In my last post I talked about approaching a young woman at a business who I thought might be the sister of that young cashier at that grocery store from 2019 to 2021.  I slept on it last night, and woke up saying HELL NO to that.  I'm so tired of coming off as the outsider/outcast guy bravely approaching attractive women for social reasons, and oh, it's so inspiring, and oh, it's so brave of me to do that, but every time I come up empty.  I'm done with that.  That goes for two other young, very attractive women in my world as well. That's three women I'm blowing off as my current deal with them stands.  If they or anyone else feel like offering me a better deal than that, again, as the outcast guy mustering up all of his courage and approaching some hottie in front of God and everyone only to come up empty; if any of these three women or anyone else has a better deal for me than that, I'm all fuckin' ears, baby.  All ears.

I ran out of budget money tonight, but as soon as I get some more, I'll ask that girl at that one business if she's our Miss Missy Miss' sister.  I feel as if the ball's in my court.  Speaking of balls; I had the balls to ask Miss Missy Miss to my comic book sale when she worked at that grocery store, so asking this other girl-who bears a strong resemblance to Miss Missy Miss, Covid mask and all-if she has a sister I will call Miss Missy Miss might not take the same degree of courage my original approach did.

Hey, I really, truly let go of that young woman after I approached her for social reasons last October.  I'm no mind reader, but I don't see the harm in asking that girl at that business I interacted with last month if Miss Missy Miss is her sister.  And what if it doesn't work out?  That's all I see happening that could turn out negative.  I'll just come up empty again. 

I personally don't go for this cornball romance stuff, but I'm wondering if these thoughts I have of approaching this girl at this business with this inquiry comes from my own head projecting this onto the world, or if these are just the ways of her and hers.  Miss Missy Miss, I mean.

I honestly don't feel as if I've chased Miss Missy Missa to the ends of the Earth and back.  For almost the past year, I've accepted that my best move resided in just bailing on that whole deal, and bail I did.  But, if this whole romance deal resembles a tennis match, like YouTube's Apollonia Ponti said, then I feel as if I'm fielding her and hers volley back in my court.  But, first things first, I can't spend any more money this month on foolish pursuits after young girls who couldn't even take some time out of their day in October of 2021 to come to my comic book sale, so that whole line of inquiry can wait until next month.  By then, maybe my better sense will prevail.

I've decided to leave Austin and move to North Adams, Massachusetts, sometime in April of 2024.  I'm doing so because I will have more affordable housing up there.  I've lived in Austin for the vast majority of my life.  I've got a lot to think about, because I made this decision, for real, just today. I can work part time, get some monies from family and the government as well, and not have to worry so much about what will I do when retirement age hits.  More affordable housing will allow me to worry less about family support drying up as I get older.

I've stayed the last two Summers in North Adams.  It can get pretty lonely up there, I just have a few family members to interact with.   I figure that I would want to move up there while I still have the energy to get out there and meet people and make new friends, instead of waiting until I get even older.

There are sure a lot of attractive young women to look at and admire in Austin, and I will miss that.  But, when I approached that young cashier at that grocery store in the fall of 2021 that I had obsessed on for so long, I figured that with that one act of bravery, I'd left no stone unturned as to how to address so many issues of mine in my relationship with women.

I'd had four of  those transcendent moments in my twenties.  So when I invited that young woman to my comic book show in October of 2021, that moment by itself didn't show me anything new under the sun, really.  But I really tried to change my frame of mind about what I could realistically expect AFTERWARDS, and that change in my expectations represented the biggest change I made this time around.  

To effect that change I employed all of my skills I'd acquired at smelling a rat.  Skills I'd largely honed the years that followed my horrible times with women such as "Wanda," and "Linda," and "Myrna," and Ann Marie, and Alice.  I've found those skills useful in the time that followed that transcendent moment I had when I asked that cashier at the grocery store out, in front of God and everyone, while she worked a shift.  I mean, the invite to my comic book sale was pretty much like asking her on a date, after all.

I enjoy life a lot more these days than in the days when I smoked two packs of cigarettes a day, drank about fifty to seventy beers a week, and smoked all of that pot and did those other crazy drugs.  I made those changes in a town that one can find just saturated with drugs and whatnot, if one travels in certain circles.  I think my overall ability to enjoy life more might translate well in my move up to North Adams.

I've pretty much enjoyed my relationship with women more since I revived that experiment I first tried with Sara in 1988, the experiment where I would try to see what would happen if I "turned my back on love."  I haven't had much in the way of conventionally labeled "success" with women since I revived that experiment, but my feelings of anger and resentment and hostility towards women really, really abated after one intelligent decision about this or that attractive woman quickly followed another and another and another.  I revived that experiment in full effect in the fall of 2012.  

