Give Me Them Digits, Girl.

Someone please explain to me the miracle that is the cute girl hanging out with the dude "playing in the minors." You've got this guy; bearded; glasses; really long, stringy hair stuffed under a crappy cadet hat; wearing cargo khakis with a pull over sweater that looks like it might have some bong water stains, and the absolutely cute chick who is a third the guy's size; wearing a cute plaid skirt; nice skin; and great make-up. 

In my head, this scenario NEVER works out for the ugly fat dude and the cute girl leaves without giving the underdog another shot. Secretly, I'm pissed at the guy because in my head, I could have been the next "underdog" she decided to give a shot, but now that's ruined. Thanks a lot, fatty cargo ass! 

That's when I realize that I'm not the underdog and I'm not playing in the minors. I'm playing for the big leagues and on the winning team. Unfortunately, I'm also not taking any shots (switching it up to soccer). I've been spending most of my time just passing the ball along and not driving it at the keeper. To be honest, had my love-life been an actual player, I'd make excuses that he's creating opportunities for other players before I truly hated him for never crushing the ball when the opportunity showed itself.

Now, I'm not actually upset with myself about my love-life. If anything, I'm pretty proud that I haven't put up with any BS since college. Seeing some of my friends go through the crap they dealt with this past year really raised my confidence in that decision. It's been one that I've stuck to, but it's sometimes the one in which I wonder if I've put too much weight on. Seems like I've decided not to deal with any BS that when I get even a hint of it, I immediately write a girl off and move on to the next one. Unfortunately, the 'next one' tends to take her time.

Playing in the top league does mean that I have to really start playing like I know I belong there. I've got my friends cheering me on; telling me I'm awesome; reassuring me that I deserve the best, but I still have a tough time believing them. The worst part is that I'm absolutely terrible when it comes to picking up on a girl's hints. I'm pretty sure this has been mentioned in a post before, but if it hasn't, you've probably heard me say it in person. I'm completely oblivious to them.

A few months ago, I wrote a post where I called myself a "green beret of vagina". This title has never helped me out when it comes to women. Something in my brain shuts off when I'm talking to a girl I dig and I can't tell if she's into me. Sure, I can strike up a conversation with any person in a room (Nazis excluded from that list) and have a really good time, but I can never tell if I should ask for a girl's number. It's a weird feeling knowing that I can talk to someone with such ease, but not know if a girl would be into continuing the conversation over dinner. Maybe I'm just too polite and focused on having a good time. One thing that's for certain is that I'm ready for my chance to smack the ball into the open net and hear the roar of the crowd - or just hearing my friends say "cool." 

The crazy part about the scene I described up top is that the guy was the bored one. That pompous jerk.

I'm Just a Big Fatty

Let's take a second and discuss how finding someone attractive works? OK, I really don't want to discuss the science behind it. I just want some answers as to why certain guys, who I think are awesome, are still waiting for the right girl. Then I see dudes with some of the cutest girls I've seen on this earth, well, this island, and wonder what those girls could possibly see in them. 

Now, I know there's a ton of "relationship" advice out there in the world, and God knows that I don't want to add more on to that steaming pile heap, but what gives? I may be speaking personally here, but I'm sure a lot of readers might be feeling the same thing. There's also the possibility that girls might be switching the roles here and asking the very same question.

For a while, I've come to terms that in order to attract the type of girl I want, I need to make myself attractive to them. I don't mean by changing who I am, just that I could stand to lose a few pounds. No, no, please. I can hear your protests already, but I assure you, I could do without the extra weight. Heck, the main reason is my health and the (inevitable) girls would be a bonus.

What it boils down to is that I'd be healthier and would allow me to do things I have wanted to do. This in turn would make me happier. But, what about the other guys that I know who have no need to lose weight? Is there something they feel they could do about themselves also? What about the Ryan Goslings of this world who are normal, everyday guys? Where do they fit into this? Why hasn't my question been answered? Am I being delusional in thinking that girls would automatically come crashing at my feet when I lose weight? Is there even an answer to these stupid questions?

Easy There, Kid.

Today, I was eating my lunch when I watched a father and son head for the exit after they had finished their meal. The son following close behind his father as he opened the door and stepped out. The dad had the remainder of their meal in one hand and held the door open with the other. The kid,  clutching a child's cup with straw, walked out underneath his father's arm, took a couple of steps, and waited for his father. It was at that point that I was reminded that I couldn't wait to be a dad.

I always knew I wanted to have kids and have been looking forward to it since my early 20's. Don't think for a second that I was out there trying to become one, though. If there's one thing I know for certain it's that I am not ready to be one just yet. I'm only 27 and as most of the people I work with keep reminding me, "oh you're only a kid." For that, I am completely grateful.

There is no way that I'm financially stable at this point in my life. I'm not sure how I'd fair with having to support a child. The choices I've made for myself have been less than spectacular for it. Then I remember how an acquaintance had shared the story of when his son was born. 

He looked down at him, laying in the hospital nursery, and questioned how he would ever support this child. Within the blink of an eye, he told me about how at that moment he realized he would do absolutely everything he could for his son. He even called himself a dummy and realized that he would no longer be living for himself.

I look back at that story and ask myself if I would be like that? I try to come up with excuses that I'm not ready and that I already live a selfless life. I'm sure if you ask my friends, some of them can tell you stories of how I thought of others before myself. But, that's not the answer I come to.

No matter how many times I ask myself and scenarios I run in my head, I always come to one conclusion. It will all change when my kid arrives. No matter what, everything I know and how I think will be turned upside down once I know there is a part of me that is living in this world and I have to do absolutely everything I can to love and care for them. That's what I look forward to most. It will go far deeper than just holding a door open. It won't stop until my last dying breathe.

But first, I need to find the mom.