I went back to bloggin a little at my old site. . . because bloggin about being alone starts to suck after a while. Ha. I thought I found a niche there, but...back to being a generalist I go...

Whatchu Lookin At?

Before I flush these loser thoughts out of my head with a rigorous meditation, I'd like to consider the following for just a little while longer: What the hell was She staring at so hard? ...sitting three seats down the conference table from me...with other blabbering blabber heads at both ends of the table droning and driving everybody into their own happy places or sad places or wherever...maybe a few of us were actually paying attention to what was being said. I was, actually. I was paying attention...until I noticed Her staring at me. Was she even staring at me? Sometimes, a spacey person's stare will fall so heavy, they don't even know what they're staring at or even that they are staring. They just stare. No reason. Was that the reason? Was she even staring at me? Or past me? Or directly at me? Into me? I am pretty sure she was staring at me. She was. No doubt. But why? And she didn't break off the stare when I looked back either. Weird. Had she fallen asleep with her eyes open? If so, what was she dreaming? Her face had settled into a drowsy, cocked obtuse configuration, the only thing supporting the whole mug was that bottom lip kind of curled up with some kind of cognition somewhere deep in there. How do you just stare at a person like that?

Stare at the freak!

Stare at the weak link on the team!

Stare at the guy around whom...you...repeatedly mention in passing...that your EX has your daughter tonight...and that you're not quite sure how you'll fill your evening...other than being logged onto your work Skype account...endlessly going over text, images and layout on a site that people just barely care about blah blah blah with one other person pretty steadily logged onto his work Skype account for a while there...noticing that you spelled 'Thursday' wrong in your Skype status...

One night at a department happy hour, people were taking turns talking about how much home life they were missing out on because of all the long hours. I mentioned the fact that I didn't really have anything better to do. You said yeah, you too, and that you and I (each, separately in our own little worlds, I guess, or maybe not) should both do something about that. Whatever. Maybe. Maybe not.

Quit picking on me. You don't know how hard it is to keep the data flowing from forms to tables through the wizards triggering the messages and the fueling the B.I....all -- while trying to look nice too.

And I'll try to remember to forget something else too...but I'll keep the wisdom from it - or I'll decide which cases to ditch it in: When somebody mentions the fact that they sure could use a shoulder rub (again, at that same dreadful table - different day, you being the one mentioning it -- mentioning it to nobody in particular -- I guess -- me being seated directly across from you that time), yes, when somebody mentions the fact that they sure could use a shoulder rub, it doesn't necessarily mean that they want one from you (me).

Extended Interview: Eric Klinenberg's 'Going Solo'

I'm a bit of a social science buff. I heard an interview with the author of Going Solo, Eric Klinenberg, on NPR, on my car radio, and I went home and ordered the book right away. The book is about people who live alone.

In 1950, only 22 percent of American adults were single. Today, more than 50 percent of American adults are single, and 31 million - roughly one out of every seven adults - live alone.

He's saying that this is "the biggest demographic shift since the baby boom." This is definitely not an American-only phenomenon, and it is not as stigmatized as it used to be. In the interview on NPR, he was saying that people who live on their own often have more engaged social lives...than say...somebody trapped in a marriage and isolated from everybody except their mate and/or their kids. People are adjusting to living this way. They prefer it.

Klinenberg uses the term 'lonester' which is not an exact equivalent to how I user the term 'loner' though. His lonesters seem a lot more engaged than my loners.

A couple years ago I read Bowling Alone, by Robert Putnam.

He pointed to the decline in participation in all kinds of clubs, organizations, churches and so on. This book was dense with statistics about the erosion of "social capital" - how over the last fifty, sixty, seventy years, people were dropping out or not joining at all. He had a pessimistic view about us loners and the fate of us loners. We're sicker, sadder, crazier, and less helpful (I guess) than people who go to church and glee club and bowling league events.