One of my recent posts referenced two previous posts that talked about never learning how to catch a freight train going ninety miles an hour down the railroad track, either, and the fact that I could just reference earlier posts in relation to something I just went through effectively proves that I've managed to achieve a very important goal I set sometime in the 2000's; to compile a history with women where I didn't get hurt all the time.  I figure that achievement will accompany me to North Adams as well. 

There's a pretty robust arts scene in Berkshire County, if not much of a music scene.  I think I will take lessons via Skype from my current teacher at Austin Guitar School.  I will do so until I get around to completing my next album, which will take a while, because I'm trying to learn drums and banjo for it. My work situation up there will dictate how often I can go to things such as comic book conventions and how often I can visit Austin to see friends.  I guess I will write a lot of postcards while I get adjusted to life up there.  Write postcards, work on comics, practice music, listen to baseball games on the radio-pretty much what I did my last two summers up there.  I've definitely learned to be by myself in meaningful and productive ways for long periods of time, which should help me come across as not so needy and desperate for companionship at those times when I might have an opportunity to meet some new people. 

I approached someone I like very much on social media yesterday.   I write this now because I want to play to the possibility that this person actually could read this post.  I'm very fond of her, and I hope that my overture towards her yesterday finds a type of reciprocation  that I very much desire.  That is all.

Sometime in late 2016 I wrote a post about a waitress who I suspected of playing cruel rejection games with me as I dined in her restaurant one morning.  I suspected that she had taken up with a waiter on her shift, but that her small talk with him on that particular morning meant to give me the impression that they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, and that I'd better get with it pretty quick, if I wanted to compete for her affections.

I stopped going there for breakfast, and I wrote a couple of posts about the whole deal.  One of the posts consisted of the lyrics and arrangement of, "My Girlfriend is a Hatesong," and, perhaps in the same post, I wrote something about never in my life learning how to catch a freight train going ninety miles an hour down the railroad tracks, either.  

In February of 2020, I posted the arrangement and lyrics to, "I Never Was Her Guy."  I used the freight train metaphor in that song.  Nope, I have no idea why I should shed a single tear about never learning how to catch a freight train going ninety miles an hour down the railroad tracks.  

A common misconception women I think about a lot often seem to have involves the idea that they don't have to vie for my affections or compete for my attention, much if at all.  They seem to harbor the belief that they really only need to concern themselves with keeping me at arm's length so that I don't get all up in their space and maybe chase them to the ends of the Earth and back.

I had a date in December 2015 where, as I sat and talked to the girl, she smirked and said, "I don't compete for men."  A week or two earlier, before that first date, she said the same thing to me over the phone.  I could hear her smirking through the phone when she said, "I don't compete for men." Mind you, this young woman found herself severely compromised by drug addiction and the ever-present specter of homelessness at this time, but she felt as if she could say that kind of thing to me, TWICE.  That was our one and only date.

I've said it before: ANY attractive woman who makes it AT ALL about me should know that they have to compete with the life I've built up as a single man.  I don't go on many dates.  I don't have many opportunities with women.  I've spent much of my adult life actually shunned and ostracized by many of the women around me.  This resting state of being for my life compelled me to work on areas of my life such as my health, my art, and my music.  I really had no choice but to build up a life without girlfriends, or dates, or sex partners that I nonetheless found meaningful and fulfilling.

So when ANY woman I have an attraction to, even a woman I think about all the time, lets me know that they don't think they have to vie for my attentions or affections to a degree that they've likely felt compelled to put forth for other men they've liked, I've found myself having to educate these women as to the fact of the matter.  I want to try to do it the nice way by writing this out on this blog.  Any woman I think about a lot is probably someone I like A LOT.  I want to try it the nice way this time, and try to give anyone out there a full on heads up.  

ANYONE who treats this heads up as a bluff or any other gesture not worth taking seriously, well, that person probably does not, by default, offer viable competition to the life I have built up for myself as a single man, fifty-eight years old, with a major mental illness.  A man who has quit smoking, drinking, and drugs; who takes his psychiatric medicine as prescribed and makes sure to get plenty of rest and exercise; is working on the TWENTY-SEVENTH issue of an eighty page comic book; AND currently works on his SIXTH solo musical documentation of his songwriting in full-length album form.  These accomplishments help give me a great deal of pride and self-confidence that I can soldier on by myself if I detect an attitude I can't do anything with, even from someone I like A LOT. 

I may think about someone I like a lot, A LOT, but how I process this fact, and the decisions I make as a result of my thoughts about such a fact, reflect a hell of a lot more autonomy in my emotions and behavior than many, many women seemed prepared for over the years.  Don't misunderstand me, autonomy is a good thing.  I can look out for my love interest's best interests a lot better with it than without it.  And I will.