A good post after 2am?

Here's a new one. It's after 2am, and I'm actually writing because I've calmed down.

Tonight!

I know!

I mean, sure, we've all seen me go to sleep and wake up embarrassed and calmer, but to do so in the same night? I'm pretty sure that is unprecedented.

Anyway, I've decided that I was too quick to jump to conclusions earlier. Maybe the entire world isn't out to get me. Perhaps comparing myself to the Wandering Jew was stretching the problem. The fact that I haven't had anything even remotely resembling a real relationship this close to 30 is a little frightening, but the fact of the matter is that an enormous lack of self-confidence is a thing I will probably always battle. A need to please everyone in the room will be the albatross around my neck for quite some time to come.

Perhaps women are idiots. Perhaps men are too. Regardless, the fact of the matter is that I haven't ever actually played the game. Oh, I've come close once or twice, but I always pull back before the game ends.

I used to say that I was a great wingman, because I had preternatural skill in convincing women to come talk to me and my gang. I also said I was a great wingman, because the skill ended at this point.

Maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe the skill didn't end there. Maybe the problem was that I just didn't stick with it. I see guys stick by the side of a woman all night that they barely know, and I think, "What a tool." Thing is, maybe that tool knows a thing or two that I don't.

Maybe to get where we're trying to go in life each of us has to accept the fact that we can't always be the life of the party. Maybe, we need to grow a pair, make a choice, and stick with it.

Enough of this bullshit

I'm back. And I'm fucking pissed.

Look, I'm sorry. I've spent 14 years blaming my problems on myself. What am I doing wrong? Why isn't it working? How is it that all my friends have had serious relationships/have gotten married/have had ridiculous amounts of sex, when I - poor little old me - appear to be the unpopular kid that all the other unpopular kids avoid in embarrassment.

At this point, that is just bullshit. You know what's wrong with me? Me fucking neither. I am a great guy. I've spent year and years and years being a great guy. I'm thoughtful, funny, contemplative, interesting, broad, and broadminded. I speak two language, have been to half a dozen countries, care about politics, and meet people easily. I can swim a mile easily. I have good genes. I'm gifted. I've written a book. I'm fluent in the language of technology and enjoy every brand of humor from low brow to high culture.

I have no trouble operating at a level that is skin deep, but am equally at home delving deeply into the issues. People trust me enough to tell me their hopes and fears, and I never break the sacred bond by blabbing those hopes and dreams to others.

I graduated college in four years. I have a masters degree in applied psychology. I'm one year away from being a lawyer. Fuck, I've even won the John fucking Philips Sousa award. I know how to play chords on a piano and am at least decent in the karaoke scene. I can match a shoe with a belt. People have conversations about what a great guy I am behind my back.

When I have money I am generous with it. If I don't have money, I'm willing to donate time.

I write enjoyable and interesting prose. If I author a mailing list, people who are no longer members of the list sometimes choose not to unsubscribe, simply because they enjoy reading what I've written.

I am, not to put to fine a line on the concept, fucking awesome.

You want to know why I don't get dates? You know why I've spent my entire life (save a very limited number of days) alone? It's because women are idiots.

That's it. Idiots. Dummschwaetzerin. Vollidioten. The freaking bane of my existence.

Someone out there might try to rationalize the idiot gene going on in the so-called fairer sex, but I assure you, anyone who would pick the skinny guy who looks serious and works in a bar/coffee shop over me needs to have her head examined. It's crap. It's a joke.

So what the fuck do I do about it? Fucking nothing. There's nothing to do. Give up. Given in. Accept the fact that, no matter how hard you try, you are doomed to walk the world, unknown and unloved until the seas boil and the four horsemen charge forth from the rumbling sky.

Of course, if I did that, there would be no satisfaction. Why should I spend my life being all depressed? Sure, for whatever inexplicable reason I will never have the ability to seduce women and then leave them heartbroken and alone. But that doesn't mean I have to be polite about it. I think it's time to start being the world's biggest prick.

Fuck yes.