Next I would like to read some hardcore social science wisdom focused at online community - online life. Or, I guess I could read all about it online. I did read something from which I remember a salient factoid...I don't remember where I read it, but: It said that people who are already loners really benefit from online interactions, they are only helped by it. But with people who go from being super social - - in the physical, real world offline - - to internet only type human interaction - - it kind of screws them up. Who knows....

What do you think?

forgetfulness

It's getting harder and harder to stay mad at those grouches at work...especially given how funny they are. I.T. people. They're snappin at you or talking over you one minute, and then they're forcing beer and food down your throat the next. I'm starting to understand them a bit better...how intense they are...how intense the whole ballgame is...how ambitious they are, We're gonna change the culture of this whole company, maaaaan!

They're very intense. And they want you to know more about how you should handle your data. They want you to succeed. They already know. They love you, they just don't want you buzzin their phones.

I hope I can chose my own adventure in there...design my own role. I'm psyched about B.I....data warehousing...the business of business. Data, normalized and then denormalized again for all your querying fantasies.

I'm new, so they get mad at me a lot. They're patient to a degree, but they really want to whip the stupid out of me...but my hide is rough and thick (and raw).

Weekend Human Contact Update

So far this weekend, the only humans I have spoken to in person have been my neighbor, some guy at Starbucks and various cashiers. I am going to make the following note to self, a life tip, a rule: No More Cashier Crushes. They are paid to be nice to everybody - - it’s not the case that they are being extra nice to me and me alone because they want to …ahem whatever. Cashier crushes have never worked out. Except once. Once when I was in high school, I flirted with a lady working at a toy store, and we went out on a few dates.

Why was I in the toy store? Because I saw her in there when I was walking by.

I have one current cashier crush that is worth mention. She is the manager at the CVS drugstore down the street where I sometimes pay way too much for cigarettes (I can get them at the Racetrack gas station much cheaper). But. The nice lady at CVS…she is so nice to me. But, she’s a runner. She runs half-marathons. Very fit and health conscious. My purchases of cigarettes and my chatty ways and my false assurances that I am about to quit smoking are not impressing to her at all. It’s a paradox. I have to keep buying cigarettes there in order to ‘run into her’ but my main point every time I talk to her is that I am about to quit. I can see the weariness in her face lately when I go in there. I'll go be sensible about my cigarette purchases (even though she gave me a discount card without making me fill out the application...and when I lost that one - she gave me another) Cashier crushes are pathetic (and possibly creepy. And kind of cruel: those people gotta work there, they can‘t escape the flirting and badgering). I’m done with it...even if the cashier calls me ‘honey’ -like the super cute and tatooed cashier at the Walgreens drugstore near work.

It’s clear that my instances of human contact, normal human contact, are far too few.

What's Your Scene?

A friend mentioned the drum circle tonight. I thought we were both done with that scene. Whenever it is drum circle night, however, inevitably, one of us mentions it. What if we go? Maybe it'll be cool. Maybe.

I have met interesting people at drum circles. That's where I met the above mentioned friend (one of the two friends that I currently have, ha, aside from work friends...but that's different and highly conditional...). I started going to drum circles here in Florida about a year ago. When I lived in DC, I used to walk by them a lot and wonder what they were all about. It didn't look like my kind of thing, drum circles...I was too busy looking for a pick-up soccer game or a bar -- or a bar with a poetry reading/spoken word type thing. Or an indie rock show. Or a pool table. Or a bookstore. Or: I was going to meet my girlfriend (who is now my ex-wife).

