I'm Into Negative Lifelines

 

Part 11 of 30

My Fragile Self-Esteem

So far I’ve clearly expressed the truth that my self-esteem is fragile and getting worse. The way it feels inside is … lots of jitters. I'm anxious all the time, ducking down so no one notices me, retreating to the back of the room, preferably the coat closet or somewhere to escape the staring eyes of others, always tempted to leave early or not show up at all.

Plus, I'm terrified someone might call attention to me, as in, “What was that strange thing you said the other day about ___?” Everyone turns to hear me, they’re smiling a bit, I break out in a sweat, I stumble out a few words before trembling like a snare drum, then end up throwing my apron over my head and running screaming from the room. The biggest thing I wonder about is why I'm wearing an apron.

I think I need a working buddy system, like on game shows where I get some lifelines before I'm completely booted out. Of course the problem with that is social settings aren’t game shows, which everyone knows is a game and they’re rooting for you. This is real life, and -- not to get too anxious -- you can’t really pause social settings to claim a lifeline without blowing yourself out of the water. Instant guilt.

So whatever lifelines I have need to be spent more surreptitiously. Like if I'm meeting someone, the conversation is extremely awkward -- my fears sabotage me as the rule, not the exception. I squint my eyes at a friend and that means, “I want to use a lifeline, meet me in the kitchen.” Where he chastises me for using a lifeline in the first five minutes. Then says, “You’re as good as anyone, stop worrying about wasting the world’s resources, you didn’t ask to be born.”

The friend adds, “If you’re paying attention to the conversation and not just your own insecurities, you’ll notice that the things others are saying aren’t exactly pearls of wisdom, but basic observations, ‘It’s hot at work,' 'The movie was bad,' and 'No, it’s not too hot in here.'" Even though I'm sweating through my underwear and telling myself I shouldn't feel sorry to be alive.

Anyway, I used up my last lifeline, all very regrettable. Then I was on the verge of making a scene and my friend saw my anxiety. I truly am a worm, so he accompanied me to the kitchen again:

“You’re now in negative lifelines, dude, this can’t go on. If you’re not happy, leave. If your self-esteem is that far in the toilet, you should probably avoid coming to parties. Yes, it’s going to look awkward if you get your coat from the bedroom already. What you should do is leave, then come back the next day and say you forgot it."

That’s pretty good advice, and imagine that, a bonus lifeline came through right when I needed it. I’m lucky like that.

I'm Shutting This Party Down

Part 23 of 31

They Found Another Body

I hope I’m not coming across too moralistic in this series, a goody two shoes kind of guy. I’m trying to cut everyone a lot of slack, really. Engaging everyone’s proclivities, trying to see the good sides as well as the bad. And even though they always end in death, there’s still some degree of good in getting there. And whether death is the only outcome, I don’t think I’ve claimed that. For every 20 people who die, I have no doubt someone survives. Only to die another day, having built up so much false self-confidence by the apparent escape.

If you want self-confidence, and if you want to live, just don’t take part in anything dangerous. Exercise moderately, not to the point of working up a sweat. Drink a little if you want, just make sure you nurse the bottle along so you’ve drunk one whole bottle over a period of three or four years. Do everything with such discipline and reserve, and you could be like me, living till you’re old and gray, losing your memory, and wondering to yourself — with no survivors around to remind you — who am I and why am I here?

We’re looking today at a full scale bacchanalia. A long table and enough ugly ass characters lost in reverie and drunkenness to the point that they’re not going to make it. Yes, some will make it. For every party like that, there’s always survivors. Giving hope to other idiots that it can be done. Instead of what should happen, which is that the sky would open, a beam of light coming from as many directions as there are people that would lift each one up to the ceiling and give them a stern warning: “If you want to live, you need to settle down. Your place in life is to exercise moderation. Going whole hog is for hogs, not men. The things you are laughing at hysterically are not objectively funny. You see your mate drooling. Or passed out. That’s not humorous, but detracts from his worth in your estimation and makes you look bad. You need to shut the hell up, get back in line, and march it out of here single-file, one by one, or you'll be judged harshly and put in your place.

Then whoever’s left witnesses the spirit of Carrie Nation, well-known enemy of drinking and carousing, stepping in and breaking every one of those rotgut bottles against the sidewalk, overturning the tables, and airing the place out. With each of the merrymakers sat down in a stern place and given the talking to of their lives. If you want to live, here’s how it’s going to be done. 1, 2, 3. Any questions? Hearing none, you’re off to home. Do not stop anywhere for a nightcap. We will know about it and we will destroy you.

Well, you know this crowd. No self control. They’d rather die crooked than go straight. And that’s exactly what happened. A candle was overturned and burnt the place to the ground. Those who survived the longest, their eyes bulged out and it was a hideous sight for the poor guys who cleaned it up. In fact, those guys were so repulsed that they also went out for drinks, became alcoholics, and died later in the early morning hours. The funeral directors for those guys also became disillusioned, took up drinking, and a little bit of dancing. It was disgusting.

Maynard And The Blonde

Part 29 of 30 -- Speaking Ill of The Dead

Before I speak ill of dead Maynard, let me commend him first. It shows real spirit to do what he did. I only wish I were so bold, to show up dead at a party! I don't think I'll get any argument when I say, If you can’t be the life of the party, there’s always the other option. If it’s a Halloween party and/or a costume party, as above, so much better. Whatever heavenly robe you have, angel wings, halo, the whole bit, you'll still fit in, with everyone assuming you’re as alive as them!

