Go On, Do It

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

It is not right to say I was overprotected as a child. At least, not if you count the many things I got up to that I shouldn’t have, including exploring tunnels in the woods and walking alone from the city through areas that were less than safe, and such.

However my life was relatively controlled and um… predictable? Look, women of my generation in Portugal didn’t have a lot of options. If I didn’t marry — oh, I could talk about how well I “read the signs” with Portuguese men. TBF I don’t read them well with anyone, but it seems worse with Portuguese men — I would live with my parents my whole life, and probably end up teaching in either high school or college. I could see the vast panorama of the next 80 years or so unfolding before me, by the time I was 18. And it was all predictable.

So, one day when I was sixteen I saw a poster. All it showed was a woman coming out of a suitcase and it said, “Come out of your shell” and had a phone number. (The woman might have been coming out of an egg carrying a suitcase. look, It’s been over 40 years, what do I know?) It was in the least used entrance of my high school, by the exit to the gym. During summer. Someone just put it on a cork board.

Now, the parent I now am flinches at this, because I can imagine a dozen schemes that would be wrong and dangerous, from that poster. But I was 16 and curious. And I only saw the poster at all because a bunch of friends came in during summer to play a friendly game of badminton in the gym, then everyone needed to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t. Like so many things in my life, it started because “I was bored.”

So I called the number. They told me they were an exchange student organization, and did I want the forms to apply? This is fairly insane, because I’d never even gone to camp in summer, but– they pushed. So I said sure, and gave my friends’ address because why freak out the parents?

When the forms came I was just going to throw them away. But the problem was — I’ve mentioned this right? — I could see my entire life unfolding in front of me, and…

And it wasn’t living. Not really. So I told myself I’d do something exciting, ONCE. Something to remember the rest of my life. I applied. Which is how (And there are a lot of stories in this) I ended up being an exchange student to Ohio. Where I met the Mathematician. And then…. well, things changed.

The way I look at it, my life was on path of high probability and I didn’t like that path of high probability. I’ll be honest, it might have fit someone else just fine. In fact, it probably would fit most people just fine. But I knew I’d never marry, and though I loved my parents and I had friends, I had a sense of unending loneliness on that track. Forever. I didn’t fit in Portugal very well, which is where the unending loneliness comes from. Being odd man out. Pretending to fit in. Forever.

So I stepped out fo the track, out of my comfort zone, took a step into the unknown. And here we are.

Better or worse? Only G-d knows, and He might be scratching His head. But different. Very different. And unpredictable, and — in my opinion and having lived it — it’s been a good life and very not a lonely one, because I got the Mathematician. And the kids. And a lot of you.

And though I remain an Odd who will never fit anywhere? I fit better here.

So, why am I telling you all this? Today I ran across this piece of advice. Here, let me show you a screen shot:

She’s not wrong you know? I mean, we can quibble on the details, and as people have pointed out,t he most important thing is to ask. Women don’t. So you have to. But yes, having something special about you helps. I mean, look, most of you can’t help it, but you might not be showing it, because odd protective coloration is to hide the weird.

Believe it or not in the comments there is a guy arguing that he’s just average. There’s nothing special about him. And that women used to go for the average guy and now they don’t.

I pointed out this was not true. My dad, in the forties, wrote letters for his friends to impress their would-be girlfriends with beautiful language (caused a lot of marriages that way.) And I know of people who painted beautiful things for people, and–

It was always about having “a thing” about sticking out. Having something you’re good at or passionate about. (And no, don’t talk her ear off about Spiderman. Unless you first establish she’s ALSO a Spiderman geek. Yes, sense. But there are female Spiderman — or whatever — geeks, and if you find out she’s one, let her know you’re one too. That’s glorious.) And not being afraid to show it.

The poor kid — he revealed he was 30 — came back and told me no, it was much easier before cell phones and–

Sure, writing letters won’t get you there (Or it might, who knows? It’s quaint enough now. Like in my day, a guy could get way ahead in Portugal by singing a serenade under his lady’s window, even though that was way outdated.) But there are new ways for tech.

And there are cons, and hobby classes and classes on whatever you’re really passionate about in your community college. And unless your main hobby in life is “Dick, having one” and you’re interested in girls, in which case going to a class for your hobby won’t help, you can find one through your interests. Okay, so it might be your secondary or tertiary interest. Like, if your local gaming or comics community is wall to wall leftists, consider signing up for, I don’t know, a car maintenance class at your community college (The sort where they teach you to change a tire, not the really involved ones. Those beginner ones often have women.) Or take up ham radio. Or go to a history club.

The point is poke around in enough places that you have a chance.

And sometimes do something you’d never ever do, like answer a stupid poster and consider going out as an exchange student. (I really can’t describe how far out of my comfort zone that was. I think my family is still in shock over it all these years later.)

Because if you’re lonely or don’t like where you are in life, sure: It probably isn’t your fault.

I have spoken — at length — about the problems with both the dating and the job market in the current day and age. And I don’t hold it against any young person who is unhappy and struggling.