But. Now I'm in Florida. Single. Bored...when I'm not working that is...bored. I was going to drum circles regularly, like I say, last year...I'm still not sure if it's my thing...I started to doubt it though. I'm still trying to figure out what my thing is, I guess. My latest thing, I mean. I have to face the fact that I'm a khaki clad, short hair, half ass i.t. dude who eats meat and smokes cigarettes. I mean: I do drive a Corolla and listen to NPR (whatever that means)...I'm into Buddhist writings and Vedanta (at least I think it's Vedanta...or at least...that's what some people call it). I don't know. I'm not religious, but I kind of piece together bits and pieces of various religions...as a hobby. That kind of identifies me...lack of a concrete identity, just a hodge podge of this and that. I'm a little sporty, a little drunky, a tiny bit hippie, a tiny bit techie (that's my job anyway). Most of the clothes I have - people bought them for me for Christmas or my birthday - - because they thought it was something that I would wear -which happened to come true. I did wear it. It's what I wear. I buy at thrift stores too though see. Rambling here. But that's what blogs are for, right? How did I get on this subject -or this hodge podge of subjects? Oh yeah, I was talking about drum circles, and drum circle people. Some of them seem to be real deal gone granola tye dye twenty-first century hippies. Some of them are burning man types. Some of them are elderly folks lookin for exercise and community. Some of them are college stoner kids. One, two or a few of them look like scary karate champ types with big guns (muscular arms I mean) who look like they'd pulverize you if you spilled their herbal tea.

I haven't even defined for you (if you're still reading) what a drum circle is. But surely you must know already. So I won't. Google it if you want. Or go ask a social anthropologist. Or better yet, check your local listings and just show up at one.

So, what's my scene? I know some scenes I used to be into...scenes that I should probably get back into: Poetry readings were my thing for five or six years in DC. There was a whole gang of regulars I knew at DC poetry readings. Get drunk and grab the mic and read your scribblings to the people. Pick-up soccer, for a long-ass time, was my thing -- but I have since picked smoking back up. Cough. Now? I don't know.

So tell me. What's your scene?

Social Life = Mission Impossible

Circumstances are preventing me from establishing meaningful human contact. These circumstances are largely work related. I thought things at work would slow down this week, but it's still crazy. There are a lot of problems still to fix. I worked until midnight last night and until nine tonight. Work is taking up most of my time.

I'm still new at this i.t. stuff. I find it hard to be friends with my coworkers, because when things go wrong with these hard tasks they throw at me...it's just...not friendly times. You get to feelin foolish and inadequate. Most of these people have been doing i.t. for years...they are a different species from another universe.

It's hard to be friends with the people at work, and I can't take much time outside of work to have a life. As I type this, I feel like I should be doing some work. Work work work. I want a brain-dead job like I used to have. But. I'd probably complain about that too...I'm so under-utilized...boo hoo...and I got no money to go out and do stuff with people...haha.

I hope I can get my brains in order and keep a good attitude and win some people over. Soon!

next

I was soooo busy. Things are winding down after a huge project, but there is still some cleanup to do, still 'phase two.' I received some disappointing news, but there are encouraging things too. I didn't get an i.t. salary - - like I thought I would...moving from my old department into i.t. I'm still in this limbo phase between departments. I do i.t. work, nerd work - I work in the i.t. department - but they're still going to pay me the rate I earned in my old department (actually, the rate from two departments ago...I've worked in three different departments there). Sucks. But. I only got into the i.t. racket last year. I was worried they were going to boot me out of i.t., but my INTENSE Ukrainian director - my boss's boss - he gave me a terrific pep talk: There's a career path and a plan for me, he said. The money will come, he said, but I still need mega-improvement. I can live with that. I'd like to be friends with him - - and the whole i.t. crew, but I've never felt like I was on equal footing with them. That will come eventually too I guess. I go to happy-hours with them and all... I guess they're not the most personable folks in the world. They're more machine-like, and that's nature of the work and the character type.

I read an article at Boing Boing, "How to Blog." Articles like this are hit and miss, I guess. This one said you shouldn't really blog about yourself. Eventually you end up boring everybody - - including yourself. This runs counter to other writing advice I've seen. Blogging is its own form and all -- with its own standards and character and quirks - - but - - you should write what you know. You know yourself best of all (unless you don't - - and if you don't - that's a real good reason to start exploring the subject of self).

Yep. I write about myself. I'm not trying to be an internet rock star necessarily. I'm thinking and hoping my problems and discoveries might be universal - - we all have them - - and if we all keep chipping away at them - - - maybe we'll do some good.

