Self-proclaimed Nice Guys
Jun. 30th, 2009 02:22 pmGuess what? Being a nice guy is like being a lady. If you feel the need to say you are, then you are not.
http://www.heartless-bitches.com/rants/niceguys/niceguys.shtml
Edit for clarity:
Direct from the blog:
"You don't have to be an ego-inflated, arrogant jerk. You just have to LIKE yourself. You have to know what you want out of life, and go after it. Only then will you be attractive to the kind of woman with whom a long-term relationship is possible."
The point is, there is a big difference between being a nice guy and being a Nice Guy. Nice Guys aren't nice at all. Saying you're nice isn't enough to make you nice.
http://www.heartless-bitches.com/rants/niceguys/niceguys.shtml
Edit for clarity:
Direct from the blog:
"You don't have to be an ego-inflated, arrogant jerk. You just have to LIKE yourself. You have to know what you want out of life, and go after it. Only then will you be attractive to the kind of woman with whom a long-term relationship is possible."
The point is, there is a big difference between being a nice guy and being a Nice Guy. Nice Guys aren't nice at all. Saying you're nice isn't enough to make you nice.
Jay brought me a space heater.
I haven't been turning my heat up...in my drafty, drafty apartment. So most days, I've been too cold to do anything except curl up under a blanket or get the hell out. The last gas bill was $268. I only pay half of that, but still. Insane for an apartment.
But now I can put the space heater in any room I'm in, and be warm enough to get things done.
It's the little things.
( My little heater that could )
I haven't been turning my heat up...in my drafty, drafty apartment. So most days, I've been too cold to do anything except curl up under a blanket or get the hell out. The last gas bill was $268. I only pay half of that, but still. Insane for an apartment.
But now I can put the space heater in any room I'm in, and be warm enough to get things done.
It's the little things.
( My little heater that could )
Not surprisingly
Jan. 11th, 2004 04:32 amThe brush with romance is totally on the back burner, were it ever anywhere else. Not that that's so horrible. He and I are marvelous friends who had a good moment. Oddly enough, it has only strengthened our friendship. Even more oddly, it had nothing to do with the breakup. That was just a matter of my soul surviving. There are a whole lot of bitter, nasty, vicious people who might see my journal. It would be a crime if "Heath" were punished for our momentary lapse of decorum. It was never love. It was a wild, heady crush--something like the first few moments of being high. It left me able to tolerate "Chris" far longer than I could have otherwise. A kindness to Chris; a cruelty to me.
I am now unable to fall asleep unless I'm completely exhausted. Thursday night, I talked with Poogle till that struck. Friday night, with Chrispy. Tonight, there's no one, but I've got to get up at 9. My brother is being ordained a deacon, and by some insanity I've decided to show up and visit. I just hope no one asks me how I am. "Terrible, thanks, but it's Robert's day, not mine." No other way to see my niece, though.
Amazing how small everything that has gone before in my life seems now. I stand on the brink of disaster, and all I can count on is luck. My friends say "I don't want to take sides." Best of luck, my dears. Fred'll try and make you. He said, "You have a history of thinking your exes are insane." Well, yes, the last two. Fred tried to force me to stab him with an 18-inch dagger, and DJ said he wanted to run me over with his car. Sounds crazy to me! The others, and there are a fair number, all were quiet things. There will be no more for a long time. Till July 31, 2004. Julie says I should drop sex altogether. It sounded ludicrous to me at first, but from certain points of view it's just another stress factor. Best not to seek it, I suppose, although what I'll do if it finds me I don't know anymore. After the HPV scare, I'm not exactly looking forward to conquering new territory. And the old ones have...well...grown old.
I must be getting a little better. My thoughts are wandering, which they haven't since Friday afternoon when I got the news that Fred was coming back. Although rage is still always quite near the surface, it's nice that I can skim along for a short while at least.
The thing to do now is to hope I can phonepay my storage unit once daylight hits. I'll be canceling storage on the 31st and the bastard can have the lock and key. I never should have bailed him out. Never should have taken him in. Never should have loved him. Love has a habit of making me sick. I'll be glad to be quit of it for a while, and grateful to any friends who stop me should I seem to be falling in. "One day at a time," my father says. But his demon was alcohol, not love. I've managed to avoid it for 23 years, but now at last I have to learn to love myself. Best of luck to me!
Platypus
I am now unable to fall asleep unless I'm completely exhausted. Thursday night, I talked with Poogle till that struck. Friday night, with Chrispy. Tonight, there's no one, but I've got to get up at 9. My brother is being ordained a deacon, and by some insanity I've decided to show up and visit. I just hope no one asks me how I am. "Terrible, thanks, but it's Robert's day, not mine." No other way to see my niece, though.
Amazing how small everything that has gone before in my life seems now. I stand on the brink of disaster, and all I can count on is luck. My friends say "I don't want to take sides." Best of luck, my dears. Fred'll try and make you. He said, "You have a history of thinking your exes are insane." Well, yes, the last two. Fred tried to force me to stab him with an 18-inch dagger, and DJ said he wanted to run me over with his car. Sounds crazy to me! The others, and there are a fair number, all were quiet things. There will be no more for a long time. Till July 31, 2004. Julie says I should drop sex altogether. It sounded ludicrous to me at first, but from certain points of view it's just another stress factor. Best not to seek it, I suppose, although what I'll do if it finds me I don't know anymore. After the HPV scare, I'm not exactly looking forward to conquering new territory. And the old ones have...well...grown old.
I must be getting a little better. My thoughts are wandering, which they haven't since Friday afternoon when I got the news that Fred was coming back. Although rage is still always quite near the surface, it's nice that I can skim along for a short while at least.
The thing to do now is to hope I can phonepay my storage unit once daylight hits. I'll be canceling storage on the 31st and the bastard can have the lock and key. I never should have bailed him out. Never should have taken him in. Never should have loved him. Love has a habit of making me sick. I'll be glad to be quit of it for a while, and grateful to any friends who stop me should I seem to be falling in. "One day at a time," my father says. But his demon was alcohol, not love. I've managed to avoid it for 23 years, but now at last I have to learn to love myself. Best of luck to me!
Platypus