However, even if it will be harder than it was even for my generation, the solution remains the same. As grandma would put it “If you’re not happy, put yourself in the way of happiness.”

Which means stepping out of the way you’re on.

It might take asking a lot more women out. (Apparently men get a lot of yeses by getting a lot of nos on the way there.) It might take applying to a lot of places, sometimes crazy places.

And, hey, I know: You’ll get rejections and that hurts and sucks. You’re not giving me any news. I spent 13 years getting rejections for my writing before my first acceptance. There was the day that 60 rejections came back all at once. It was my birthday too. Did it hurt? Oh, heck yeah. But you know… I continued (I don’t know. I probably have brain damage, okay?) and eventually there was an acceptance, and a little further on, it was all acceptances.

… and if you never get acceptances? Well, at least you tried. Sometimes that’s all you can do: try.

But if you’re going to try? Really try. I mean, you know the concept of “Fight like a cornered cat”? Well, try like a cornered cat. Try all avenues, even the seemingly impossible or strange ones: Take courses. go out and meet people. Talk to people you’d not normally talk to. Take up a new hobby. Go visit that church down the block. Take walks. Consider going abroad as a volunteer for some cause you believe in. Get that degree. Learn that foreign language. Take a fascinating detour into competition tiddly winks.

Try like you mean it.

If you’re not happy with your life, shake out of it. Test other avenues. Try a new life.

Ultimately, life is all you got. You got this life, this unknown span of days. Sure you can spend it hiding in your corner and simply surviving.

But what’s the fun in that? Get out there, take damage points, max your stats, level up.

Make something of yourself and the time you have.

Will it be better? Only G-d knows, and He’s not answering surveys.

But chances are you’ll enjoy it more. Go.

87 thoughts on “Go On, Do It”

  1. A couple quick thoughts on this one…

    Write letters…or something. My wife and I took a sailing trip (schooner, the Stephen Taber out of Rockport, Maine, and that’s a whole ‘nother story right there). One of the crew was a young (late 20s, younger than our kids) woman named Maria. As a gift to the crew I wrote them all personal limericks. Each of the crew got a kick out of “my limerick” but Maria was really moved, Even a stinking limerick can melt the heart of another person, and like I said, the male crew members all had fun with theirs, too.

    Maria also did the “ste out of your lane”. She was working a corporate life in a communications department (in Colorado) and decided that this was not for her, so one night she started looking for something different. At 2 AM she saw the Taber was looking for a crew member, she sent a letter, got a phone call the next day and started the end of the month. Sailing experience? None. Enthusiasm for life? Plenty. It showed (was I thinking she would be a great DIL? ummmm…maybe).

    Mu own youngest several years ago, when he was 25, decided he was going to bicycle and watercolor his way across the US of A. Had he ever ridden a bike more than 10 miles? Nope. As he said, if I don’t do this when I’m 25, I’ll never do it. He did it – Yorktown Virginia to San Francisco California, took about 3 months. Break out.

    Now only if I could get the crewmate and the youngest introduced…

    Liked by 4 people

  2. Thanks. I, in fact, met my beloved wife because I took a ceramics class. Sometimes, I tell kids to be nice to their sibling because that’s how I met my wife—making a ceramic Christmas tree for my sister after the one she’d ordered never showed up.

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  3. Hubby and I were in the same sub-group* that hung out and did “volunteer work”, together regularly. We never had the same classes. One time he needed a plus one for an event at his work. Then we went on a date, another one, then we got engaged. Was I looking for a husband? (Laughs) No. (Now were certain other pairs in the group throwing us together, regularly? Yes.)

    (*) Forestry club. Volunteer work was woodcuts to fund club activities, which did include the local forest education, including a large one in the spring, spring “thaw” (forestry games and dance), and some music events at the forest cabin (yes, beer was present).

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  5. “It was easier before cell phones.” HAHAHAHAHA…No. I didn’t own a cell phone before I met the woman who would become my wife. (She sold me my first cell phone, FWIW.)

    I will admit to having met my wife on a very early Internet dating site for people of a certain ethnicity. But we were both in our 40’s by then.

    The 40 years before that I’d rather not discuss.

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    1. We got our first cell phone 1990. Reason? I was on the road overnight for work. Just a couple times a month. Thing is, at least one route there still isn’t cell service, between I-5 and hwy 101. The other route, no problem (I-5). Hubby would take it when he was out of town. Hubby and son didn’t get one until for reasons, all 3 of us needed a cell phone. It was cheaper than a second landline that wasn’t available when hubby’s base was in middle of Washington. Plus son then needed ability to call for rides. Wasn’t much longer that the house landline went away. None of us had smartphones until early ’10s. In fact mom had a smartphone before we did.

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  6. That’s how Em and I met. She was part of a Bujold group on line, and I went monthly to a filksing in Atlanta where another member was, and Jerrie and I were at DragonCon (in Leslie Fish’s concert, as it happens). She asked me if I was going to Worldcon in Chicago (DC was July, WC Labor Day), and I said I hadn’t planned on it. She said, “why don’t you go, I know someone you might like.” So I thought about it, and why not? At worst, I’ll get to another con, and eat some good pizza…. and the filking should be good.

