The Least Compelling Thing I Can Write

            I may have broken upon a unifying theory of why I am the way I am. I have an all-encompassing aversion to compulsion. To start I will explain how I define compel. To compel means to use force to change the actions of another. Force is the most important word in that definition, and is what separates compulsion from related concepts like influence or persuasion. I’m using force to mean the application of strength or power (that’s the last definition I will give because I want to avoid a Russian Nesting Doll situation). Just explaining the words isn’t going to convey my meaning here, so I will try to do that now.

I get uncomfortable with words that can only be explained in relation to other words

            My aversion to compulsion means that I become uncomfortable when my actions are not self-determined, or when I interfere with the self-determined actions of others. If you’re thinking that this describes almost everything ever you’re correct, and that is why I believe that this has a major influence on almost everything I do, believe, or feel. If effects the way I work, write, drive, eat, poop, and think, not to mention the massive repercussions in all social interactions. I take a very passive role in all my relationships and can't remember a single occurrence of initiating a change in relationship status (such as changing from acquaintance to friend). I’ve never been a member of any unified groups, either as a leader or member, since such unification would almost certainly be compulsive in one way or another. This has got to be the major cause of why my romantic history has such paucity, since getting someone to like you is a compelling act (my poor ability to recognize any naturally occurring affection in others completes the package). The most positive thing about all this is that all my friends tend to be interesting individuals who have value far beyond the fact that they listen to the same music as me.

            To see the influences on my thinking I just have to look back through old blog posts. Anti-compulsion colors my thoughts in most of my more philosophical posts such as the ones on feminism and killing (my thoughts on tallness were actually pretty forceful, but I may have gotten a little carried away on that one). My love of the Ubermensch can be reduced to interpreting the Ubermensch as a person who is beyond compulsion, and my take on philosophical zombies were just people who are lost in compulsion. I already linked my history with women posts which are full of evidence. My ego post is essential just a nascent form of this one. I now see my desire to have no needs as perceiving needs as a compulsive force and railing against them. I even mentioned disliking having an influence on the actions of others in there, but just didn’t notice how it could be applied to everything else I have going on (another thing that I could change in that post is that I now describe my sexual orientation as being asexual, hetero-curious, and bi-envious, to make it ever more absurd). I even think that the writing style itself is demonstrative, with the framing of my content as personal ideas and opinions rather than facts that might carry more force. I’m sure this idea will come up in future posts as well, and someday I may be exploring the as yet unknown source of this dislike of compulsion, so this self-reference will probably continue.

Past actions seem like legitimate evidence for introspection

            Well this has been another stepping stone on my journey of introspection, and writing like this is the best way I know for cementing my ideas. Who needs psychoanalysis when you have a blog! If anyone actually read this far I must admit that I’m surprised you would spend this much time looking at my boring self analysis but thanks, and also hi mom.

My History with Women - Part Four (Still Lame as Hell: The College Years)

                Now I’m a college student in Rapid City, SD. High school senior cockiness has been replaced be college freshman meekness. The beard was gone, only to be replaced by an atrocious ball cap that I had been wearing for ten years (what it lacked in cleanliness and structural integrity it made up for in sentimental value). I had also been wearing nothing but shorts and white tee shirts (symbolically appropriate color wise) for a few years now. I was prepared to meet new and interesting women, and then repel them just as hard as ever.

                We can basically skip my first two years, because they were uneventful even by my standards. Living in the dorms made me even more anti-social than usual, and I was big into escapist video gaming at the time. I did develop a crush on a geology major who was in my Chemistry 101 lab group, but I never did anything but pine after her for the rest of my college career. I should also mention that my college had something like a 7:1 boy to girl ratio, so it wasn’t exactly a target rich environment.

