I remember feeling very trapped and pressured by the situation with Sara in 1988. Read blog entry, "I'm not bad," from January or February of 2016 to get up to speed on Sara. When I delivered documents for my dad's practice in 1987, I remembered one office that had a flyer for a group that would meet for counseling. The flyer said that this particular set of patients would feel especially emotionally accessible due to their childhoods. I think it had something to do with the absence of hardworking parents or something like that. Anyway, I never looked up that group, but the flyer went on to say that such people often feel victimized due to this heightened emotional accessibility. I read that flyer at the time I had a really bad time with Wanda, and I felt as if she had been taking advantage of me.
So, here's Sara in the Spring of 1988 in my Latin American Art History class, and she seems to want nothing better than to put me behind some kind of eight ball, emotionally speaking. Sara seems to have had nothing better to do than to present me with this dilemma posed by so many elusive women in my life. If I pursue them, will they run? If I don't pursue them, will I miss out on an opportunity?
So, like I said, I felt very trapped and pressured in this dilemma presented by Sara. I remembered that flyer about how emotionally accessible people can often feel victimized in relationships, whatever "relationships" means, and I said to myself, "So what's so bad about coming off as accessible and available?" My course of action, once I took it, made it clear to Sara that she could approach me should she wish to.
I learned through the course of action I did take with Sara that I didn't need to chase women like her to the ends of the Earth and back. I could just come off as someone they could avail themselves of for any reason should they want to. The cat and mouse game continued into the Summer of 1988, until I got really insulted one night when one of Sara's friends made it clear through her repeated coughing in a large painting studio at the school that I was to jump through hoops. After taking this deal to a new place for me, and probably Sara, I ended Sara's access to me. I snubbed Sara as I walked by her one time in the hall at the beginning of the Fall semester, 1988. I kept it up that whole semester, during which I secured teacher recommendations for graduate school but did not attend classes because I'd graduated the previous Summer.
I've taken that lesson to heart ever since I decided to revive the Sara experiment in 2012. Women will favor whomever they favor, and oftentimes it's just not me. If I make myself available, approachable, and accessible enough over an extended period of time towards this or that woman in my world and nothing happens, there's a reason for such a nonevent that has nothing to do with whether my game is up to speed or whether I'm playing my cards right. All I can really do involves coming off as friendly and approachable enough to satisfy my own standard of meeting that kind of expectation.
In other news: Tonight I found my brand new container of parmesan cheese in the pantry at the front of the shelf at eye level. I said in the post yesterday that it looked as if the Invisible Woman was back at it in regards to pilfering shit such as my parmesan cheese and my Pogues CD. "Gee, not to put any pressure on you, Rich, but now that you mention it..." Also: Last night I wrote a draft of, "Pardon Me Young Lady (But You've Double Parked Your Broom)." I decided to refrain from posting it, because I didn't want to offend anyone's religious beliefs. Just call me Woke As Fuck Rich. That's what the kids like today, for you to be woke as fuck.
So, here's Sara in the Spring of 1988 in my Latin American Art History class, and she seems to want nothing better than to put me behind some kind of eight ball, emotionally speaking. Sara seems to have had nothing better to do than to present me with this dilemma posed by so many elusive women in my life. If I pursue them, will they run? If I don't pursue them, will I miss out on an opportunity?
So, like I said, I felt very trapped and pressured in this dilemma presented by Sara. I remembered that flyer about how emotionally accessible people can often feel victimized in relationships, whatever "relationships" means, and I said to myself, "So what's so bad about coming off as accessible and available?" My course of action, once I took it, made it clear to Sara that she could approach me should she wish to.
I learned through the course of action I did take with Sara that I didn't need to chase women like her to the ends of the Earth and back. I could just come off as someone they could avail themselves of for any reason should they want to. The cat and mouse game continued into the Summer of 1988, until I got really insulted one night when one of Sara's friends made it clear through her repeated coughing in a large painting studio at the school that I was to jump through hoops. After taking this deal to a new place for me, and probably Sara, I ended Sara's access to me. I snubbed Sara as I walked by her one time in the hall at the beginning of the Fall semester, 1988. I kept it up that whole semester, during which I secured teacher recommendations for graduate school but did not attend classes because I'd graduated the previous Summer.
I've taken that lesson to heart ever since I decided to revive the Sara experiment in 2012. Women will favor whomever they favor, and oftentimes it's just not me. If I make myself available, approachable, and accessible enough over an extended period of time towards this or that woman in my world and nothing happens, there's a reason for such a nonevent that has nothing to do with whether my game is up to speed or whether I'm playing my cards right. All I can really do involves coming off as friendly and approachable enough to satisfy my own standard of meeting that kind of expectation.
In other news: Tonight I found my brand new container of parmesan cheese in the pantry at the front of the shelf at eye level. I said in the post yesterday that it looked as if the Invisible Woman was back at it in regards to pilfering shit such as my parmesan cheese and my Pogues CD. "Gee, not to put any pressure on you, Rich, but now that you mention it..." Also: Last night I wrote a draft of, "Pardon Me Young Lady (But You've Double Parked Your Broom)." I decided to refrain from posting it, because I didn't want to offend anyone's religious beliefs. Just call me Woke As Fuck Rich. That's what the kids like today, for you to be woke as fuck.
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