Hallowed be thy name...

Two thoughts.

Wedding on Saturday.

I'm not one of those girls that gets emotional at weddings. I'd say that seems fairly obvious. I don't dream of my wedding, the bouqet (or whatever) tossing goes unnoticed (I usually miss it), garter removal, wedding cake sampling, alchol intake, it all sails by me. I am not looking with adoration on the flower girls or the ring bearers toddling along the aisle, dreaming of my own future flower girls that I will be able to donate to use at future weddings of friends or family.

Sorry, that all flies by me.

I sit and watch. I like to witness the emotions, the connections, the subtle movements across faces and where their eyes are prone to wander.

I found myself sitting at the reception, watching my boss and his bride do their first dance as a married couple. He's a good looking man, and she's, oh god, she's gorgeous. Beyond beautiful. Even without the wedding make-up and glow, she's always struck me with how incredible looking she is.

So they're dancing, and I'm watching.

And after their dance, the DJ does this thing where he calls all the married couples onto the dancefloor and starts ticking them off. "Leave the floor if you've been married for a year or less. Leave the floor if you've been married for five years or less." Etc. So he hits the 40 year mark and there's only one couple remaining and they're dancing and having a great time, and the new bride and groom give them a gift "from the shortest married couple to the longest". Which I thought was neat. Symbolic.

Watching the married couples, the male and female counterparts, who was with who, who looked like their partner, who did not, how they interacted with each other... it was interesting. It made me turn into myself and wonder what it would be like to actually find someone I'd love and trust enough to marry.

I mean, I barely find men I'm willing to date.

And that made me realize that even when I'm asked out by someone, and I do accept and go out with them, it's never with a relationship on my mind. I view them as a potential sex partner, not even considering long-term. It just doesn't occur to me.

The thought doesn't even enter my mind.

I didn't even realize I was skipping that whole "maybe this is the man for me" mental process until about ten minutes ago when the wedding came up at work and I started re-examining my reaction to it.

I still have this gut-level reaction that I am so torqued, that because of who I am and what I want in my partner, I will probably never find someone I'd actually wish to spend my life with in a committed fashion.

And it's not because of high standards. I have standards, yes. But they aren't "normal" standards. I don't look at income as much as experience, looks as much as how someone carries themselves.

It's because I'm an oddball.

Sometimes people tell me that I'm absolutely normal, that there are thousands, if not millions of girls out there like me. And, for a short while, I believe them. And, maybe, I think that I might actually be blending in with everyone else, that this feeling of disconnect, of being foreign, is all in my head.

And then things happen, I do things, I view things a certain way, I talk to someone, and they end up looking at me, when I express myself, my experience, my ideas, like I'm an alien. Like the concepts I'm putting forth are beyond human comprehension. That there are no other girls out there like me.

Which is incredibly self-centered to believe.

I say, every so often, that I know girls like me.

And, in the past, I have known some. Two, to be precise. One, I lost contact with. The other, as we both grew, we became different. We still connect, we still are close and understand each other like no one else will, but we've chosen different lifestyles.

I don't know any girls like me now, aside from that one. If I could know them and have the type of relationship I do with the one I currently know, that would be wonderful and relieving.

But it will still come back to the wedding, to the relationships, to the dynamic that, maybe, one day, I'll have. But I can't imagine it. I can't imagine meeting someone I'd want to do that with. Someone that would fit me, that I would fit.

Second thought:

I was, exhaustedly, hanging out with C and Redwing last night.

Redwing, he falls below my radar. He's too young (personality-wise), he's wildly inexperienced, and he carries himself poorly. He's amazingly beta in social interactions, beyond most I've seen. C likes that, likes men that are more socially androgynous than most, but that is so very not my thing.

Anyhow, C is a hair, make-up, and fashion girl. She loves it, loves dressing up for everything, which I think is rocking. She spends hours in the bathroom before we go out, making everything perfect. I think that's crazy, but she always looks good.

Last night, she did Redwing's hair.

I walked into the bathroom as she was finishing it, and he stood up... and was hot.

Well, until he opened his mouth.

Anyhow, he was hot. I gaped at him. "...you....you... look standardly hot. You actually look good in a socially acceptable way."

So I'm not that tactful, for those of you gaping at me for saying that to him. I was tired. That's my only excuse. I was just blown away.

He did look good. If he fixed his teeth, his face would be fantastic. His teeth aren't even that bad. They're straight, it's just that they run a little oddly, which messes with his bite, which translates into his face.

And he does dress better than I would have expected, should I have met him elsewhere.

We went into the kitchen, and he started doing what he usually does. Slouching, gesturing with feminine movements, injecting whiny tones into his voice, acting feminine in behavior, and whenever topics shifted away from him, he would interrupt and bring them right back as best he could. His facial expressions are, while not ridiculous, incredibly feminine, overdramatic, unattractive. He flutters his hands. He slouches insanely.

I found myself getting irritated.

He has a good face. He has height on his side. If he put on muscle, he'd have a fantastic body. It's all freaking there. He'd just have to control his mannerisms and stop acting like a girl, and he would be so damn good. I just wanted to smack him and tell him to shape up, that he could be so much better, lead a better life, have better relationships, if he would just get himself together. Respect, which he never gets. Self-confidence, that he is so obviously lacking.

He has all the raw materials he needs. It wouldn't take hardly any effort. He could become fantastic and desirable in just a few months, without spending a dime.

I hate wasted potential. I hate seeing what a person could be, that they never will chose to be, because they're satisified with what they have, with mediocrity, or worse. When someone complains about what they don't have, or how what they do is unsatisfactory, but they don't take the steps to achieve what they want.

Take those steps.

You're capable of more.