    So I went, and after I caught her at the bottom of the escalator (literally), our first “date” was Leslie’s Bardic circle. The rest, as they say, was history.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. OK, I’m not a ‘member’, so I can’t ‘like’. But, yeah, THAT sounds like a match made in heaven!!

      My second wife was sort of like that; our second ‘serious’ date was going to BaltiCon, with my kids. It was great while that lasted; I even went to a Lovecraft con, because she was into horror more than I was. Sadly, once the kids moved out, we sort of drifted apart. I mostly blame it on a specific interest she decided she needed to move out in order to pursue, but if she had stayed and we continued to stagnate, I don’t think it would have been much better. Why did it happen? Plenty of guesses, but no way to be sure. Still living and learning.

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  7. Why would someone want to “go for” a person that is utterly generic?

    That has literally nothing to recommend them beyond “is opposite”?

    Heck, you don’t even pick friends that way, and one expects to get a life mate?!?! Find your other half?

    “Average” is a statistical illusion that’s designed to avoid the unusual bits– but that’s what gives traction. K, so over all, you’re average. What do you like? What are you good at? What are you horrible at? (Admiring your other half is a good thing.)

    What do you hold in contempt?

    What do you truly value?

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    1. One of the saddest dates I ever went on was one where a girl ditched this guy, so he showed up and asked if I’d like to go to the event instead (at my brother’s urging). I said yes, but as we walked to the event, I tried to make conversation and soon discovered that he had no hobbies, no interests, and apparently nothing that he was remotely passionate about.

      Daunted, I asked why he’d chosen engineering as his major. “It’ll be a stable job where I can support a wife and kids,” he said.

      “But, like . . . are you interested in what you’re learning or the work you’ll eventually do?”

      “Not really.”

      For context, my brother got an engineering degree so he could learn what he needed to eventually build his own Iron Man suit, complete with Jarvis. His friends want to build nuclear reactors or create self-healing ships using fiber optic sensors or 3D print organs for transplant that use people’s own tissue. Cool stuff that might save the world one day. But no, this guy was just . . . existing.

      After the event, I tried to get him to dance with me. He shuffled awkwardly across the floor to one song, and then I gave up and went home. I’ve never met anyone so depressing before or since. I sincerely believe he could’ve benefited from therapy; if I’ve ever met someone who was clinically depressed, it was him.

      Liked by 3 people

      1. Ooof. Yeah.

        He was either massively depressed, or smashing down him so hard there was nothing left- which I’ve seen, from folks who are just so tired of being alone they don’t care if they’d have to keep doing that forever, just so long as they’re not alone.

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  8. Sure, writing letters won’t get you there (Or it might, who knows? It’s quaint enough now. Like in my day, a guy could get way ahead in Portugal by singing a serenade under his lady’s window, even though that was way outdated.) But there are new ways for tech.

    Mine drew me an avatar. (For the character he helped me make– but then, he helped everyone, that’s part of why I was comfortable enough to accept the help.)

    Liked by 3 people

  9. If someone in a spaceship stops by and offers you a lift, get on it. You may end up the main course for dinner, or you may end up the emperor of the galaxy; but it definitely won’t be boring!

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  10. It’s odd, but had just mentioned to my beloved that the way I got into training was I bypassed the organizational instructions and applied directly to the school. It was three months away from home, living in the D.C. area and it didn’t help my career…but I’m still glad I did it.

    And even gladder he got the brainstorm of, “Let’s buy a cheap trailer and go on the road for the summer! We’ll do volunteer work!” The cheap trailer got replaced and we’re still going.

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  11. My now-husband and I started dating after I called off my first wedding, realizing that THAT fiance, besides being in the closet and a domineering jackwagon, only wanted a green card and would make a wretched husband.

    I resigned myself to dying alone in a double-wide full of cats, with a big bowl of frosting on my lap, but evidently God and Actual Husband had other ideas. He and I started dating about six weeks after what would’ve been my wedding day and got married seven months later.

    His unique qualification: he loved me back when nobody else ever had or ever would. Something starved will remember the one who feeds it instead of kicking it. He liked that I was supposedly smart and funny, when those had always been handicaps before. (Women, no matter what men or other women may tell you: smart and funny are, by and large, not selling points in a woman. Or maybe it’s just that they weren’t, in me.) Sometimes a man’s heroic, distinguishing quality is seeing the possibilities in a fixer-upper.

    Liked by 4 people

    3. “…smart and funny are, by and large, not selling points in a woman.“

      Well my wife was certainly both–in spades! So, the only problem you may have had with others before your husband was their poor egos. I, on the other hand, have always had an overinflated view of both my smarts and my humor. In fact, Sharon humored me a lot, but my utter devotion to her won her over.

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        1. I see being funny as a gift from God.

          I also think about Spider Robinson’s comment that a lot of funny people are wrapped around a core of pain. Something he said before his life fell apart, and it makes me wonder.

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    4. smart and funny are, by and large, not selling points in a woman.

