Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Pickles, panic and pretty ponies, oh my!

Song: “Green Acres”

Dear Uff Da: What's a boy to do?

I'm starting to think my move to another, smaller city was a wrong decision. Very wrong. Don't get me wrong, the city I moved to isn't so bad, but I'm starting to see just how conservative and Bible-thumping these folks are.

I mean, there are places and times that I feel I have to be "hush-hush" when I say bad things about our president for fear of major retribution.

I'm starting to think I should just work, put off school another semester and move back to the town I lived in before I moved here when my lease is up on my apartment.

Can you pass along some Norwegian advice to a confused boy?

Dear Confused: Well, you’re in a right ol’ pickled herring, now ain’tcha?

This is a tough one, but I’m going to dive right in and remind you of the old adage that’s generally nothing more’n a big pile of stinky horse shit: The grass is always greener on the other side of the prairie.

It’s stock-taking time, and we’re not talking the kind that gets corporate CEOs hard.

You’re not happy where you’re at, true, but you’ve also just moved there, and now your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to answer some questions about where you are, where you’re going, and whether that cowboy who just drove by likes boys.

And that last part, my friend, is a major part of the equation: men who like to get nekkid with other men, and the other elements that go with that way of thinking. You know, values like being open-minded, free-thinking and fashionable.

Now, I know that these sorts of things were absolutely oozing out of the pavement where you were before, but why did you leave there? What do you like about where you’re at now? Is there anything you can do to make it better?

Like the last poster, I’m going to give you the same exercise: sit down and meditate on your future where you’re at. Really think about it, put yourself in your shoes this time next year. What’s your life like, who’s in it, what are you doing, who are you doing it with? (And no, Brad Pitt is not an acceptable answer!)

Now, do the same with your old place, in your old life. Now, listen to yourself. I mean really listen. No matter what the answer may be. And, before you make any decisions, give it a year, if you can. If you can’t imagine that, give it until the end of this year, after the holidays.

Better yet, give it a semester of school. School changes everything. Give it a go. I did a semester at UNC once, and that was enough to send me hightailing it back across the Mason-Dixon line for good! Give it a semester.

And, in the meantime, try to live in the moment, where you’re at, with the understanding that it may just be temporary, so how bad can it really be for just a little while?

Song: Avril Lavigne, “My Happy Ending”

Dear Uff Da:
I’m not sure if I should be worried. About myself. A short while ago a relationship I was in imploded. Well, okay, I blew it up, but my hands were tied, I didn’t have a choice, I had to get out or get wrecked. The ex was someone I’ve been completely and totally ape shit in love with since about 10 minutes after we met, and it was like a movie that we actually, finally hooked up. I was happier than I’ve ever been in my whole entire life … unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Seems I was used to get the ex back, the jealousy routine, which totally worked, and the ex flipped, and I was left with “can’t we just be friends.”

So I walked away, the smartest and right thing to do, no doubt. Problem is, it’s killing me. I’m so miserable, more miserable than I’ve ever been in my life, and go between anger and sorrow and hatred and depression and back again. I can’t eat, I don’t want to go out or do anything, I don’t give a shit about a damned thing. I feel dead. What do I do?

Dear Dead:
That sucks. Unfortunately, that’s also life, and the thing we call love. Okay, no, wait. That’s a lie. That not what we call love, that’s called emotional fuckwittage, and the first and foremost thing you need to remember is there are countless people wandering this earth, upright even, who feel that it’s okay to do this, as long as it ends with the “friends” caveat.

Don’t buy into it. Whether or not you were used, or wronged, or just plain hurt, your feelings are what matter to you, and once someone plays their card, as your ex has, the only thing you can do is make things right inside yourself, and move on.

(Of course, I also took out the part about you wanting to take a lead pipe to said ex’s kneecaps. That’s understandable, but, as I’ve said before, violence is not the answer. If only, right? But, it’s not.)

We can’t keep people from using us for their own cavernous emotional needs, but we can decide how to react in the future. As I see it, you’ve got a few routes you can take: you can remain shut down, and waste away like some dramatic Victorian tale, or you can take the time you need for yourself, get strong, feel better, and realize that you actually would have dumped the fuckwit in the end.

Yes, you heard me right.

Someone willing to use others for his or her own emotional games is not worth the time, and you, being smart and feeling enough to be this hurt by all this, would have eventually gotten up and walked away. You weren’t the happiest you’ve ever been, it just feels that way. Honestly.

Now, I know you don’t feel that now, but I want you to sit down and meditate on this, imagine your future had this not happened, and see where it ends. Everything happens for a reason, and I’m willing to bet the emotional fuckwittage is simply a mere fraction of the faults of this particular bad one.

In the meantime, take as much time and pampering for yourself as you can afford, reconnect with your friends, remind yourself every day of how awesome you are, no matter how little you may feel it right now, and little by little you’ll get there. And, if it makes you feel better, take some karate classes – it’s always good for getting out the aggression!


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