This picture actually has an atypically large number of girls in it

                In junior year, my best friend transferred schools and we got a place together, so my social attitude was much improved. I started to make some actual friends in my classes, but mostly the non-traditional students since I have always been precocious, and wasn’t about to go mainstream with my socialization or anything. One of my friends happened to be a single mother with a job, so we developed a mutually beneficial relationship where I would help her with school and she would introduce me to women. This led to a couple of misadventures. First she introduced me to her cousin who seemed like a good match for me. The problem was that she was leaving on a Peace Corp trip in a few weeks, so there wasn’t a lot that I could do with that.

                The more interesting match happened in the summer after junior year. I was interning in Pierre, SD, and that happened to be the location of the Girls’ State Softball Tournament. My friend was on a team and invited me down to meet people. There were hundreds of girls there so the odds of finding a girl who would talk to me were good. One girl flagrantly said hello to me as I walk past her and her friends, so I was feeling confident. My friend eventually coaxed a shortstop into talking with me, since I am completely unable to cold approach women. We chatted between games throughout the two day tournament. We were able to keep a steady conversation with the help of competitive sports as a topic, but their weren't exactly fireworks between us. At one point, some of the lesbians present warned me that this girl was tripping their gaydar, but I choose to ignore this and attributed her slight standoffishness to my awkwardness.

                After the tournament ended we agreed to keep texting and she went back to Rapid City. I figured that this would work well, since we could develop a conversational rapport over the summer so that things would be less awkward in the fall when I returned to Rapid and we started dating. I was able to learn a lot about her, some rudimentary conversation skills, and how to text adequately (I got a cell phone when I went to college finally). She was a Radiology Tech intern at the hospital and was from Montana. She liked her peanut butter smooth and had strong feelings against white bread.

                A few weeks before school started I was in town to move to my new studio apartment (my friend was getting an apartment with his girlfriend). I asked if she wanted to go out while I was in town, but she gave me a semi-shady excuse. It was at this point that I began to believe that the fabled lesbian prophesy of old might be coming true. Anyhow, we kept texting until school started and then I was back in town to stay. The jig was up and I asked her if she was interested in dating me. She responded with something like “I don’t want a boyfriend right now”, so either she really was into women or she just wasn’t buying what I was selling and wanted to let me down gently (not unlikely). It is also entirely possible that she was telling the complete truth, and was just busy with her job/school life and just didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Our conversations were never more than friendly, so I didn’t exactly charm her (mostly “how was your day”, and no “here is a picture of me in my underwear”). I got some talking to women practice out of it so no hard feelings.

                I didn’t do anything with my entire senior year, since at the speed I move I probably need more than a year to get anywhere. I also don’t really have any interest in just for fun relationships, so I didn’t want to get a girlfriend just so we could break up when I moved after graduation. I did fall in love with a girl who I saw listening to some Hall and Oates, but I never saw her again after that so it wasn't really a big deal. Now college had come and gone, but my chastity was still holding strong.

                After graduating I started a full time job in Pierre, the same job where I interned the previous summer. I hate to say it, but Pierre isn’t exactly a cornucopia of young single women. On top of that, civil engineering is a terrible profession for meeting females (unless you count the occasional rugged construction working ones, but I would rather not). It has been over a year and a half now, and all I have succeeded in doing is to become even more eccentric and undateable (I started a blog and learned how to solder, LADIES). I stopped wearing my old cap, but have started wearing mirrored aviator sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts, so I’m still driving away women like champion. My current infatuation is a girl who works across the street and rides a bike to work. I’ve started riding a bike to work now in an ingenious a lame attempt to get her attention. I don’t even know her name and haven’t seen her in a while now that the weather is getting cold, so I give it about a 99% chance of not going anywhere. One the plus side, riding a bike to work is totally worth it on its own, and is still fun even though I’m not twelve years old anymore (riding through sprinklers is one of my favorite things ever).

