Why is love so hard to find

I used to think that I wasn’t very hopelessly romantic. I don’t like cheesy pick up lines, I don’t get turned on by the idea of being serenaded by some sensitive John Mayer-wannabe. I’m so stubborn about being an independent woman, there’s no point in holding doors for me because I would just open my own. I like doing things for myself. I like that I can live on my own without having to deal with a significant other.

But I think I’m wrong.

I believe a large part of why I thought I was just so not into romance was because nobody’s ever effing tried. I was never the girl in high school who got flowers, cards, or any special gifts on a regular basis. In my entire life, I was only asked to a high school dance once. And I turned him down because I really didn’t like him in that way. I went to my senior prom alone because nobody asked me. I’ve never been in a serious relationship, and I don’t think I even remember the last time I kissed a guy sober.

It’s not like I’m completely clueless when it comes to the opposite sex. I know plenty that have expressed interest in me, and I can flirt up a storm when I want to. But what seems to stand out the most is that nobody has ever shown any indication that they could actually care about me in any deeper way. And it kind of makes me feel pathetic.

I’m sick of being treated as a one night stand. I want something real. Is that so hard to ask?

To the customer who unknowingly ruined my night

OK, so you didn’t really ruin my night. You weren’t rude or anything, so I can’t really complain. But you did have a hand in preventing me from previewing Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince tonight, an accomplishment I feel that you must somehow pay retribution for.

You see, the new Harry Potter movie is due to be released tomorrow at midnight, and so in preparation for this monumental event, we were supposed to preview at least two of the prints tonight to make sure they were in fine working condition for the midnight shows. One of the prints was supposed to be previewed in theater 7, a theater that was scheduled to play Ice Age 2 at 10:35. If nobody was watching the 10:35 show, then we would have been able to start previewing Harry Potter around 11, finish it around 2, and then I could come home, sleep, and trudge my way back to work in the morning.

But no. You, young girl, decided to purchase one single ticket to the 10:35 Ice Age show. One ticket. I ripped your ticket, and you walked inside. Because you purchased that one single ticket, Ice Age had to run in theater 7 as scheduled, and there wouldn’t be any Harry Potter until 1 am, at which point I definitely would not have been able to stay awake for, considering the fact that I’m currently running on 3 hours of sleep.

And the funny thing is — you didn’t even show up for your movie! There was not a single person in theater 7 when I checked, even though the movie was running and even though our records say that one person was in there for that showtime. So of course, we concluded that you must have been one of those pesky under-17 kids who wanted to sneak into Bruno or The Hangover or god forbid, Public Enemies instead.

I don’t care if you snuck into an R-rated movie. Not when all I wanted to do was watch Harry Potter. Why couldn’t you have bought a ticket for The Proposal instead? Or I Love You, Beth Cooper? Or some other movie that wasn’t Ice Age at 10:35? Because of you, missy, I had to turn down watching Harry Potter before everyone else because I did not want to stay at the mall any longer than I had to, and staying there until the wee hours of the morning was not on my agenda. Now because of you, I have to actually go buy a ticket and watch the midnight show with all the other regular folk. Thanks. Thanks a lot.


I hate playing these LoveGames

Remember those days in middle school, high school? You see a cute boy (or girl), you try your best to get them to notice you, you do everything you can to make Cupid strike that arrow of his? Because, you know, you like that person, and when you like someone, the natural due course is for you two to get together and eventually have fun making babies.

In high school, I remember the times when I’d try to rearrange my routes and walking patterns so that I’d pass by a certain boy in the hallway. I’d live for those moments. He would smile at me, or wave, or do that nodding-of-the-head thing. There would even be times when I’d go to my locker when I didn’t need to, just so I can have a few moments of conversation with that boy just because he happened to be passing by at the time. With another boy, I also carefully planned the timing of everything: when I’d get into the lunch lines, when I would walk up a stairwell, and other silly little things like that. Just thinking back to those days makes me want to laugh at my naivety. I’d certainly learned a lot of things about boys since then.

But the thing that sucks about the most about those foolish habits? It never ends. I’m going into my third year of college, and I still find myself doing little tricks just to get a chance to talk to some cute boy I’m crushing on. It’s almost pathetic. And I feel like it’s just going to get worse, now that I’m older. I go out to the bars at school, meet a cute boy, go out to the bars again and see him there again. The cycle continues. Only this time, you’ve got stupid things like alcohol and Facebook thrown into the mix, this LoveGame (thank you, Lady Gaga) that we play. And now I plan out my outfits, makeup, the nights I decide to go out, etc. — just to see that cute boy again. It’s ridiculous!

And now this recent little pickle I’ve found myself in. I am doing the same effing thing all over again. I dress up, I wonder if I’m going to see him today or not, I wonder if I get to talk to him again. Ugh.

Why do I have to be such a girl?

We build then we break

So The Fray and Jack’s Mannequin play tonight at Tinley Park — and I’m not there. I’m a bit frustrated. They’re my favorite band, and I couldn’t find a single soul to watch them with me. And it’s frustrating, because I made a promise to myself back in 2007 after I first saw them that I would go to their every major tour concert in Chicago, and already I couldn’t even keep it.

I don’t think I’m being very selfish by saying this, but why is it so hard for people to accommodate themselves for me? I’m starting to feel like all I do is give and give, and yet not one person so far this summer has ever bothered to really, truly ask me: “What is going on in your life right now?” I can think of one person whom I have seen at least every week this summer, and even though I know what’s going on in her life, I’m pretty sure that she has not yet considered asking me how the fuck I’m doing in mine. It’s the most difficult feeling to have, because it’s not like I have been holed up in this house the entire summer. I’ve actually been out, hanging out with people and working. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that people ask me to do things with them rather than vice versa. It just makes me feel more pathetic, how nobody ever bothers to listen to me anymore.

To make my mood even worse, the U.S. lost the Confed. Cup final to Brazil today. And I’m downright disappointed. Yes, this was valuable experience for them, but at the same time it was just repulsive the way the U.S. totally disappeared in the second half. A 3-2 result I’ll take, but I’m expecting much better next year in the World Cup.

On a much lighter note, I am super duper happy that the White Sox spanked the Cubs today, 6-0. 🙂