      Only to men with fragile egos. I like smart and funny. Not too long ago a cashier said something snarky to me, and I replied in kind. She said “I like a man who understands sarcasm.” I immediately responded “It’s my native language.” We both had a good laugh.

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      1. Hubby is very good at snark. I understand him. Me? I am not good with the verbal sarcasm.

        Written I can do. Somewhat. Sometimes. I’ve done it here on Sarah’s blogs. Most of you are a lot better at it than I am. I know better than to not mark it as sarcasm, JIC.

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    5. Smart and funny are a bloody important requirement for some men. Attraction is attention, but intelligence and wit are retention.

      Or, to put it another way, there will be many, many more grocery trips, laundry days, car rides, and dog tired cuddles on the couch than sex, even if the sex is damned good and often enough you need to get in better shape (was a long time ago, but I can still remember that).

      If you’re not friends with your spouse, that’s just damned sad to me . A friend to talk to, joke with, commiserate with. Someone to talk you down from your insanity (we’ve all got it there) and someone to drag your puddle of “meh” into reality that’s really not so bad, too. Someone that needs a good kick in the rear every now and again and someone who has a whole library of in-jokes and shared experience to build a life on.

      Or still another way, a compatible sort of crazy that evolves or metastasizes with you, so you at least have a frame of reference where you can point at the crazy that is the rest of the world, and your other half will nod sagely and say “then we nuke it from orbit, just to be sure.”

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ayup. We wouldn’t have made it through separations due to circumstances and three heart attacks and him losing two other organs along the way, much less the inanities and insanities of life, the indignities of age and infirmity, and the malice of inanimate objects, without a shared sense of humour.

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    6. Ya know what else the men apparently dislike? Women that can defend themselves. The number of times I’ve told men that I teach a self-defense class and watch the interest just fade from their eyes is actually kind of frightening. In fact, I’ve stopped telling casual acquaintances about that rather large chunk of my life, unless they specifically pry.

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          1. Those women’s self-“defense” classes may be barely better than nothing, unless they’re far worse.

            “If staying away from stupid places wasn’t enough, instantly scream and go for his eyes!” is better than nothing.

            “Learn This Amazing Move and Fear No Man!” is far, far worse. Sturgeon’s Law suggests that it’s also far more common.

            Liked by 1 person

        2. When hubby was banished (by work, not us) to middle of no-where-500-miles from home, a series of household emergencies happened. Which I took care of. He felt “unneeded”. My response was a humble “I was trying to not be fellow-scouters* wives, because it was OMG in the morning.” Other wives whose husbands were on the road regularly. Whose husbands regularly complained that their wives “couldn’t do anything but they”, the husbands, “were too far away to do it for them.” I didn’t want to worry him because he wasn’t here. I wanted him to think I could manage, that I wasn’t “high maintenance incompetent”**.

          Then we had an outside faucet blow and the waterline needed turning off. I called. At 3 AM. Legit call. I knew where the meter and valve were. Just I couldn’t get it to “turn off, what was I doing wrong?” Naturally the response was “I’m not there.” If hadn’t been 3 AM or if he’d been here he’d have realized quickly of coarse the traditional knob turn wouldn’t work, because a bypass lever (“PULL UP”) had been put in (below, under the normal facet knob wheel thingy. By prior owner.) He knew that (the “oh, yea” clue when I told him we’d found it). So yes, even 500 miles away he could help.

          We found our balance. When he surprised me by driving the trailer (he’d been living in) home, I was very, very, happy.

          Full story. He and son went on a “bonding” day, on a Saturday. The bonding day was to close up and bring home the travel trailer. That and give our 15 year old some experience towing. Bringing home the trailer was hubby telling me he was transferred back to Eugene, finally.

          (*) Yes. More than one example. One was particularly bad. Most ended up divorced.

          (**) Actual words uttered to me about the others wives.

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        1. …. a woman being able to defend herself if her husband isn’t there is “not needing” him how?
          My husband takes great comfort from the fact I’m a bloody minded b*tch who is not going to lie down and die if someone attacks me while he’s not with me.
          But hey…. you do you.

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          1. My own husband is protective because that’s his nature, but of the two of us, I’m the one more likely to yank your wedding tackle off and feed it to you, because I haz teh ISSUEZ.

            …More like a subscription, but let’s not bicker an’ argue over ‘oo killed ‘oo.

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        2. :eyebrows go up:

          If you think the only reason to have a guy around is for a meat-shield, I have some rather pointed questions for the folks who raised you. And I use that phrase very loosely.

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    7. :ehug:

      Yeah, not a selling point for broad appeal– but like you, I only wanted one. Not all men.

      So folks have to decide what is important to them– I’d actually resigned myself to dying alone when my best friend cluebatted me that he was trying to flirt. We’re married with seven kids, in spite of his terrible taste in women. (I made him laugh hard enough to double over because my claiming that is his biggest flaw annoys him, so he said he’d agree only so long as I admitted that was my flaw as well. And I said I absolutely agree I have terrible taste in women. Pause a beat, laugh out loud. SCORE!!!!)