What a jerk

                In conclusion, most people have had more romantic experience during a first date than I have had in my entire life. While writing this I got the impression that my fumblings as a youth were amusing, but as I got older just became somewhat sad. The thing is, I don’t really feel sad about it. I don’t know if it’s just my ego trying to defend itself, but I like the way that I am. For one, my lack of experience makes me different and unique, and that is something I probably put too much value in. Secondly, not needing to maintain complex social relationships also gives me a huge amount of time to do all the things that I want to do. What scares me is that I would like even more alone time than I already have (if I could just stop needed to sleep), and I worry that this could be a problem if I do get into a relationship. Anyway, I'm happy with the way my life is now, but I also think I would be happy in a relationship, so I win either way.

TLDR: I’m going to die alone, but it’s totally cool.

My History with Women - Part Three (Slow Times at Campbell County High)

                High school continues. I am now equipped with a misunderstanding about how attractive women find me and a desire to gain as much dating experience as possible. I still have bad facial hair, and still have no understanding of how to behave around girls. Self-embarrassment ahoy!

                Seventeen was a busy year with two more attempts at dating (I guess all those rock songs were right). The first victim of my spastic advances was WAY out of my league. She was a star on the track and cross country teams, in the advances math class, attractive, and nice, to list just a few of her virtues. We were friendly in school (not flirty though, since I’m not sure if I actually can flirt), and we used to do stuff like play cards in math class, so I think I had semi-decent groundwork set up this time. She was one of the first girls that I recruited for my co-ed softball team, which was basically just a giant scheme to get me a girlfriend, with softball being a fringe benefit (I somehow got enough girls to fill half a softball team, even if many of them skipped games fairly often and we were constantly having problems with getting enough girls to play. The girl I liked had a good attendance record however). I had told some friends that I wanted to ask her out so I had some peer pressure pushing me to make a move, which didn't really help me be relaxed about it. I cornered her after one of our softball games and popped the question “Hey, would you like to go out with me sometime?”. She responded with “You mean as friends?”.  My composure shattered like sugar glass, and I lied “Yes”. She ended up giving me her phone number, and I used it to torture her with a few awkward hang outs over the summer. Not my finest hour. I later learned that she knew that I didn’t intend my proposal to be friendly, but I appreciate it that she rejected me in a gentle fashion, although if she would have been mean about it maybe I could have gotten over her better.

Who wouldn't want to date this guy?

                 Before junior prom I got a little desperate and decided to ask a girl that I didn’t even really like if she would go with me. Since I was still feeling the sting of the previous rejection, I went for what I thought was an easy target. I also tried to determine her feelings before putting myself on the line. This didn’t really turn out well, as my intended intermediary failed to understand my desire for subtlety, and ended up just straight asking her for me. She already had a date, so it was all just a waste of time.

                After that year I became a senior, and had the cocky attitude to go with it. I joined an art class from the purpose of picking up chicks (it was actually so I could graduate with honors, but the chicks angle sounds less lame). There was a nice petite girl in my class who was what I later learned to be emo (it was still a new thing at the time). She had bangs in front of one eye and a red streak in her hair anyway. I was actually able to do what might have been decent flirting, which was mostly due to the fact that we both had friends in the class so it was really just group banter. One of my friends happened to be dating one of her friends (not the same people as the ones in the class), so I thought I had a chance. She already had a boyfriend who wore the same pants as her though, so nothing happened.

                I also did some good (for me) flirting with a girl in my gym class (I consider ironic trash talk and cocky behavior while playing sports to be flirting, even if it's never got a very positive response from girls). I blew any shot that I probably didn’t had with two smooth moves. First, I nearly hit her in the face while spiking a volleyball and was then cocksure about it. She got mad, because you have to protect the moneymaker. Next, I hit her with a racial joke that I don’t think she appreciated.  While walking to the soccer fields someone said “What do soccer and Mexicans have in common?” (she was Mexican). I blurted “Neither one belongs in this country!”, which I still think was clever, but it was also not very sensitive. I followed my quip with an immediate Ohh… as I realize that I had just erred. Both of the previous two girls were sophomore, which I’m not proud of, but I needed every advantage that I could get.