Hitting the Mattresses

Here's a goofy friendship story. During my college days, I ran with a bigger circle of people (bigger than two, that is). I think there were six of us that night.

Our neighbors - like four or five guys, all crammed in one tiny apartment - they moved out suddenly. They left all of their mattresses and boxsprings next to the curb for the trashmen to pick up.

My friends and I were in the right 'state of mind' for a crazy plan, and I hatched one. We took all of the discarded mattresses and boxsprings, and we stacked them next to the building. This produced a 'crashmat' that was about four feet thick.

There was a tree next to the building with a thick branch that grew right over the roof. You could climb this tree easily and be on the roof in seconds. We all got on the roof and took turns running and jumping off of the roof onto the stack of mattresses. It was some of the best fun I've ever had in my life. We were getting wild and crazy with it, doing flips and yelling and screaming. Then the cops came.

The cops told us to cut that shit out - - they said somebody was going to get hurt. So we said okay and waited for them to leave. After they left, we resumed the activity for another hour or so.

Then they came back and saw a few of us standing in the yard after we had made our jumps. They asked us if we were still doing that stupid shit, and we said no - - no way. There was still one guy on the roof, though, waiting to make his jump, this guy named Christian. Christian didn't know that the cops had returned. So Christian comes running across the roof, screaming, gung ho, balls-out crazy "YEAH! WOO HOO" - - and he already had a cast on his arm from some previous stupid, dangerous activity (skateboarding on painkillers or something). Christian spotted the police right before he made his jump. He stopped - - and just stood there on the roof, kind of looking at his feet, not knowing what to do next. The cops just looked at each other.

A Little Better Than a Photo of My Tupperware Cupboard

Today a friend and I hiked around a watershed. Neither of us are serious hikers (or photographers) - - but it was great to get out into the sun, away from the sound of the inevitable internal combustion engine. It was so bright out, so a lot of the photos were washed out.

I'm lucky to live in such a beautiful place, Florida. I'm lucky I can drag this friend of mine on death marches like this. We ran out of water quickly, so we headed back to the car.

Not long after my wife left last year, I saw this poem slide show piece on youtube. I had already met a few people who fit into the categories - - people coming into my life for a reason -- or for a season, - - hopefully this particular friend of mine will be there for a lifetime. He has been a life long spiritual seeker - - and while I'm not into spirituality nearly as much as he is and probably won't ever be - - he pointed to a lot of things that really saved my soul. Great person. Great friend. He'll come up here and crash the weekend if we feel like a more hustling environment - - I'll go down and crash at his place if we are into a more chill weekend.

We always have awesome weekends - - even if we don't do anything but roam.

Roaming is the best. Never know what you'll see.

Recruiting Loners

Driving around last night with a friend (one of the two friends I have), I thought about what I always think about when it's just us two dudes - - namely: I wish we had a broader circle of friends. This wish is counter to my loner nature. I guess I'm conflicted or something. I've said before that the best friend for a loner is another loner. The best circle of friends for a loner, then, must be a circle of loners. At what point do loners fall out of the category of loner and become non-loners? Maybe I shouldn't be thinking in these terms and using this label, loner.

Earlier yesterday in our roaming, we were in a spiritual bookstore, and I saw a guy who looked really familiar. I realized he was a guy whose picture I'd seen a lot at meetup.com. He initiates lots of spiritual meetups, but I don't think they are very well attended. I was thinking, Wow, I should talk to that guy. It would have been weird though. Hi. I recognize you from your photo - - because I've considered attending one of the many meetup groups you've initiated - but - for some reason - I never have.

No Friends -- A Possible Reason Why (or result of)

I would probably have more friends if the tupperware configuration in my cupboard was a little more orderly. Or maybe this is just a small indicator of a larger problem. My life is a mess (and I won't show you any other photos of the rest of my apartment (or of me)).

It's not dirt dirty here. It's just disorderly. Kind of like me.

I got no time. I got no time even for a rhyme (well -- I made time this time).

