HeyDooder

GayDood
2003-02-25 14:26:48 (UTC)

Anger Management

I think I finally understand why sometimes, when you see a
really good-looking guy on the street and smile at him, he
gives you attitude...

THAT'S WHERE I AM RIGHT NOW!!!

I KNOW what's going on in their heads! They are
thinking, "Yeah kid. You're smiling now but in two weeks
you'll be breaking my heart because that's just the way it
is."
...or maybe they're thinking, "Don't smile at me like
that! I'm good enough to fuck, but not to date, right?"

...or maybe they're thinking, "I'm just too damn sexy for
the likes of you!" (to which I wouldn't relate).

I SWEAR, Jay was right! Catholic priests really DO get
more action than I do! I have no luck, and I get myself
into these circumstances all by myself...AAARGH!

...

...if you want to know what I'm bitching about, it's this:
I talked with Heather yesterday. She had some dire news
for me. Dwayne has picked himself up a couple of chicks
and is in the pre-dating stages and messing around with
them both. Aside from my chances (however slight they
were) being shattered, now I have to think of that body
being molested by...women! Yuck!

For a while after the initial shock, Heather helped me to
bitch about all of Dwayne's shortcomings...good therapy!
He's too short...it turns out he's 5'8. A veritable midget
by my standards. He has terrible posture. His hair is too
thin, and he'll be bald by 30. He smokes, and that means
he tastes like nasty niccotine.
Now do I want a guy like that?!
...HELLS NO!!!

...and the more I keep telling myself this, the easier this
crap is gonna get!

And then, adding insult to injury with the best of intentions, Jeana
(a.k.a. my lovely and wonderful V-day date) tells me of a friend of
hers who thinks he would be interested in me...and this is about five
minutes after I hear of Dwayne's chicks. But the friend, Jenaa tells
me, isn't looking to date anyone. He just wants friends right
now...HA!

"Friends"...

I KNOW what "friends" means. "Friends" means that I'm good enough to
fuck but not to date. I've been there before, one too many times.
Sorry to this 'friend' but I think I'll pass. This isn't what I want
out of life right now.

Jeana meant it ALL with the best of intentions...she REALLY did and I
love her for it. But it ended up twisting the dagger of
heartachedeeper into my soul. Ecch!

After work last night, leaving and my thoughts dwelling on
Dwayne, I went to my sister's house to babysit, or rather
to nephew-sit.

I indulged myself in mindless fun with my nephews, playing
Lord of the Rings Risk with one, Domino Rally with the
other, and then the three of us ran all over the house
playing Hide-N-Seek.
I really wasn't in the mood to go kidsit for them, but once
I arrived at the house, and I got out of the car I looked
to the windows.
There they were, both of my boys, with beaming smiles
waving furiously at me. Suddenly, Dwayne just ceased to
exist...that whole mess hardly mattered, because the two
most important boys in the world were happy to see me.

So, I went in, hugged them for minutes as they told me all
about their day, and the new levels they've achieved on
their Playstation games, and I listened with exaggerated
interest.
After I put them to bed and read a few stories to them, I
sat and talked with my sister for a while, drinking coffee
and plotting her Tricky Tray meeting...such a PTA mom.

And then, I left for home. I start driving, Dwayne seeping
back into my thoughts like some bad addiction I'm trying to
ignore, and I turn on the radio...

"Hey now, hey now...don't dream it's over..."

How perfect, and the melodrama of that saddening pit in my
stomach returned, my forehead tensed as it does when I
don't want to deal with my current mood, and I drove.

When I reached home, I had achieved the "Frustrated
Stage". I changed into a t-shirt and boxers, went into the
basement, and did a bit of kickboxing with a poor innocent
garbage can (plastic and full of old clothes) as my
unwilling target.
After that, I did about 30 minutes of crunches on the Ab
Roller and a bit of weight lifting, then I took half of a
chocolate Entenmann's cake, five chocolate doughnuts, a
container of potato salad, and a big plastic cup of
strawberry milk up to bed, and fell asleep
watching "Muriel's Wedding".

This morning, I got up, worked out again with the hand
weights and Ab Roller, and currently my abs are still on
fire. And I want them to be on fire...
...I want my abs to burn until I have a six pack that's so
damn hard you'd get bruised if you punch it, but most of
all...I wouldn't let Dwayne lay a hand on my abs. HA!

I've needed motivation for a while to get myself working
out again. If this is it, than so be it.

...and don't feel bad. I want no pity. Why should I
settle for a half-frozen fish on a market stand when there
are plenty who also don't want me in the sea?




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