These were my sweet wheels in high school, also my cousin shooting a shotgun

                Towards the end of senior year a girl told me that she would go to the prom with me, but at that point I didn’t really think that starting a relationship would be worth it, knowing the slow pace that I work at. Proms aren’t really my scene anyway. I was feeling a bit defeatist at this point. She was really nice though, and I would tease her about having a brain tumor because she got hiccupping fits. She also complimented me on my speech about digging holes that I gave in English class, which I appreciated. To be honest I just didn’t feel that she was smart enough for me, and I’m not certain if that is a legitimate reason to rebuff her.

                Thus high school came and went, yet my total virginity remained. Next time will take us through college and up to the present.

My History with Women - Part Two (Fail Harder)

 The failure continues. Now I’m in high school, and driving has led me to discovering a whole new world of independence. I had also discovered a new, nearly 100% effective, form of birth control… bad facial hair. The summer before junior year (nothing to report for sophomore year) I found out that I could grow a goatee and mustache without needing to shave my cheeks or sideburns (it just grew in as a natural Van Dyke). I immediately stopped shaving because I thought this was stupendous (I still struggle with acknowledging how terrible of an idea this is). My poor grooming choices did fail to keep one girl from liking me, and this brings us to the most advanced romantic experience of my life.

Don't let the beautiful Alaskan scenery fool you, that beard was terrible

It all started in the lunch room, which would be the key location of our whole relationship. One day while heading back to class I was stopped by a girl. This would easily be enough to make me nervous but this girl really threw me off. She was what I will describe as Hard; an open lesbian, and a punk (spiked dog collar, buzzed hair, authority problems), so I figured that I was about to get punched in the throat. Turns out she wasn’t trying to steal my lunch money, and she informed me that NAME REDACTED liked me and that I should ask her out. I was so startled that I failed to ask her to point this girl out, and left in a daze, desperately trying not to forget this name.

At this point in my life I had realized that I desperately needed some experience with dating. I pulled together all of my paltry resources to find out who this girl was. I caught a break when one of my friends who was working on the yearbook (on the nerdy computer end, not the cool pictures and surveys end) got a picture of her and was able to point her out. I found her attractive and I decided to go for it (I would have found any girl who I knew liked me attractive at this point). I tried something new this time and asked her out in person (it’s easy to be brave when you already know that she is interested).

Our first date was a movie. Her mom had to drive her there since it turned out she was young for her grade (a 15 year old sophomore), and couldn’t drive yet. We barely talked during the whole movie (she had an uncanny ability to answer every question in a way that prevented further conversation on the topic), and the date ended with a hug in front of her mom, so… a lot of progress actually. Other dates include roller skating (I got a blister the size of a golf ball), bowling (with just the two of us, so it was impossible to hold a decent conversation), eating Italian food (I hate Italian food), watching the Super Bowl (I don’t watch football), and religious events (I’m not a fan of organized religion). There were a few particularly awkward moments as well. After we had been dating for a while I had to specifically ask her to go out with me, because apparently dating and going out isn’t the same thing and she wasn’t officially my girlfriend yet. I was also threatened by one of her male friends if I ever hurt her feelings, but he did handstands while he roller skated, so I think I could have taken him. 

Why you gotta always use so much cheese Italians?

At one point, I remembered how we first met. I was walking out of the lunch room a few weeks before the previous mention, when a girl asked me what my name was. I fought the urge to panic as I realized that a girl was talking to me, and over-enunciated my name like a champion. She then asked me if I knew some guy (I forgot his name). I said that I didn’t, so she responded with “Oh, I thought you might since you have the same facial expressions.” That preposterous statement rendered me speechless, and I soon forgot about the occurrence (I also forgot her face, since I managed to avoid eye contact during that whole encounter).