I'm working about 60 hours a week lately. That is not as much as some people, but it's enough to wipe out a lazy guy like me (a lazy guy with a serious netflix habit -- but I'm a functional addict).

Some weeks I work more than 60. I was up until 2:30 trying to make a form work last week. Last week I probably worked more like 70 or 75 hours.

There is a serious deadline March 31st. After that, I will have more free time. I am going to really get my life in order then. It feels good to work this hard though. It brings its own form of purity and order. As I always say, though, there has to be a balance -- a work/life balance.

I started this blog and wanted to interact. But I am already slacking on it. I can't wait until I have more time to develop this. Some day I will actually post photos worth looking at! One night I messed around with my blog template and fonts. What do you think of this font? Is it hard to read? I thought it complimented the leaves and vine background.

--MOrE lAter. I promise.

Beware: Freshly Divorced Dude

There are women at work who used to be really friendly with me. This was back when I was in a committed relationship, and it was clear that I was in a committed relationship. Lately, though, as the news of my divorce makes its way through the grapevine, I've noticed that some of these women have become distant. (Maybe I'm imagining it. This is a definite possibility with me...that I'm imagining it...and imagining other things...I'll save 'Imaginary Problems' for another blog post).

I think that these women are worried: They worry that, now that I am single, I will start to see our friendship as more than a friendship, and that I'll start to 'develop other kinds of feelings' ...and that I'll start hitting on them . . . and to tell you the truth, I am not entirely sure that they are wrong!

But. Restraint. I can't go work being a disgusting pig, hitting on all the women. I'm a little surprised (or not) that these women think that I would go around work being a disgusting pig, hitting on all of them (if that's what they think). Who knows. Maybe they're just really busy (I know I am). Maybe they have their own troubles, and they don't feel like hearing me complain about mine, Poor me, my wife left me. Maybe I'm generally seen as a leper and a pariah at work for all kinds of reasons that I'm not even aware of...divorce is just the latest reason to avoid me. Maybe I think too much. Sometimes I think so much, I get these headaches.

Friends Who Were Too Wild

I’ve had some wild friends: hard drinking, hard playing, hard-hearted, hard-headed hard-asses. Do I attract these people? …more so than the average person? Did I enjoy watching their wild antics a little? Did they enjoy having me in their audience? Maybe I was too scared to not pay attention, scared to tune a person like that out out…always feeling the need to …keep an eye on that one…and before long, they’d won me over. I laughed at all their jokes (because they were funny). When I was a kid, somehow, I always ended up being friends with the bully kid. Maybe it’s because I learned how to spot them and humor them and not piss them off - because my brother was a super bad badass (and that‘s no lie…right until the day he died). Humor them…use the language of humor. I respond to all forms of humor. Wild people and bullies usually have nutty senses of humor.

These friendships usually dropped off when I was transitioning to more peaceful, stable times. I stopped being friends with the guy who was always looking for a fight - who was always looking to get the rest of us in a fight, who was trying to have sex with every woman in sight (and succeeding to a staggering degree), including my girlfriend and most everybody else’s in our little ‘gang’…that dropped off when I got a 9-5 desk job after college.

I had a few friendships drop off when I graduated from college. I met the lady who would I would end up marrying, who I was with for thirteen years. I got pretty serious with her pretty quick. Those guys got pretty serious about cocaine pretty quick.

I stopped being friends with a hard drinking lady friend, a Burning Man regular - a hula-hoopin, self-proclaimed wicca witch, who, over time became a little more than friends. That was after I got on a serious peace and awareness trip (this was fairly recent).

I miss all of these people. I sometimes wonder what it would be like if I reached back out to them. All indicators indicate that they’re still just as wild as ever, wild for life. You’re either all in with them or you’re out, I guess.

Friends with Benefits

...not sure I can handle this sort of arrangement. Not yet, anyway. Maybe never. Maybe. Maybe not.

