
I finally sat down and figured it out this morning. It’s pretty cool.
Here’s my last.fm page so you can listen to what I listen to.
10 Worst Sexy Halloween Costumes
Halloween was always my favorite holiday as a kid for two reasons. 1) I love candy and 2) I love dressing up.
It seems as if this holiday has become increasingly more and more about sex. As for many, it may be their only opportunity to get laid all year. For many girls, it’s their opportunity to act like total sluts and get away with it. “Uh, no that wasn’t me. That was Princess Peach sucking on Mario’s dick”.
If you put “sexy” in front of any character you have instant Halloween costume.
Here’s a list of the 10 worst sexy Halloween costumes from Washington City Paper.
One Simple Answer
At Café Ole I sit and write for hours. Lost between cups of coffee and “Oh, I love this song” moments from Pandora. People always passing through. Strangers finding a common ground in a coffee shop.
On the wall, posters and ads make a colorful clutter. People tearing off wedges of paper as answers to their problems. They find what they are looking for. I wonder if perhaps, whatever it is I am looking for is just as easy as that. As easy as a tattered piece of paper. A number to dial. One simple answer.
I think for so long I have lived a life of chaos. Quick; cheaply made moments of nothingness. A life without meaning. Moments lived in vain. For what? For whom?
Despite all that I have done, I am alone.
As a writer, real life is never enough. It’s in the telling and retelling of it that satisfies. Learning from my narratives. Somehow waiting for when my life will start. The sad unfortunate truth, is that my life has begun and it is quickly passing me by.
Now, I sadly sift through blurred memories of a time when I didn’t give a shit. Clicking through old blog posts. Remembering the good life. Skipping through life without a care. I remember never caring about anything, mainly because now, today, I do.
Perhaps now, with a life of chaos behind me I will be able to find what it is I am looking for.
Even if it hurts.
Freaktastical.
I decided to try my hand at dating again.
So I made a date with a boy. Cute. I guess. Witty. Uhmm…
Overall, this guy did nothing for me, but I thought “Hey Dixie, get the fuck out of the house and make an effort!”
So I did. Idiot.
Our first date was at El Vez. (Yawn). So played out. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the joint, but a first date? Impress the lass.
By the middle of appetizers I clearly got the impression he was the one who had been googling my e-mail address all day (thank you site meters) and leading him to my blog. Fine. I’m not ashamed of this little rag, but be honest about it.
“There’s something you’re not telling me. I know it. So tell me already.”
I choked down a nacho.
“Um? What? These nachos are…good.”
“Oh no. THERE IS SOMETHING YOU NEED TO TELL ME.”
I started to get a little frightened.
“Ummmm okay? I’m a stripper and I have a blog. Could…You…relax now?”
He started to irritate me. I mean really fucking annoy me. He kept calling me “Miss Fancy Pants”. I should have gone with my gut instinct and punched him and walked out. But I didn’t. I was polite. I stayed until the end of dinner. I left politely. I even hugged him. (The horror!)
The next day he texted me all day.
What are you doing?
Working.
What kind of work are you doing? You’re stripping right this second?
Uh. No. I’m writing.
For what? Like what? Send me samples? Now. Send me samples of your work.
You can just read my blog.
No. I want to see stuff you’ve published. Send me stuff now. I’ve been googling you all morning and I haven’t found anything.
(He wouldn’t leave me alone so I caved and e-mailed him some shit so he’d back off).
He texted me again.
HEY!
I’m pretty busy right now.
How can you be so busy? What exactly is it that you’re doing?
Well, now I’m going to lunch with my friends.
Wow. You seem to always be so busy and always going out for lunches and dinners. Ah, to live the life of a pretty girl.
Um. Ok. I can’t talk now.
You seem like you’re blowing me off. Like I am putting 70% into this relationship and you are only putting in 30%.
(Yes, he actually used the word “relationship”).
Listen, I’m busy. Could we talk tomorrow maybe?
OK BYE!
Hey. It’s Me again. When can we go out again?
You want to go out again? Really? Ok. Fine. Well, we can go out to the cell phone store so I can get myself a new fucking phone number so you’ll stop FUCKING texting me ALL day long. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?
And after that, I never heard from him again.
FREAK.