Trouble started in the relationship when she and her friends started mixing with my friends. If I hadn’t been intoxicated by the fact that girls were finally paying attention to me I probably would have found them annoying as well (they were weird kids; a number of them were Wiccans, which I would later insensitively describe as devil worship to make the story more interesting). Her friends thought that they were now friends with my friends, which means that I was the only person ever to bring girls to our lunch table, or fans to our basketball games (I think the main similarity between my friends were their lack of contact with females), but there were some complaints. I had some newly acquired female friends (second degree friends really, but I still thought my girl problems were coming to an end. SPOILER: They weren’t), and my girlfriend was being more forward than they were comfortable with (as in my parents are out of town, can I stay with you for five days).

It was time to break up (this was six weeks in). I had yet to kiss her (the hugging had become a terrible habit), and the peak of the relationship was some side boob I got when she fell into my arms while roller skating. It was a Friday when I decided I would break up with her, but I would only do it face to face, so that meant waiting until I saw her Monday at school. I couldn’t stand to talk to her and pretend everything was okay, so I stopped answering her calls (smooth). She called somewhere in the ballpark of 25 times over the weekend, and this was on a home phone, since I refused to own a cell phone (in case the beard wasn’t enough of a deterrent). After weathering that storm, I met her in the lunch room (naturally) on Monday morning. It turns out that breaking up is one thing that I can do with aplomb. I laid down how I felt and what I wanted and stayed firm. I also finally took the opportunity to check out her missing tooth that she had from when a horse kicker her (it was behind the Canine so you had to look for it).

I found out after we broke up that she was bisexual, so if I was the kind of guy who was into threesomes I might feel like I had missed out (I always thought that she was joking when she said she would go gay for Hilary Duff). She was also a cheerleader (which was uncool at my school), so I can say that I dated a bisexual cheerleader in high school, which sounds fairly interesting out of context. All told, I ended up with some good experience, and she was actually a very nice girl even if this story is biased against her.

I think Hilary Duff and I look pretty similar actually

Next post will tell the tale of the rest of my high school tomfoolery.

My History with Women - Part One (A Pattern Forms)

This is the comprehensive history or all my romantic interactions with the opposite sex. I will tell you right now that things don’t really go well, but I would rather receive laughter than concern about it. I built this house and I have to live in it, and to be honest I am actually still proud of it (this sort of failure doesn't come easy). The names have been left out to save these poor girls any more embarrassment from being associated with me.

                We will start from the beginning. In Kindergarten and the next few years, my core group of friends was made up of two boys and two girls. My favorite of the two was a sweet little petite girl (this is likely why I am still attracted to petite girls to this day). The only real activities that I can remember are recess soccer, chicken fighting, and pee wee baseball. She wasn’t really athletic or anything, but she was always cheerful, and that just made her fun to be around. Sadly she switched elementary schools in 3^rd grade, and we lost touch after that.

Your looking at the catcher for the Eagles, Pee Wee Champions

                 The first time I was ever asked out was at some point in second grade. A third grade girl asked me if I wanted to be her boyfriend during recess one day. This was done with the classic method of a note and circling yes or no. I may have missing a lot of romantic experiences, but I totally got this one. I didn’t know this girl so I flipped out and declined her offer. I had an inexplicable girl phobia at this age that I am probably still dealing with the remnants of to this day. She seemed kind of odd anyway, so no regrets here.

                At another point during second grade a girl in my class asked me over to her house on what I will call a play date. I was skeptical because it didn’t sound like it would be very fun, but my mother though it was a good idea that I get some social experience with girls, so she rightfully and underappreciatedly pushed me into going. I can’t remember what we actually did, but I do remember finding it quite boring (Nintendo, Lego, and Capture the Flag were my main interests at the time). I also realized that she had quasi-romantic feelings for me so I broke that relationship like a karate master breaking boards. I was apparently attractive at that age.

The ladies love a bowl cut

                I also had an ambiguous relationship with a Russian girl in my class. She didn’t really talk much, but she did like tackle me and pull my pants down. I’m not exactly sure whether she was flirting with me or just bullying me. She scared the crap out of me either way.

