September 2010

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Well not really.  But sort of.  One is by way of marriage.  The other is really my cousin.  But since my mother and aunt are twins, we are 50% genetically identical.  Ie: half brother.

The half one is coming to town tomorrow and wishes to see me.  I am told that he looks exactly like me, except blonde.  And 17.  We both rock out to heavy metal.

I kind of want to write about my relationships with my crazy extended family, but before I do that I need to make a mental note to myself to remove my blog link from my facebook page so my one cousin doesn’t see my post about my other cousin.  Not that I’d be afraid to discuss this with her.

I’m really nervous about this cousin thing.  For reasons that have less to do with the cousin than with the aunt and uncle (and another cousin).  Having crazy family explains a lot about me, and it’s not something I generally share with people.  I joke about it, but distantly.  I do that hiding in plain site thing, where I joke about my crazy family, but don’t fill in any of the details.  So people are all like, “Psh, yeah, my folks are nuts too.”

Trust me, they’re not.  Your folks are annoying.  Mine are fucking crazy.  Mine will fuck your shit up with a boxcutter.  Tomorrow I get to see the one who I might have more in common with than any of the others.  But I don’t know where he, you know… is right now.  If you have crazy family, then the italics in that line should make good sense.

It’s funny:  one of my favorite shows is Arrested Development.  Yet it’s a show that I’ve never watched to completion.  Too close to home.  I often think to myself lately that I’m the Michael Bluth of my family.  It’s easy to feel like that I guess.  Which is why the show’s so popular.  Well… so sub-popular.

But with my folks it ain’t no joke.  Part of the stress of settling down in this house this year hasn’t been just working myself to death and being broke, but it’s also been the creeping sensation that I’ve boxed myself in.  That these fuckers are coming for me.  Perhaps I should have run for the hills.  Perhaps I should have paid off all my debts and applied for any federal job overseas that I could find.  Instead I did a thing that made sense.  Tomorrow I might get some of that sense licked into me.

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Or lack thereof I should probably say. I’m kinda wishing right now that I’d set myself up a hot date or two for the weekend, but no, the only hot date I have is with my house. There’s more work to be done.

It’s been sort of a weird time lately. Like seriously everyone I know seems to be coupled up right now, except for myself. Of course there’s my friends in long term relationships and the ones who are engaged, but I mean even those folks I know who are almost hopelessly single are coupled up. So like now, I’m that guy. I’m the hopelessly single guy. What the fuck? How did I end up picked last in gym class?

Truth is, it’s been kind of rough lately. I made sort of a concious decision to take a break from dating when I underwent the home buying process. I knew I was just gonna be too busy and too stressed. And I was right. The last thing I want to do is a) bore a lady to death with tales from Home Depot, and b) be too tired to pay her any attention. It’s only a couple months, I knew I’d live.

But then there’s been the family drama (which I still would like to post about–maybe later today). Going through a family crisis is not really a fun thing for the single person. It’s times like those when more than anything it would be good to have someone there for you to help keep it together. But it’s probably the worst time in the world to meet someone new.

Like imagine that first date… the scene is set, the music is low, the wine is flowing. “So,” she asks, “how was your week?”

“Well, one of my closest family members snapped, and we had to put her up in a hospital. I spent 12 hours in an emergency room and saw and heard things that I will never forget. Uh… how about you?”

Yeah. It’s not a pretty picture.

But that’s all cooling down. The parents have stepped in, and the family crisis torch has been passed from me to them. I guess I have permission to start living my life again?

So we’ll have to see about that. I was having a conversation with a friend of mine who’s a fellow INFJ, and apparently singledom is just a thing for us. We were high fiving each other about it, actually. I guess we’d prefer to call it “stridently independant” as opposed to single. I think I’d also say that we’re stubborn and idealistic. So we stay single, and then when we do fall for someone, we fall pretty hard. It can be a bad scene.

But I think this fall is going to be pretty good. I’m feeling optimistic, and I want to chase that feeling.  Hell, maybe this weekend will be good.  After all, summer ain’t over yet.

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