I have had a couple of arrangements like this since my wife left. Neither went well. It was super terrific while it lasted, don't get me wrong. I'm a guy, guys really like...that. But one of the people involved gets a little too involved emotionally, while the other person thinks the sex part is for fun and the friendship is just a friendship...not a lifetime partnership. I have been on both sides of this dilemma in my first two 'flings.' Being on the clinging, falling-in-love side: you get your heart broken. Being on the sex-for-fun, more detached side: you have the regrets of breaking somebody's heart. Maybe I'm still too shakey at this point to handle any kind of intimate relationship, I'm still shakey from my failed marriage...it was too soon to jump into the pool.

Maybe I'm just a monogamous kind of guy. Or: Maybe people aren't meant to 'own' each other. Maybe I just need to get used to 'friends with benefits' arrangements. Or: Maybe...as I always say - and as I will continue to say - there is a balance (some kind of balance...not sure what that would be in this case...seems black and white). If you are into somebody who is equally into you...and other factors are playing out favorably...and 'stars are aligned just right,' ...you are very, very lucky.

A friend of mine told me about Paul Lowe. He's the man who runs this 'workshop' ...that they made a documentary about...with a bunch of naked people in it. (It's about more than gettin naked...ha...there are serious spiritual/self questions pondered). Here's Paul Lowe's take on monogamy...and he's smarter than I am...not sure if I buy all of what he says...maybe some...maybe not:

The Best Type of Friend for a Loner Is Another Loner

It's just that it's hard for loners to run into each other and strike up friendships...because they don't get out that much.

I had terrific plans to hang out with a person who I adore this weekend, but at 2:30am this morning, I woke up to an odd sensation in my left eye. I won't go into too much ghastly detail, but I will say that my eyeball felt like it was going to pop like a balloon. You guessed it, conjunctivitis. I didn't cruise into work today...worked from home a bit. And I went to retail type healthcare center and got some high-grade eye drops.

Anyway, the person who wanted to hang around with me is this real hardcore loner I know from work. She has really isolated herself in the last couple of years. We hung out a few times last year, but it was difficult to get her to commit to any kind of plan, no matter how simple. Or, she would agree to a plan and bail at the last minute. She did that a bunch of times. I didn't write her off though. I understood. The need for solitude. Loners know this. But, her degree of solitude worried me, and on the rare occasions that I could get her on the phone, I told her so.

I talked to her on the phone the other night, and she said she had been getting out now and then lately. She likes to play poker, and it sounds like she's getting pretty good at it. She said she wanted to get out more and more...that she wanted to hang with me - like we used to. Our usual routine is to drink lots and lots of beer. I'm not so much into a drinking phase lately, so maybe I'll suggest...coffee...or kicking around a soccer ball...or going for a walk...or whatever.

We'll see whether she comes out or not. Sounds like she will. She said she trusts me, and she appreciates that I understand The Solitude. The best friends I've had have been other loners. With the friends I've had who were super social butterflies, it was awkward when I got injected into that circle of friends. Soon they realized how much of a loner I was, and things kind of unraveled.

Being Alone/ Adyashanti

In my efforts to 'get my mind right,' I've watched a lot of videos on YouTube. I'd like to start a YouTube channel and aggregate some of these great videos...videos of Gangaji, Sadhguru, Mooji...  The following one seems relevant to my topic on this blog, but it speaks of a positive from of 'aloneness.'

I would have more friends if I had more energy.

Human interactions, to me, are exhausting. I think I put a little more into it than normal humans do. My brain races: what to say next, what does this person mean, what does this person think of me, what is this person all about, how do I avoid insulting this person, what is the best possible thing I could say to this person, is this person following me, does this person think I'm an idiot...blah blah blah goes my brains.

Combine the above with the fact that I am currently working in the hardest job I have ever had. It is the hardest thing I've ever done of any kind. When I leave that place, I am exhausted.

Maintaining a 'normal' social life under any circumstances is exhausting. Rush home. Shower up. Race back out. Meet whomever. Stay out late. Get up early. Go to work....