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    8. When we met, my now-wife was the only one at the table who got my joke – and then proceeded to explain why the punch line depended on mis-use of Latin grammar.

      Wish I could remember the joke.

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  12. I’m an odd. As in very. I realized very early on I would be alone my whole life. I figured I would sleep on a cot in the back of a lab somewhere.

    Not as a mad scientist, but more like an Igor in the employ of a mad scientist. A “Will run endless test for food”, sort of a thing.

    When I was an incredibly shy 17 year-old, this guy who knew my one friend in the whole wide world, asked her to introduce us.

    So not impressed by him really. His dad was a mechanic with his own shop same as my dad. Boring. He was a car guy. Boring. He had two girlfriends already. So stupid too.

    But he kept coming around. And he was really funny. And persistent.

    He broke up with the girls. Who were, BTW very nice girls.

    But so what?

    One day he brought me a present. It was a special edition green slip covered The Hobbit with illustrations by the author. (I’m sure you’ve all seen it) It cost 10 whole dollars and was the first hard cover book anyone had EVER given me. And it was The Hobbit! So expensive (to me) so special (to me).

    I was stunned. He had actually listened to me when we talked. And he remembered what I was interested in. And he went out of his way to find something special. Because that was pre-internet, Amazon, Ebay or anything like that. If you wanted a book you had to go to a book store. And there wasn’t one in our town. He had to go to the big city.

    In that instant I looked at him in a completely different way. He wasn’t just some random guy. He cared. And that meant everything.

    We’ve been married 46 years, 6 kids, 11 grandkids.

    And that my dear gentlemen is how you make yourself stand out. Show her in some way that you care about what she cares about.

    Liked by 7 people

    1. Frank, I poked around your site, and I realized I MET Sharon. I’ll be dipped in ink if I remember where or when because my memory for that is erratic, but I know I met her and have “pleasant experience” associated with the face.
      (Sometimes that’s ALL I have.)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Wow! That must have been before I ever knew who you were. We went to a number of cons, including one or two WorldCons (both in LA) and local small Cons where she was a sometimes panelist. I don’t remember meeting you until Son of SilverCon I, and it was probably around sad puppies that I discovered your blog.

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          1. We went to LA 3 and 4 WorldCons. That would have been 1996 and 2006. Other than that we did ComicCon from 1985 to about 2009, and the local San Diego small Cons, Conjecture and Con-Dor. She was on panels after 2010 at the local Cons.

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  14. After 42 years of so-so dead-end relationships, I saw a poster for a singles something. (They also did Russian babes as a sideline, but nope.) Attended once, met the lady who would eventually become my wife. We talked, and both left. Separately. (I’d gone through a fairly major hit of depression, saw a Psychrink, asked for and got a referral to a Pthersapist, who encouraged me to get my tail out there.)

    Showed up the next month. Chatted with random ladies, not Her. Showed up a month again, She showed up* (complete with predatory wing-woman, who gave off bad-vibes), and this time, we agreed to get together on a Real Date. It took, um, 7 years to get from start to marriage, and despite the usual disagreements, we’ve made it 24 years now. (Too late for our own kids, but we’ve got a great-niece and g’nephew who we make sure to include in Christmas and Birthday gifting. Not sure if we’ll ever see them in real life, but that’s OK.)

    (*) Baby steps, got lucky. It took a hell of a lot of work for me to learn to deal with rejection and Try, Try Again.

    My best friend from elementary through high school met his first** wife at a dinner-club. (Go to various restaurants, meet and talk.)

    (**) Not divorce, fatal medical issue. Don’t know how he met his second wife.

    Mom and Dad met through a bicycle club.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We met because I went to a Darkovercon and the guy running the SCA demo gave me a flyer for my local group with the seneschal’s phone number. And my future beloved was the seneschal.

      (The guy who ran the demo has cancer now, so prayers for Magnus Blood are would not be amiss).

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  15. “Believe it or not in the comments there is a guy arguing that he’s just average. There’s nothing special about him. And that women used to go for the average guy and now they don’t.”

    I have tried very hard for decades to be normal, average, and plain. Hasn’t worked out yet (not perfectly)), but there are still yet things that I have not tried (football fan, for one). I do get hit on, and have been asked out by women (they exist, in a small, very teeny tiny minority). So you, random dude on the internet, have a chance, too.

    If Doofus can find his way out of the attic, you can find your way into a relationship. The attic doesn’t even have a proper entrance, but he somehow gets himself trapped in there, and then again finds his way out, sometimes with help. Not always, the help, mind you. And keep in mind, his orangeness is a feline of tiny brain but much stubbornness. As in, stubborn enough to knock claw down a wall that’s “between” him and his chicken, even if there is a door 2″ away. Silly fuzz.

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  16. Pingback: Instapundit » Blog Archive » YES, THE GAME IS RIGGED, BUT IT’S THE ONLY GAME:  Go On, Do It.

  17. The shared hobbies and interests thing is absolutely key to finding your future spouse. It almost doesn’t matter what the hobby is, just find one that had people of the appropriate sex and organized ways for you and them to meet up.

