Last month, while in San Marcos, I wanted to approach one of my San Marcos crushes for social reasons. She's a waitress (big surprise) and I'd patronized her place of employment only a few times since last summer. I didn't know her at all, to be honest, since I'd only had a few, brief verbal interactions with her in the course of ordering food at her restaurant.

So, why did I want to try to get with her in earnest, one might ask. Well, I went in there on a Monday night, went to the counter to order an entrée, and as I ordered my food from another young woman, my crush had a look on her face.  What was the look? She looked out straight ahead-not at me- and her expression seemed to say that she was thinking about something. I connected this somewhat pensive expression that also had a hint of curiosity in it to me.

That's it. Based on A MOMENTARY LOOK ON A VERY ATTRACTIVE WAITRESS' FACE WHILE I STOOD AT HER COUNTER AND LOOKED OVER AT HER, something stirred in me to try and go for it.  This little bit of life happened on a Monday night, and the following Wednesday night, while waiting for Songwriters Night to begin, saw me thinking HARD about going in there again and seeing if I could chat her up.  So, scenario after scenario rolled around in my head that featured successful attempts by me to chat her up and get something going with her 

So, thusly, I ran through some successful-attempts-at-chatting-her-up-tapes in my head, and then.....and then I realized, "I ALWAYS  come up with a reason such as that to make it all about this or that twenty-two year old hottie in my world, and it ALWAYS turns out to be a complete bullshit reason to make it all about someone like that. Always, always, always!"

That's absolutely true, too. This desperation-tinged tendency goes all the way back to the days of my youth. Such a tendency could scare the bejeezus out of the girl in question and as well as those around the both of us.  A facial expression, a look in her eyes, a minor flirtation, some little thing the girl or someone else said; I mean I would cling for dear life to such things as a sign of THE REAL DEAL going on between me and the girl.

I had several psychotic episodes that blossomed from such a seed I planted in my own brain.  These episodes involved a lot of ostracism from whatever group I found myself in, as I could run into some considerable defenses from the girl in question and those around us both. Heartbreaking shit. Absolutely devastating.

In a post from the spring of 2023 titled, "I'm going no contact with that band," I talk about how recovery from love addiction involves stepping back from such situations as the one I outlined in the above paragraphs and looking at the bigger picture. Stepping back, as opposed to trying to gain ground on someone such as that attractive young waitress in San Marcos by attempting to chat her up.  

In 2016, I first blogged about how I always used to think I needed a love interest in order to feel as if I played a part in the love, romance, and dating game. That was the step back I executed in 2016. Now, NINE YEARS later, I catch myself with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar and come up with HOW I actually go about SELECTING  these love interests.  ALWAYS, ALWAYS, some little thing or other that I blow way out of proportion and cling to for dear life like a chunk of driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean.

After songwriters night that Wednesday in San Marcos, I stopped by that restaurant where one of my San Marcos crushes works, or worked, and she wasn't there. I ordered some food and went back to my hotel. I felt good about changing the direction of my thinking earlier in the evening. I plan on taking some time off in San Marcos in the new year, but I can totally see myself just leaving that girl alone should I see her again.

During this past month or so, I’ve thought seriously about putting a stop to this blogging.  In my previous post, I alluded as to why I wanted to stop blogging. I talked about a guessed-at internet presence that I did not consent to.  I talked about how I guessed that someone copied blog entries from this site and pasted them on this other guessed-at site.  I said all of that because it seems as if a lot of people in my world actually read the entries, but I get very few hits on my web counter.   This “vibe” I get, whether based in reality or not, seemed to fade when I stopped blogging.

I started writing in a journal, again, about a month ago. A private, pen and paper journal. I started to feel much better doing that over these blog posts. That’s all I have to say. The only way I could see continuing to blog is if people in my world stopped reading the entries from this supposed other platform and instead read the entries on MY site, so I could see it on my web counter. I can test the waters for a few weeks longer to see if anything like that takes shape, but from where I sit now, it looks as if the long term solution to this dilemma involves writing in my private, pen and paper journal. I’ve blogged enough, I bet.
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It has been a month since I’ve posted an entry. I looked on my web counter today. I saw that I’ve had over 650 unique visits to my web site in the past week. That’s a lot! I was expecting, like, 6 or 7 unique visits. I did have a convention where I sold comics to a couple of dozen or so people just recently, true, but not over 650 people. 

I shall see if this increased web traffic continues into the next week or the week after. If it does, it might have something to do with the readers of this blog. Specifically, I’m talking about the alleged web presence I’ve guessed at or so long. The web presence that I did not consent to. The web presence that dredged up dirt on me from the nineteen-fucking-eighties and encouraged attractive young women I encountered to harass me in various, nefarious ways. One prominent way involved attractive young women in my day to day world representing themselves as available and interested in me under false pretenses. Yeah, that alleged web presence.

I guessed a long time ago that the women I accused of hosting this web presence, I’ll call them Fuckface and Tarashula because, I don’t know why, I just like those nicknames; I guessed a long time ago that Fuckface and Tarashula would copy and paste my blog entries from this site to THEIR site. That would account for the feeling that many, many people, mainly women, who resided in my world seemed to vibe having read entries regularly, but somehow I would have less than 20 unique visitors a week to my own site.

Is the “vibe” I get that many, many people -mainly women- in my world actually read what I write but don’t come out and say they read it when I encounter them day to day just in my head? Maybe. Is this increased visitor count a fluke? A one-time thing? Is this increased visitor count from the people at the convention? Is it from my supposedly secret blog audience? Did some social media influencer post a link to my web site? I guess I’ll just have to see if this web traffic continues in the coming days, weeks, and months, or if it drops off in a flash. The outcome will definitely affect how much I’ll want to continue with this blog.

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