Saboteurs, Hippies and Cartoon Eyes

I love holiday weeks, it’s already Wednesday!!

My new tattoo is itching like CRAZY today!! It looks great though! I’m sooooooo pleased with it!

Yesterday, a couple of things stuck out to me:

1.                  A statement from SL “You really shouldn’t be surprised that you’re single”

2.                  Horoscope:  “Is your lack of love your fault?”

Wow Universe, are you trying to make a point?

I’ve thought long and semi-hard about it over the last 22 hours or so.  And maybe, just maybe, there is a point to be made.

I don’t usually put much stock in horoscopes, except to hope that they are right from time to time.  I mean, would I really want to know my future if it were possible?

I could see myself being unreasonably giddy if I knew something good was about to happen.  That would be disturbing, as giddiness is not one of my usual traits.  Actually, this could be dangerous on different levels.  I could be involuntarily committed! And a psych ward is not some place that I’m cut out to be in, despite my obvious personality defects.  I have a funny psych story I’ll share someday, when we know each other better.

On the other side of the coin, I can see myself being very despondent if I knew something bad were about to happen.

My emotions would be all over the place, that couldn’t be healthy.  I suppose, it is better not to know your future, to wish and hope and dread.

Now, to address SL’s comment.  Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, but it sure as fuck doesn’t mean that I have to like it.  He is one of my very best friends in the entire world, and he knows almost everything about me.  It is a wonderful friendship, we can share and give opinions and it’s all safe.

SL feels that I am my own saboteur.  That I don’t give relationships enough time, end them for frivolous reasons, etcetera. 

But, like I’ve said before, time is a precious commodity; I don’t have time to waste! 

If I feel like something isn’t right, I don’t try to make it into something that it’s not, I just bow out.  I have a serious aversion to drama, if anything seems hinky; I am running for the hills.  This may or may not be the best way to deal with relationships, what the fuck do I know?  Obviously, from my unchanging relationship status, NOTHING.

One could postulate that TrippyBeth is a little slow.

So, for the entertainment portion of today’s post, I’ll tell you another dating story.  I call this one “My Date With the Socialist”.

I’ll preface this story by telling you that I am not particularly political.  I just changed my address and my voter registration; I am now a registered Libertarian.  Honestly, I have trouble relating to any party in it’s entirety.  I do, however, believe in freedom and having government get the fuck out of our personal lives.  The older I get, the more liberal I get.  I like to say that I’m fiscally conservative, but socially liberal.

Back to the date story.

I had known this fella, MO, for quite a while.  We were Facebook friends, he is a writer and we talked about writing a lot. 

Last year, MO, participated in the Occupy Wallstreet party.  I monitored the situation on Facebook, from the safety of my bedroom.  I knew I didn’t understand everything that they were standing for, and I wanted to.

When MO returned from New York, he invited me to dinner.  I accepted.

We met at Cock-N-Balls (Cock-N-Bull for most).  The dinner started out casually, we talked about writing, he asked if I had finished reading his book, and I confessed that I had not.  He looked a little disappointed, but carried on.  He filled me in on the goings-on from Zuccotti Park.  I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he, and others, were able to leave their jobs and go there for weeks and weeks.  I know that some of them didn’t have jobs, so that wasn’t an issue, but if you did… what the fuck?

Then I was schooled on the “stand for something” thing.  I just politely shook my head.

After which I was indoctrinated in the “bigger government is better” ideology.  I couldn’t sit by and be a complacent little girl while he spouted off about if someone needed anything they could go to the government and the government would give them what they needed, food, jobs, you name it.  This is a fucked up ideology.

So I said “You want more government? More jackasses in Washington screwing things up? I can’t get behind that.”

He was visibly annoyed with me.  “I just don’t think that you’re educated on the facts, you already admitted that you don’t read.”

I was stunned!  The fact that I didn’t read his book, made me a non-reader? What in the actual fuck?  I had already decided that I was never going to see him again, so I didn’t even bother to argue.  What was the point? He was obviously delusional.

As we waited for the check, he looked at me thoughtfully and said “I love your eyes; you look like a really cute cartoon character.”

WHAT?  No one had ever compared me to a cartoon character before, at least not to my face.  I believe that he meant it as a compliment, but …….. What girl wants to be called a cartoon character??

Mercifully, the check arrived, he insisted on paying, and we walked out into the rain.  I thanked him for dinner and he asked if he could walk me to my car.  I agreed.

When we arrived at the car, he took me by both hands and said “I know that we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but I still think we could be together.”

More evidence of a psychosis.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that every hippy, socialist is mentally deranged.  We all have opinions, and the beauty of being an American is that we can express them.  But this dude…… definitely deranged.

When recanting the story to friends, everyone asks “What character?”

I don’t know, he didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask.

So I am including some of the guesses, form your own opinion.

I have forgotten this character's name.

Rocky

Sandy Cheeks

Betty Boop