That Wacky Mr. Ishida.

Tatsuya did it again.

He keeps making comics about my life.

And here is the latest installment.

If you haven't guessed, I'm the pig.

Below is something I wrote yesterday at 4AM, with a very attractive coworker to whom I was (am?) very physically attracted asleep in my guest bedroom.

I'm leaving it unedited, and then continuing this post below it.

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The familial roles in relationships.

Or "how I learned to stop loving my mother."

Quasi-Seduction number 2. I'm up to 1 a week. Pretty pathetic, huh? If the trend continues, I'll be approaching daily by next week, then hourly. After that, I plan to collapse from a mixture of exhaustion and physiological shock.

Again, in the end, I'm less interested in the act of seduction as a means to an end as in the actual seduction itself. It's methods, it's effects, it's outcomes, it's variables. (in other words, I STILL haven't gotten laid, dammit).

It's become so fascinating, appearantly, that I can't stop.

Time period: 8:30 PM to 5AM.

Chemical variables:

1 Tangueray and tonic.
3 shots of Rumpleminz.
1 coors light.
2 shots of Jeagermeister.
4 cups of coffee
1/5 a cup of soda.

Thats all I remember consuming, though more might have been involved. She consumed some stuff too, but I wasn't keeping track. I believe the list included 4 shots of jeager, a shot of rumpleminz, a budweiser, and a margarita. Aside from that, I've no idea. (editors note: Ok, so appearantly I was keeping track)

Pretty pathetic that I still can't get my inhibitions lowered enough to take advantage of a girl, huh? I've got some deep-seated issues.

So lets talk about deep seated issues:

I babysat someone tonight. Right now she's asleep in my guest bedroom (naked, I'm pretty sure). She's a coworker/friend who got absolutely tanked last night and was in no condition to drive home, and who I wasn't willing to waste either her money or mine on a hotel room for her. So I brought her here.

Which means taking her back to montgomery 4 *VERY* short hours from now.

I've decided that girls are looking for fathers. if they have a strong father figure, they're looking for men that they know will be strong fathers. If they didn't, they wind up looking for men who treat them as if they were their fathers. This is how women get into abusive relationships.

And men, conversely, are looking for mothers. If they have strong mothers, they look for women who will embody those qualities, if not, they look for girls that will act like their mother did (either pushovers/weak/submissive, or whatever). This is how guys get into freaky, co-dependent relationships.

This is, to me, the essence of the oedipues (sp?) complex problem. Guys who freak out and think their mothers are the end-all-and-be-all of creation.

In addition, I think perhaps this is one of the primary factors in lots of bad relationships in america today. Weak family values means weak families, weak families means weak parenting, weak parenting means children who get into bad relationships because they impose these mother/father roles on their boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/spouse etc.

Thus, the social awkwardness that arises.

More on this as the situation develops. Right now, I really need some sleep.

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Now, back to the present (Dec 20th) on some extra sleep, with all of the alchohol, nicotine, and caffeine out of my system.

Pretty much all of the writing between the lines above is horse shit.

vaguely chauvanistic, overly-thinky, quasi-introspective, wanna-be-philosophical horse shit, but still horse shit, basically.

As Doctor Palmer used to say "Beautiful crap is still crap."

What it boils down to is that I am perfectly equipped to be a seductive, callous, cruel, sex fiend. I've got all the tricks, knowledge, lies, and physical attributes (good skin, 'cute butt', deep eyes, great smile, etc.) that are necessarry.

But I just can't bring myself over the edge.

It's not that I wouldn't like to abandon the last of my inhibitions. It's certainly tempting. Had circumstances been different, perhaps it would have happened last night.

But something much more powerful overrides my desires on this front. It's a combination of social pressures and personal motivations.

My consistent readers probably remember this post. It's a conviction that I am, appearantly, powerless to abandon.

Like abandoning the color of your skin, or the way you laugh. It's something you can't train out, or run away from, or deny.

Sure, you can fight against it. You can buy makeup, you can think hard about frowning, you can start searching out relationships that you know are doomed by circumstance (kid, I'm sorry--But maybe the 3 week time limit was a large part of the attraction for me), but it won't change the underlying issue.

We are who we are. We dream our dreams and no matter the batterings and turmoils of life, those dreams never leave us.

And here is the fundemental trick for me, caught up in the christmas time.

My biggest problem, now and for the last year or so is something I described in "On people and faith" and "I call bullshit". I claim that people can't change. I don't believe in the Ebenezer experience. No Scrooges will be saved this Christmas in what I claim as my bitter, cynical reality.

And deeper still, behind my desperate desire to be jaded. . . I don't want to believe in the reality I have built out of the cold hard bricks of my experiences. I want people to be changable. I want people to improve, to dream and to reach for the dreams they long ago abandoned.

I want people to be good, and proud, and noble, and kind.

Noble, perhaps, most of all.

I want people to be noble. And more than that. . . I want to be noble myself. It's the meaning of my name. Patrick. Nobleman. It is something I seem to have forgotten. Maybe it is time I went searching for it again.