Not trying, just being

In my existence I've gone through a couple stages of life. As a youngster I was shy and quiet and generally kept to myself. As a teen I was focused on wearing the acceptable thing and being with the acceptable people and all that silly uptight stuff. In my mid twenties I was trying to be a better person and aspiring to things that seem a little silly. Finally, after all these ebbs and flows I'm in my 30's and I'm me. I don't worry so much about what others think, I say my opinion, and I have the mentality that just being who you are is the way to filter the gunk out of social relationships.

I used to play things PC, be consoling of people I disagreed with, and generally put my thoughts second. But, that part of me is gone. I don't really care so much about impressing, or trying to get in with certain people. Honestly, all I care about is relating on a common level. People are very different and don't always see eye to eye. I'm ok with that. I also think its perfectly acceptable for me to be a friend to someone I don't always see eye to eye with. I often fall into this trap, I'm a pretty laid-back, polite, do the right thing kind of guy. Naturally, that means that when I meet new people many happen to be Religious.

I don't have a problem with Religion on a personal level, but I do have a lot of opinions that most likely rub Religious people the wrong way, and I'm not going to just pretend like I don't disagree. But this also means that I don't poke fun at them for their beliefs. I always have a test of sorts. I think that being Religious is great if you realize that dogma is bad. I've been friends with Muslims, Christians, Jews, and Buddhists, and it all boils down to the realization that spirituality is not static and absolute.

In terms of people relations, I just feel freer now. In my workplace I feel free to joke around and make a fool of myself, because that is part of me. I sometimes worry that by being goofy or funny others will take me as unprofessional, but in reality I'm super hard on myself and know that I always do my best. If anything its a form of bonding and morale boosting, and I also do not take myself too seriously. I realize that I'm just a man and am fallible.

Its also really funny being "free." Its now finally dawning on me that I'm divorced, have a whole damn home to myself, no kids, and am relatively young. I have friends tell me to get out and fuck everyone. Yah, that is not gonna happen. No matter how free I may be, that's just not me. I learned a lot from the failure of my past relationship and that is: don't play games, be genuine, and make sure you are in a relationship for the right reasons. In the past, I stayed in a crappy relationship for too long. I thought that through work things could change. Unfortunately, when you are in a relationship with someone who has dramatic mood swings every six months things don't change, they come full circle.

All this just brings me to now. I see all these engaging, lovely women and yet its like I don't care. This is a growth spurt for me. In the past, any lovely woman who I got along with I would think romance. But now there is just more nuance. I think about different things: will you be able to handle my terrible jokes, will you be able to handle my tight-knit family, do you realize that I'm lazy, do you get that when I fall in love I'm undyingly loyal, can you handle the fact that I will question your beliefs, or that you must realize I'm stubborn as hell and nagging doesn't work. And most of all, does she understand that I want a partnership, I don't expect her to be my mom and I am not going to be her daddy. She must realize that I'll always find her beautiful, even with bags under her eyes, wrinkles setting in, and stretch marks in places that have changed over the years. I have a whole lot of acceptance and now the difference is that I don't want to give it away so easily. 

Birthday party - downs then ups

Pre party

Getting ready for a night out that will eventually involve a warehouse dance club. Looking at myself in the mirror I think: "I look like a 34 year old single dad. Zero sex appeal." I take off my hat and look at my thinning hair and try to spice it up. A little gel and finger action should possibly do the trick. Suddenly don’t look like a trucker. The only other problem is that all the clothes i have are just wrong. The wool pullover sweater i'm wearing is Costco sheek. The T-shirt below it is pretty cool; unfortunately, several months of improper food consumption mean that it is a tad too easy for my belly to pop out. I throw on a stylish coat to cover it all up.

One hour til party.

I'm dreading every moment before meeting up with the party group. It is pouring rain and the nearest car2go is a mile away. I use a feature on the app called the radar to monitor an area in hopes that a car will become available. 30 min later a car2go shows u, 5 blocks will be ok.

Arriving at Blitz Ladds

Never been to the place. But low and behold, fucking Jerome Kersey, Terry Porter, and all these local Trail Blazers are recording a goddamn TV program. I sneak by. The bar is the longest, brightest place i've seen. Booths and TVs stretch for the distance. I wander having no idea where my clan is. I find ‘em at about the halfway mark. I greet everyone awkwardly and nervously, as i missed lunch and feel shaky. The pleasantries go well enough, and then i get around to some sitting. My attention is completely disrupting by the 30 plus screens filled with sports and Harry Potter. Eventually, a waitress is flagged down and she takes my order, totchos and a gin and tonic. She makes a comment that happens very often when i hand over my debit card, “how do you say your last name?” I of course reply: “Purkapile.” People are always unphased by how something that looks so exotic has such a lackluster pronunciation. She smiles to herself and walks away.

As I order the call comes in: 30 minutes til clubbing. I get my food scarf it down and put the half filled plate of leftovers in a napkin wrap. I jokingly tell everyone that come midnight they will thank me for the, “tots in my pocket, which have congealed to become burrito-like.”

Waiting in line at a dance club

The line stretches for a ways. We luckily skip like 10 people due to our friends. In the line we joke and converse. It comes up that my other friends also feel old. They look around and see lovely 22 year-olds in fantastic attire. We wait a bit longer. The waiting gives an opportunity to really talk to my friend who has been out of town for years. She lives in New York and recently graduated. She told me of the difficulties of living in the city. The cost of living is absurd. She can't casually grab a burrito, or a beer. The jobs she has found pay too little. She wants to get out but its complicated. Her boyfriend is also wading through the difficulties with low pay and opportunity. She talks about the difficulties of finding good jobs in Portland which would pay enough to cover her loans. What she tells me sucks, and brings a bunch of empathy from me. She she asks if I would be willing to move for opportunities, and i reply too quickly: “No. My family is here and I’d miss them too much. I would rather be making less here than more in another place.”

In da’ Club

We all get hit by the bass. It shatters our 30 year old bones. Just kidding. We all are finding the lights and the music difficult to handle. Eventually we saunter up to the bar, which is a life like version of Lord of the Flies. Its chaos, elbows hitting tits, asses bouncing off hips, drinks spilling down blouses. After the melee, drinks are in hand. We proceed to the back area of the large dimly lit warehouse. We find an awkward little bench suitable for 4 but which will serve a party of 8. We listen to the tunes, which are more like thumps and grunts, and our bodies start twitching. My head, elbows, and ass won’t stop moving. Mind you, I never actually get up. I’m table dancing.

Hours later

The liquor has done its due, and finally im up and shaking. The music took control. The end.

(got too tired to write anymore, sorry…)