    In our case it was a drinking club with a running problem but of running and/or drinking is not your thing there’ll be other clubs that are. Churches can be good, if you are religious….

    And yes, sometimes you get an offer to jump out of your comfort zone and do something totally different. Like go work in Tokyo. Take it. Especially if young

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  18. Thinking about the notion of “game” — not the Tatebro version, but the general notion of approaching the whole thing like a game. Understanding the psychology and mindset of your…well, not opponent, but opposite counterparts in the game can give you a leg up. Aside from that, you’ll be more likely to succeed if you approach each attempt to get to know someone like an interesting roll of the dice, to which you can apply any number of bonuses to improve your odds. Or like taking shots at a goal; many shots will miss, but because the goal is worth it, you keep taking the shots.

    If it starts feeling like the attempt is do-or-die, that’s a problem. I don’t know how it is for women, but as a man, that’s a place you do NOT want to be; women can sense it, and no woman chooses a mate who is desperate and out of options. Women want a man who has options but wants HER.

    So, personal story time. Time and place are big factors, and this was 30 years ago in a particular place, and society has put a LOT of friction into the process that didn’t exist back then, but the upshot is that after some stressful and…well…uncool dating experiences, I had decided that I was done with it. Wasn’t looking for women to ask out, just enjoying myself. I’d flirt if the opportunity arose (and if I recognized it…big if), but wasn’t stressing myself with “Could I ask this girl out? When? How?” Just bantering with a female was a pretty cool experience on its own, and being shy and awkward, the only way I managed it at all was by not putting any weight on it. It only worked because I was very purposefully not caring if it worked (if that makes sense).

    I think this might have hit the “guy has options” button, as did getting very good at both my job and my hobbies. But to me it mostly just felt like I was just having fun minding my own business and being my own slightly weird self. And after a while girls started chasing *me*. Most of them I wasn’t interested in (and being generally oblivious, I actually didn’t learn about most of the chasing until I was told about it much later), but as you may have guessed, one of those pursuers was *very* interesting to me. Tall, kinda pretty, dressed well, funny as heck, kindhearted, good head on her shoulders…we ended up getting married 29 years ago.

    So, yeah. Game. As in taking chances and enjoying it as much as possible, not some big stressful do-or-die thing. (Although it’ll probably require you to do a lot of chasing; I got lucky, and I’m not sure that particular type of luck happens for guys now like it did back then.) Take your time playing it, and there are many ways to do it, but make sure you’re in it.

    Liked by 2 people

  19. I met the woman who’s been my best-beloved for decades at a SF club meeting. I’d seen her before at the con her club ran (I was from out-of-town) but we’d never interacted. We got to talking—and we’re still an item, nearly forty years later. She’s Chinese-American but doesn’t speak the language…but I do! When I can get her to go with me to a Chinese restaurant, I’ll talk to the people there in Mandarin, and at first, they answer her, not me. I have to repeat several times (in Mandarin) “She doesn’t speak Mandarin. I do!” The expressions on their faces are priceless.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. One of my most memorable “rejections” on a dating app was “You think too much.”

    It’s a pattern. But my younger sister’s advice still seems a road to relationship suicide. “If you want to get a man, you need to pretend to be what he wants.”

    She’s now been married nearly 30 years, but the first few years were rocky as they discovered that they’d both been pretending during courtship.

    I don’t pretend worth a darn, and I absolutely despise chameleons. And liars.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. Get out there… because it lets you win on so many more levels than dating.

    For example, I once sat across the table from an interview board, as they were firing questions off at me. I’d applied for a forklift operator job, but they kept throwing logistics questions and case studies at me… At that point, I figured this was the weirdest interview for forklift operator I’d ever heard of, and I hadn’t managed to hold back my style of sarcastic planning for everything to go wrong (because logistics questions), so I figured I wasn’t getting the job… but I was rolling with the interview anyway, because good practice.

    The very intense guy who was leading the questions finally broke off, and re-attacked by tapping my resume. “You have a six-month gap in your work history after (job). Why?”

    “I wrapped up a contract, which required rolling doubles as people got hired out. So I was a little burned out, and decided to take a break. I hiked a mountain chain, climbed a glacier, and introduced a malamute to her first taste of the ocean. And when I got bored, I picked up the next job.”

    He blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. Eyebrows were rising across the table from the other two, and he leaned forward aggressively. “And the year-long gap since your last job?”

    I shrugged. “I moved states, and then went back and finished rebuilding a pre-WWII airplane, flew her 4,000 miles down here, landed last week, kissed my husband, and started looking for work.”

    He leaned back with an explosion of laughter. “You win!”

    Me: “What, the kewpie doll?”

    Got a call a week later… apparently I’d won a much higher level job than I’d applied for. They’d seen a lot of candidates who had gaps on their work resumes, but very few who’d gotten off the couch and grabbed life by the balls in the gap.

    That said, I’m not a great one to ask for dating advice. Peter was introduced to me by an awesome friend, Oleg Volk, as a concealed carry instructor for the disabled, to talk over how to carry with my injuries. And then we got to talking, and arguing, over all the important issues.

