I'm Tired Of It.

Don't think I don't notice how much I talk about myself. Whether it's preaching about dreams or sharing my tale of asking a girl out through Facebook, I'm completely aware of how pathetically self-absorbed I am. Sometimes I read through my tweets and sigh at all the I's I come across. And most of them are self-deprecating. If I think I'm so goddamn terrible then why do I keep thinking about myself and sharing my pathetic personal experiences with you people? I guess it's because I have nothing else to talk about.

What is the opposite of a God complex? I think I have that.

So let's stop wasting time and let's talk about me.

Over the weekend I spent a lot of time thinking about how much easier it would be to be good-looking. And don't think I'm sitting here with my head in my hands feeling sorry for myself because of my pathetic penis and my height (that was yesterday). I mean, life is actually easier for people who are good-looking.

Good-looking person's schedule:

• 12pm: Wake up. (Waking up in the AM is for ugly people that have to have jobs to get money.)
• 12:01pm-Whenever the party ends. (Get treated like royalty, people go out of their way to help you, laugh at your jokes even when you haven't told one, and give you free desserts, toys, money, and blowjobs.)

The rest of us have to work really hard at our jobs to get ahead and be taken seriously. When we're done with our miserable jobs, where we spend all day bending over backwards for the lookers, we go home every night and self-improve. We have to take piano lessons, or we have to plan trips so we can backpack across a foreign land, or we have to read books, or we have to try to learn a new language, or we have to learn how to cook well. If we're not doing that, then we spend our time catering to good-looking people just so we can be around them and torture ourselves with aspirations of having their amazing lives. It never ends. And although many of these things can be enriching and a great deal of fun, they take up so much goddamn time.

Yes, that is what I am concerned about.

I'm not depressed about not being good-looking because I give a shit about my looks, but because I'm fucking lazy. I would like to come home and not do shit. Why can't I come home and sit in front of the TV and watch Seinfeld reruns? Why can't I just not own books? Why can't I just sit back and listen to a conversation at a dinner party and still come out on top, instead of constantly having to ask questions I don't really care to know the answers to? Why do I have to balance what I say to make sure I sound interesting but not sound like a Know-It-All? Why can't I have 0 hobbies and interests but know there is a pretty gosh darn good blowjob waiting for me just around the corner? Why do I have to do anything? Why is being not good-looking so much goddamn work? 

I met this lady at the dog park a few weeks ago. Over several different conversations on several different days I became more and more attracted to her. I think it's because she is incredible looking and she is completely weird. Those seem to be the two things I really care about. Is that shallow? See, since I'm not good-looking I have to worry about petty shit like sounding shallow. Anyways, after a few very different conversations, I found myself wondering what my life would be like with a woman like her. Then I realized I didn't really know much about her. So I had to ask a ton of questions. And eventually made it a point ask her her name. She told me. I went home and Googled her name and two other tidbits of information she shared with me in previous conversations, where she went to college and what she did for a living.

My creepy search formula = Name + College + Job

And let me point out, it was only her first name. Google is amazing. The second link was her. It was a Wikipedia article. I decided to not read it because I didn't want to ruin the fantasy. So I just looked at her picture (yep). Would we get along? Where would we go on vacations? Would the weirdness get annoying? Would I ever even have a chance with a woman that looked like her? Would it be different if I was good-looking (which is one (of two) of the real reasons I'm writing this)? And then I realized I was wasting my time because I was ignoring the most important question: Does she have a boyfriend? So I read her Wikipedia page (which was obviously written by her) and I got my answer. She does. And he's in a famous band.

Look at that. Really look at it. Being good-looking in this case probably wouldn't have changed the outcome of this. But since I'm not good-looking I have to constantly look for ways to distract myself from my terribly mediocre life. I had to make sure to get to that specific dog park at a certain time, I had to approach her in a way that wasn't overwhelming, I had to say pleasant things about her dog, I had to give an overly dramatic story about the rescued dog I was walking, I had to figure out what she did for a living, I had to ask her how she got into that, I had to ask her about her background, I had to figure out her name, I had to ask the right questions, I had to pay attention to her answers, on and on and on. I had to create and dwell on this entire fantasy that I constructed over weeks. WEEKS! 

Then I did what needed to be done. I clicked on a picture of her boyfriend and realized he wasn't really all that good-looking. He was just good at the guitar and touring with a famous band. She was the one getting away with being good-looking. She was skating by in our conversations because she didn't need to fill her good-looking head with ridiculous plots and fantasies. She had it easy, but what did that have to do with me?

I'm tired from all of the fantasizing about this and that. I'm tired of thinking myself in circles. So I guess I'm right where I started. Exhausted. Exhausted from wasting so much mental energy on wondering what it would be like to be good-looking.

I'm lazy, but I have so much self-improvement left to do. Maybe I'll start with some guitar lessons.