Suddenly Single Journey

On the menu of life…

Author: thenicknick

I’ll have a side of ‘I told you so’ hold the lecture.

Yeah, this year I have been chalking up learning experiences left and right.  I mean, which  learning experience do I pick from?  The divorce was finalized this year which means that maybe I’m not so good at marriage.  Nah.  It’s not that.  I’ll just look for someone I’m more suited to next time.  And then there was my failed relationship with Sam.  Did I say I’d look for someone I was more suited to next time?  I meant next next time.  Or from now on.  Or…well, we’ll see.

And then there was the whole renters morphing into squatters episode that marred the better part of my summer and the early part of my fall.  But by far, the best learning experience was the one that I had most recently, the one I was dealing with right up until yesterday.  The reason I was too distracted to post anything more than videos.  And apparently people noticed.  Okay, my mom noticed.  I’m not sure about the rest of the world.

Without going into a lot of gory details…because then it will be a huge spoiler for the made for TV movie my life has become…I went against my better judgment and gave out my address.  It seemed like a benign request from a blog fan who wanted to mail me a Christmas card.  And in my defense, it’s not like I just gave out my address all devil may care.  No, I contemplated and after a long drawn out discussion reluctantly relinquished my address.  (Stop it.  I can hear you.  I specifically said ‘hold the lecture.’  No one has been tougher on me than I have…maybe with the exception of Laura.  Love you, Laura!)

Anyway, the address was given out almost a month ago.  And then on Monday, I had a text from the fan that there was a package for me on my back patio.  *gasp*  Immediately, I felt utterly violated.  There were a lot of texts exchanged with friends, a few lectures, several emails and then I headed home, more than a little shaken…not stirred.  (See, Kimberly, I had to use that line somewhere!)  Oh, and Kimberly met me at the apartment because she didn’t want me to blow up alone.  (Sign of a true friend, right?)

No bomb, but a ton of chocolate.  That I will never touched.  Suffice it to say, I stayed at Kimberly’s Monday night, which prompted a realization that might have been funny if it were not so true.

me: I own a house.  I’m renting an apartment.  I have more real estate than half of Charlotte and somehow I’m still homeless!

My locks were changed Tuesday…because there was a key hidden outside (past tense…as in never again…nice learning curve, huh?)  And if I had no guarantee that it hadn’t been discovered and copied…well, new locks!  It cost me $25.  (And I didn’t think that checks would come in handy?  Ha!)  It seemed a small price to pay for my life.

Tuesday saw another flurry of emails and texts and I tried to measure the danger.  I mean should the alert be on yellow, red, what?  And I finally felt as though I had achieved a solution and safety.  (Again, I’m not going into the gory details.  How else will I get you to fork over the money for my exciting memoirs?  Everyone knows you don’t pay for the cow if you can get the milk for free.  And no, I don’t have a book deal, but dammit, I should!)

So, I’ve looked at the dilemmas I’ve faced.  Aside from the obvious commonality, which is me, they all point back to what some are now considering a character flaw.  I’m too trusting.  I’m too nice.  (Trust me, I’m not always too nice.)  My mother, the cynic to my optimist, wondered how I could possibly have trusted someone I barely knew.  And it points back to something J once said to me.

J: You think that everyone is like you, that everyone tells the truth and says what they mean and follows through.  People aren’t like that!

Talking to my mom yesterday had her pointing out to me that I’m 37.  (Because otherwise I wouldn’t know…)  And I guess when she says it like that, it means I’m supposed to be different by now, have outgrown some of the characteristics that make me inherently me.  But I don’t want to be cynical and jaded.  On the other hand, I don’t want to be naive and gullible either.  I guess I need to strive for a balance, somewhere between optimist and pessimist, but perkier than a realist.  Is there an optimalist?  Because I think that’s what I am.

See, I don’t want to face people warily, keep them always at arm’s length.  I know that not everyone tells the truth, which is different than House’s supposition that everyone lies.  I just believe that people have it in them to be better than they are, since I constantly strive to be better than I am.  So maybe an optimalist is one who looks for the best in others and gives the best he or she has.  I love making up words.  Eat that, Oxford English Dictionary.  One day…  (That’s a dream book Rachel and I aspire to own.  So if you want to drop that on my patio…call me!  Just kidding, Mom.  Man, she just can’t take a joke!)

And I don’t think there is anything wrong with being an optimalist.  I like being optimalistic.  It’s my beacon of hope.  I just need to learn to temper it, be smarter about it.  So, no, you can’t have my mailing address.  I’m getting a PO Box.  (You only think it stands for post office.  Right now, to me, it means something else.  It’s a reminder that I can’t just trust anyone to do the right thing, that people can’t be trusted to know they are crossing a line, that even though they may have had the best of intentions, it can be received badly.)  I’m learning, one painful sometimes frightening always disheartening experience at a time.

PS. Why this?  Why today…on Christmas Eve when I should be posting about sweet happy holiday stuff?  Gwen Bell Challenge 2009.  Enough said.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 24th, 2009 at 5:58 am and is filed under Blog Challenge. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.