    The first time we met in person, we were trying to outrun a volcanic ash cloud, and almost made it – I was less than a mile from home when the blast wave hit.

    Weirdly, he proposed anyway.

    Liked by 3 people

  23. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. My life has taken a number of side roads and detours because I learned to be willing to try something different. Sometimes that meant finding the courage to step away from what seemed a fixed path and take a chance. In personal relationships it meant overcoming fear of rejection and giving it one more try (and it finally worked 42 years ago and we’re still a pair)…………. In jobs it meant I’ve gained a lot of experience in a number of different fields. Finally found doing something I loved which carried me through for a long time. Still has some application to my semi-retired part time job too (though I think I’m about ready to fully retire and just do some collector shows as a hobby). Tried to pass on to my kids that there is always another opportunity if you keep your eyes open and I think they’ve got the idea pretty well.

    Great post Sarah!

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Interesting… So, I had come out of ‘bad’ relationship and a crashed marriage and was in a new great job. Boss sent me to a training conference out of town to pick up some new ideas and I figured I might try to meet somebody there even if just for fun. Woman at the registration table, a local at the conference site and with the sponsor group and I sort of flirted when I checked in. The first session I broke pattern and went to sit in the front row and low and behold who sits next to me – the gal from registration.

    We start dating during the week long conference and at the end I ask if I can come visit and get an ok – within a year we were getting married. I also found out the (very cute) outfit she wore on the day we met was a new purchase just for the conference and she referred to it as her ‘catch a man suit’. Well, it worked! Thirty six years… but alas, the ‘tell death do you part’ clause happened and now I’m a single old guy who has no idea how dating and that stuff works now.

    I am also aware enough to know I’m still dealing with grief and the huge shift in life I’m now in. I kid my friends that I’m waiting for that rich cougar to sweep me off my feet – but I don’t really do anything to actually find said cougar. Oh well, being passive right now feels right and I’m hoping for a future where some foolish gal thinks I am a ‘catch’ – hey, I’ve still got a full head of hair so that’s something! I cherish the good times I’ve had and look forward to what may come.

    Liked by 1 person

    2. HUGS.

      And a hot beverage of choice. With a cookie.

      The big things get easier after the first time (holidays/birthdays). It’s the small things that trip you up hard I’m finding, hitting from an angle unexpected.

      Like

  26. Once upon a time, the worst you had to face in asking a girl out was her saying “no” or maybe laughing in your face, or, at absolute worst, her slapping you in the face (because physical assault by a woman on a man has historically been far more acceptable than the reverse).

    Now, you have to consider the possibility of the incident being recorded and posted online to label you a “creep” or a potential “sexual assaulter.” Not always, of course. Not even most of the time. So stipulated. But it’s a non-zero possibility that raises the risk level. Of course, there’s kind of a reverse “survivorship bias” in that. What people see online are the cases of that happening either directly, or indirectly through people talking about them. This makes the risk seem higher than it actually is (You don’t see the polite “no thank you”s, or even the acceptances.) So the perception of risk is higher than the actual risk but that perception is going to drive a lot of people’s behavior.

    There are a lot of other things that make things more difficult today than it was in the past, many of them similar in that perception far outstrips reality, but I’m not really ready to write a book.

    Like

    1. There’s also folks deeply invested in keeping folks miserable– and single.

      Because if you’re married, you’re out of the dating market. If you think the other sex is actively out to get you, you’re not in the marriage market.

      That’s besides cases where the “AITA?” style story-teller is holding back important information– or flat making it up for attention.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Ah the good old days. At TusCon a few weeks ago, one panelist recounted the story of Harlan Ellison who got on an elevator with a very statuesque young lady and said, “What would you say to a little fk?”
      “No, Little F      k,” she replied.

      Like

  28. As we learned in “Wargames”, sometimes the only winning move is not to play.

    Neighborchick, twentysomething, tatted up, skintight yoga pants and tank top, wigglewiggle, hit on me -bigly- this afternoon.

    I am in my 60s. She is broadcasting “Daddy Issues” on about 50kw. Let’s just say the receiver locked up that signal, hard.

    ….

    Nope. Not that stupid. Looking for “wife” not “craycray playtoy”.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. …sometimes the only winning move is not to play.

      Yep. And sometimes even that is a losing move. Especially in that particular scenario.

      Like

  29. Thanks, this happened to be exactly what I need right now.

    You see, I’m in pretty bad trouble with money right now. I broke my arm last fall, near the shoulder, in a spot that made something like putting a cast on it impossible, but the few fragments the bone broke into stayed well in place. And I was told that the best thing to do would be to keep it as immobile as I could until the broken parts grew back together. So I did mostly sit or lie still for a couple of months, had a sick leave for three, and by the time I got back to work I had lost a lot of muscle and was weaker than I have never been before in my life. I seriously had problems getting up from a lower sofa, and the couple of times during last winter I fell I couldn’t get back up without using something like a chair to help, and even then it was difficult.

