Better Off Ugly.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending what is fast becoming a popular motorsport in Australia, the Drift Race. I found it to be a most enthralling and interesting experience. Enthralling, because deep within the murky soup that is my mind is a visceral, manly need to be around fast cars, and chicks wearing bugger-all clothing, but interesting because it displayed quite clearly the phenomenon of “beautiful women dating ugly men”.

I’m not writing this to be judgemental, or to deride the lovely ladies because of their choice of man, mainly because it’s their choice and there are probably redeeming traits that come out when the doors are closed, ie good sense of humour, subservient, or gives a great foot massage. I don’t know, and I don’t care. Good luck to them.

I’m writing this because I just want to ponder over how the men get the confidence to just waltz up to some great looking woman and just chat away. On top of that, how they can do so without appearing to be some sleaze-bag that wants to jump their bones.

Perhaps it’s the initial impression that is given? If the guy seems like a “sweetie”, then he is probably worth talking to without fear of afore-mentioned bone-jumping. Whereas, if the guy looks like a sleaze-bag, then they’ll withdraw and go running for afore-mentioned sweetie ie the one who made a good, afore-mentioned initial impression. Afore.

But is it a level of arrogance that possesses a man to talk to such women? From a personal standpoint, I’ve noticed that the women that I’ve been attracted to have been extremely intimidating people. Whether it is through beauty, social standing or level of drive, it seems to remind me of “wanting what is out of your league”, or “wanting what you can’t have”. To approach someone whom you immediately deem as better than you requires some level of self-confidence, or daresay it, arrogance.

Because if you have a face that looks like the east side of a west-bound dump-truck, surely you’d have a lot of nerve to waltz up to grid girls/models and start chatting them up? Either that, or you’re just completely and utterly shameless.

If that’s the case, then you’re a prick and I hate you, but I wanna be you... but without your face.

Big for big's sake

Some people often preach that they like a person to admit when they're wrong. However, this kind of philosophy has been brought into question by the authorities that lie within the four walls of my home... which in my mind are more qualified than anyone I know...

It seems that when people hear someone apologise to them, and admit that they had made a mistake, they seem to keep the memory as some form of "get out of gaol free" card. In the event that the apologiser takes a person to task over some indiscretion, then that person holds up said card and says, "yeah, well at least I didn't [insert previous fuck up here]".

People like to gas on about how they like people to behave towards them, but in the event that they are approached by someone who fits this definition, they don't know what the hell to do with them.

I've come to the conclusion that people like to act big, only to be seen as big. Not necessarily to actually BE big.

Hmph.

Acceptance... to a degree

When suffering a loss of any kind, it is far too easy to slip into the realm of sorrow, melancholy and angst. It is even easier to do this whilst listening to the lyrics of Live, Lightning Crashes wailing endlessly in your ear.

I’d like to think that I’ve avoided this territory somewhat, although I do find that in moments of weakness I resort to some depression or some wild blame-storming. But to do this is ultimately pointless as nothing is resolved by shouting angrily at something that won’t hear your cries, nor appears to care deeply about your inner torment. I don’t think that the smiling face of news presenters that are being beamed into my living room via TV could care less that my life is being forced in a direction unknown, and should thus stop being scorned by me.

Which is why fishing around for someone to help is equally as pointless, due to the fact that some form of reliance upon others breeds dependency, and ultimately an empty life.

My life is now mine. This new path I tread, whilst twisting, unsure and lined with the trees of risk, is in my control alone, and it is up to me to not go backwards.

Why I’m blogging this… dunno. Feels good to write it down, though.

Winds of change

This is the first entry of the new year, and I can't exactly claim that the 2005 is being approached with the same fervour in which I greeted 2004.

It's going to be a very different year.

Throughout periods of change, the view of the world suddenly goes askew, and things start to take a different meaning; words to songs suddenly become relevant to you, little ethereal signs are sighted, and emotions are mostly out of your control.

Over the festive period, a chapter closed. A new one opens soon. It is an uncertain time in where I accept change but forging ahead on an entirely new path is both exciting and intimidating at the same time. To leave behind a life of familiarity, routine and solace is disturbing, but liberating.

I am sure that I will look back upon this closed chapter many times over the course of my life, and I will smile with great fondness. If I will feel this way in a couple months time remains to be seen, but in this moment of numbness, uncertainty and directionless waffling, I feel that I shouldn't look upon the closure with much disdain or sorrow.

It was a beautiful chapter that ended a little unexpectedly. The ending doesn't sum up how good it really was, and as a whole it should be called a good phase of my life.