                Fifth grade is when I became part of a real social structure. My group of boys happened to have a corresponding group of girls, so I had that going for me. The main interactions between the groups were prank exchanges, secret codes, and one sided basketball games, but there was also some coupling between the groups. I wasn’t the ladies’ man of the group (the farthest from it actually), but at least I had something to work with. Major events include a ski trip where one of the girls (the outgoing one) had a crush on me for what I only remember being that day. This basically meant that she followed me around all day and took every opportunity to fall on me that she could get. There was also a D.A.R.E. roller skating event (during which I played Kings Corners and never put on a pair of skates), during which my friends had the idea that we should all ask a girl out. I didn’t have any aspirations (at least that I was willing to admit), so my friends took it upon themselves to pick and ask a girl for me. They chose the “sporty one,” and to my chagrin, she said yes. I panicked and told her that I wasn’t actually interested (like a jerk), but that was technically my first girlfriend.

Here is me learning all the sweet skiing skills that I would later use to impress the chicks

                The girl that I had a crush on was the over achiever of the group. Interplay included her teasing me about always failing the preliminary spelling tests, and the one time she failed I passed, so I teased her ten times as hard. I gave her the nickname Skunky, because she had a wisp of light colored bangs in her dark hair (I had nicknames for all or the girls actually, but hers was the only one I ever really used). Other than that I tried to hide my feelings for her, since I believe that if you want to get a girl to like you, you should completely ignore her. This method continues not to work to this day.

                In sixth grade my family moved towns, undoing all of the zero progress I had made with the ladies (actually a clean slate might have been a more favorable position). I did start out with a bit of a reputation as a weird kid though, because I was new, came from a middle school (I had to go back to elementary school, which was LAME), and I wrote in cursive all the time. One memorable occurrence was when one girl started making out with everyone after her boyfriend moved to Australia (she promised to wait!), and I was rumored to be one of her make out victims. I wasn’t of course, but whenever questioned about it, I would never confirm or deny the rumor (not correcting peoples incorrect assumptions if it suits me is something I do from time to time, and I don’t know if it is lying or not). At another point that year, I was informed that the girl who read books every spare moment had a crush on me. I thought I was too good for her (I wasn’t), and never did anything about it. I also threw up at the Christmas Recital. That’s not really related to anything romantic, it was just a good memory.

                In Junior High, I really came into my own at sucking with women. I had my fair share of crushes and more than my share of making no moves. I did tease one girl that I liked by calling her albino (she was very fair hairs and skinned), but I got in trouble for it by a teacher so I stopped (the next year a teacher was calling her albino, so I think the social studies teachers had some sort of sinister joke stealing racket going on). I also teased a different girl I liked for not being as good with computers as me, and she told me I had a head shaped like a dinosaur egg, so that was fun. I wasn’t very popular in Junior High, in case you couldn’t guess. I remember some girls being really surprised that I was a starter on the football team once, because I was a pretty big nerd. One of my math teachers used to seat me next to only girls on purpose to try to help me out. I don’t think girls are attracted to guys who are good at math unfortunately.

On the last day of ninth grade I decided that it was finally time to make a move. My current crush was on the “Queen of the Nerds.” She was the undisputed hottest smart girl in our grade. I fell for her during an archery class in gym when she asked me to help her put on her arm bracer. It went a lot better than my last attempt to touch a girl (she asked me for a quarter, and I got so nervous that I dropped it short of her hand and then ran away), so I believed that I was in (I had no idea what league I was in). So, it was the last day and everyone was gathered in the lunch room signing yearbooks and what not. It was now or never, so I girded my loins... and had a friend ask her out for me (wow past me, just WOW). She declined obviously (she said she didn’t know me well enough, which isn’t surprising since I was afraid to speak to her), and thus ended Junior High.

                We will see you next time for the story or an actual girlfriend.