    Okay, I had already lost those paper routes about half a year before that broken arm because I tore a couple of tendons on both shoulders, the doctor thought that made putting newspapers from the car to the mailboxes too erosive (right word?) for the rotator cuffs, or what I have left there, and because I near the lowest retirement age already I figured I’d probably better get at least that retirement pay then rather that start looking for some new job so I would at least have one steady source of money. So officially I am retired now. But since I had to do that about five years earlier than I had planned it’s not good enough for me to actually live on, especially since I do have a couple of loans I had planned to pay off before actually retiring (and which would not have been all that difficult with what I was earning per year before that first injury).

    And I could still clean, so I kept doing that job. But that broken arm and the loss of fitness caused by that sick leave meant that last winter I wasn’t able to take all that many hours. Then I lost some steady hours because the firm I had them on lost the contract, and they didn’t have anything else to replace those (or they wanted to get rid of me, who knows).

    And then, at the end of last may, I got pulmonary embolism, my second one. Or it got bad enough that it was finally noticed, I had actually also been kind of more easily tired the whole winter, something I had assumed was just due to that lousy level of fitness, but since right after getting back to work after that and now using blood thinners regularly I suddenly could again get up stairs without stopping to catch my breath every second step… yep.

    But since that sick leave happened right at the beginning of the summer, I had not been able to get nowhere as many hours subbing for the cleaning firm I am still working at as I had assumed I would get.

    Then a couple of months later I managed to get erysipelas on one leg, and lost again a couple of steady hours because for some weeks I had problems working, and didn’t do as good a job as they wanted.

    Now we get to this fall. And usually during falls it’s again harder to get work subbing.

    And I am now seriously running out of money. I have been trying to get more hours from other cleaning firms, no luck so far, fall is a bad season for that too because students, a lot of them, have been doing the same, and presumably they still rather hire young people than somebody retirement age even if I am more experienced as a cleaner. Or that latter may be part of the problem, they’d have to pay me a bit more.

    So, I have kept looking for other alternatives. And noticed this taxi firm looking for more drivers.

    So I applied. And got invited to the job interview, got accepted in that too. I suppose they might have liked my driving experience, I had, after all, been driving a small car in bad roads for something like 5 hours per night for over 15 years until last year, no matter what weather, and I am an older woman in a time when we fairly regularly see news of taxi drivers doing things like raping their female customers now when a lot if not most of them are recent immigrants… but that left two hurdles.

    I didn’t have the certificate from a doctor that I was still fit enough to work as a taxi driver.

    Went to be checked out, got that one.

    Now… there is this test, for taxi drivers, about the knowledge you need to be able to do that job (no knowledge of the city you will be working on anymore because at least for that here in Finland the firms just trust GPS navigators, although I actually do know my city fairly well after having been doing paper routes all over the area). It doesn’t look all that difficult (I have at least looked at the study materials), but right now I am still scared stiff.

    First of all, I haven’t tried to pass any written tests or exams, or studied for one, for a couple of decades now.

    And second… I am simply scared of the idea of driving a taxi. Not the driving itself. Of dealing with the customers.

    I am an introvert and a nerd. I am not good with people.

    So right now I haven’t even tried to find out when the next exams are going to happen, or to start studying for them seriously. I would be able to take that exam only next month anyway because it costs about a 100 euros, which I will have only after the turn of the month, but still, there are only a few days left until that now.

    I still have this urge to just keep on hiding. Except that I seriously can’t afford to now, I need all the money I can get.

    I have been promised that I’ll get that employment contract once I pass that exam.

    Heh. If I manage to get there, that is a firm that right uses only Teslas as their cars.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. And I should have proofread that before posting, I have this tendency to think of two or more ways how to say something, and end up writing something in between, or at least something that still has a word or two left from the other version, which don’t fit the version I ended up using.

      Oh well.

      Liked by 1 person

          2. And now I have reserved a time for that exam. Had to leave it until 16th of December, right after my 15th day payday, because it looks like I probably have to use most of the money I get around next weekend to pay off absolutely necessary have to pay bills, plus have to leave something for food and gas.

            Okay, admittedly slightly relieved to have several weeks to study, even if it moves maybe being able to get money from driving to, at best, around the turn of the year. On the other hand if I can start them that is of course one of the times of the year when taxis are used a lot, and since I am not going to get paid by the hour but will get about 40 % of the money the taxi I drive gets from the customers as my pay.

            But possibly I then now have to start in days when I actually might get a LOT of customers right away during the first days. Scary.

            And possibly have to do all that in bad driving conditions, but at least after my old paper routes, bad driving conditions, as far as weather is in question, are something I am quite experienced with. In the city with lots of traffic on the other hand is something I have done a lot less. But still enough that it should not be that big a problem.

            But drunk customers… eek!!!

            Liked by 2 people

  30. I’m so glad I got to read this post and all your responses. It’s my birthday today, I’m in what they call “late middle age” and I moved to a new city two years ago. I’ve been volunteering but my co-volunteers are all much younger than I. However, tomorrow I’m doing a 5K “Turkey Trot” walk (never done one of those before) and perhaps something new and different will come of it.

    Happy Thanksgiving to all.

    Liked by 1 person

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