The scheduling and scheduling conflicts are exhausting. Somebody will say, Hey, you want to hang out tomorrow? I say yes, and then I'll remember, Oh no! I already told that other person I'd hang out with them! Ah! And I agonize over it.

I need more stamina, I guess. I need to build up more stamina...get off my butt and get out.

I would have more friends if I had a thicker skin.

I have met some really interesting people - people who - even though they were truly fascinating and fun, I never really hit it off with them...long term...because...it seemed to me: They were a bit ...course. They were critical of me. Or they got their kicks foolin around, taking jabs at me (or whoever) - you know - pickin at ya...pickin at whoever. I guess it was just for fun...not necessarily harmful. But my reaction was: Screw this. I don't need the aggravation.

Well. Maybe I do need the aggravation. Maybe a little criticism might lead me to a little self-improvement. Maybe a little self-improvement might lead me to a broader circle of friends.

Or: Maybe it will change me into somebody I don't want to be...namely...a douche bag. A callous, insensitive douche bag. Up to this point I just haven't seen the point in mixing it up with people who constantly pick at each other, who force you to 'conform' or get out or whatever. I have had my own thoughts and opinions. I like my thoughts and opinions. I like my quirks. Quirks don't cut it in the clique though, I guess. I'm sure there's a balance, a middle path. What do you think?

Getting Me Out of My Shell

People have tried all kinds of horrifying things to 'get me out of my shell.' They notice this skittish nature I have and they think, Well, I'll cure him of that!

These efforts have neither been complete failures nor complete successes. I have at least learned the ways in which people will 'test' ya...'challenge' ya...toughen ya up. I've learned to recognize when an attempt like this is being made. And it shows that these people care. They try a while and then give up...or I give up...or I meet the minimum threshold of courage required for...whatever the situation is...I learn a little, I guess.

I've made my own efforts at getting out of this shell...gone up on the microphone in spoken word events or poetry readings...blurted out odd sentence fragments in meetings at work...I've stammered through and been somewhat functional.

I just turned forty-one...and I'm still trying to conquer this...whatever it is...social anxiety or whatever.

All Posts Unedited, Honest, Rough Drafts...Starting with this, My First One

I decided to start a blog about loneliness. I don't want to be alone. I don't think I want to be alone...but I am alone because of choices I have made...but there are other causes too. My lack of social skills is a big reason. Another cause is the snap decision to write somebody off...which I later regret. I make these decisions when I am emotional. I later think about it and wonder, Was it really that bad? I miss that dude. I miss that lady. I shouldn't have been so mean to them. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was when I was in the moment. Too late. Maybe. Probably. Maybe I could reach back out to these people. They'll think I'm a flake. They would be right. I am flakey. I can't help it. Or can I... I try, I really do try, not to be so flakey.

I should mention the fact that I do enjoy my alone time....just not this much alone time.

This is going to be the worst blog post ever written, all over the place, but I'm sticking to my rule: Unedited, Honest, Rough Drafts. (I will allow myself a few backspaces and deletes here and there when I've made an obvious grammar or spelling error...but...NO GOING BACK AND EDITING AND REPOSTING).

I'm going to keep my posts short too! If I have a focused thought, I'll post it. I'll try to keep em focused. Anyway, back to the topic at hand: Loneliness

I have two friends...I guess. One is my neighbor...so he kind of has to be my friend. The other is a dude I met at a drum circle. I have only known these guys a year. I don't have anybody from my past who I am still really in touch with. I have written people off. People have written me off. I am recently divorced. I followed her up and down the east coast leaving behind friends and family and opportunities...but that's a subject for a whole different blog, a divorce blog. Maybe later. Maybe elsewhere. Maybe not. Divorce was probably the best option we had. She was my life though. She was my one and only friend for a while. I mean, there were other friends now and then...but...with her gone...the loneliness is especially acute.

I've never lived alone before. I always had roommates (some of whom were close friends! ...but not anymore). I've always had roommates or lived with family or lived with her. Now I'm pretty alone.

I'm going to hit 'PUBLISH POST' now...and I'm not going to edit after that. This seems important for some reason.