If you can do it, that is. I don’t believe in anyone limiting him- or herself in decent pursuits, alive or dead, if you can do it. Right now I’m alive, and barring reincarnation being true, I’ve never been dead. Yes, there was a time I once wasn’t here — this is my feeling and if my parents are truthful it’s a fact — but I wouldn’t say I was dead, just not as fleshed out as I'd like. But when you mention it so starkly, it's kind of weird to have not been here but not to have been dead. Some people say they have memories that go way back; I knew a guy who remembered the radio in his cab ride home from the hospital; I presently don’t have memories like that. Just a big blank nothing.

So Maynard had it going on! But he was a fresh corpse, with his lifeblood and whatever else he lost in the wreck still in the car he drove up in! That’s dedication to the party spirit! And he’s able — still manifesting horniness — to approach a cute blonde and impress her with his angel clothes and even a harp! I’d be like, “Hey, baby, this party’s dead, your cloud or mine?” Get a few floor-mats to cover the puddles of blood in the car, and off we’d go.

It’s funny to me that the guy is swirling the dipper in a party bowl of red punch while at the same time telling the bad news of blood everywhere. Clearly a thirsty guy, not losing his happiness over an apparent fatality just outside. I’d like to think I’d be the same way, The Party Must Go On. People die everyday. I drive by funeral homes and don’t give it a second thought. Through those doors, turn left, 12 paces, you’ll be standing at the end of a long aisle. Look at the other end and you’ll see a box open, the dead in perfect repose, awaiting our kind memories and concentrated thoughts on his individual immortality. “Today we consign Maynard to the clouds, in our mind we see him flapping his arms, lifted up, beating the air and making his way toward the God's throne.”

That’s all after the present-day party, of course, Maynard and the blonde. Truly an interesting dead guy! If I had to speak ill of him at all, it’d probably be on this, How terrible it'll be for the woman when she realizes she was literally with a dead guy. OK? That should be clear. Put it right up front and be honest, “Honey, I am literally dead. Full disclosure. But if you’d go with me, I’d be honored to spend some time with you, wherever it leads.” At that point the ball’s in her lap, if she wants to play ball, that's her choice.

Recruiting A Few Good Men

No. 17 of 31 - Thermometer series

I’ve never stepped out like this, so boldly — but I’ve never had this degree of confidence; I’m overflowing with confidence and actively pursuing men to join me in a great cause. Now here I am, in awe, the big meeting just dismissed. For a successful meeting it was, holding lots of promise for the future of this cause. Inspiring stuff.

Every doubt I might've had is set aside, all because these great guys, these dear souls, these men came together with me and we joined hearts. They promised their all, asking very little in return. But what would they ask? For these are men who've somehow set aside the selfish gene. To the point that, in some weird way, they were more than individuals and yet not a nameless faceless mass. They acted in a single good spirit of cooperation with enthusiasm to match. And I’ve faked enough enthusiasm in my life, I can see it a mile away.

I love the quote this one brother gave me. And he said it in all innocence, but like the all-knowing psychiatrist or professor in a 300-level seminar. I immediately latched on to it with delight: “I came for the free transportation, I stayed for the fun!” Wow, that summed it up for me! Think of the esprit de corps  (literally the spirit of a body, not a corpse) conveyed in that great line. He’s saying he had no idea what the meeting was for — no clue — but because they offered free transportation he was in! I’m personally not that interested in free transportation to places that I don’t necessarily want to go. If the cab company offered free transportation to random places in town, I’d say no thanks. It’s a no-brainer -- who cares -- transportation isn’t that hard to find.

OK, there’s that. But once he got there, the free transportation fulfilling its mission, he stayed for the fun! That’s delightful! Since he's also saying if it hadn’t been fun he wouldn’t have stayed. What would he have done? Gone back home? Just assuming the transportation back home would also be free? That’s what kills me. He got free transportation TO the meeting, but he wouldn’t necessarily get it home if there was no fun to stay for. Still, in a way he would’ve come out OK if he had to pay for transportation home, because it would’ve only been half of what he would’ve paid if transportation there hadn’t been free. But think about it again, he still would be paying money out of pocket for having been at a meeting he hated. And that’d still make me mad if I were him. But he trusted whoever it was that gave him a ride, so it's natural that he'd want to cool any simmering resentment for the sake of his friendship. I’ve done that before, kept my mouth shut so I wouldn’t lose a friend.

Regardless, it’s a moot point. He got free transportation there, he thoroughly enjoyed himself in the meeting, and no doubt got free transportation home. (I just thought of it, if he hadn’t enjoyed himself, he could’ve waited in the car and gotten free transportation home with his original ride. Then I might’ve lost the loyalty of the driver, because he might’ve been worried about his disappointed friend outside. Then he would’ve left. And this other guy over here might’ve been that guy’s best friend, who would say, “Sam doesn’t like this meeting, maybe I should leave too.” And so forth, till it was me and one last guy who needed a free ride home.

It definitely does pay to offer free transportation. That’s the lesson. Because I'm miles ahead if more people like my blog. And if we blow these thermometers sky high, that we might gladly see the mercury spew forth from the tops as the pressure builds and rises and there’s no other place for it to go, until kablewy!.....it shatters the glass and attains the heights of ultimate glory!