Warning to all, this may be an angry, disgruntled, or completely off-topic post simply because I'm fairly pissed right now. I of course being from the glorious state of Ohio watched my Buckeyes play tonight in the Fiesta Bowl, (aka The Buckeye Bowl for those who haven't noticed our appearances over the years). I swear I'm going to die of a heart attack during one of these seasons...I feel like I go through lifetimes of emotions in the span of two hours. Literally I went from the highest highs when Boom Herron ran for a touchdown with 2 minutes left and then sunk into tears when Colt McCoy threw a touchdown to Quan Cosby for the last minute score. So now I am up at midnight when I should be in bed, but I'm too angry to sleep.
Yes, I'll admit I'm the biggest sore loser out there right after a loss like this. I will bargain my way left and right out of why we lost, how we could've prevented it and even claim the all-being, loving God is just messing with me. (Yes I know that's low...God and I will have a heart to heart tonight to reconcile things I promise).
But in the aftermath of all of this I couldn't help but parlay some magical knowledge from these two gut wrenching moments of my brief history in 2009. Be prepared for me to drop some science on ya.
Everything is a competition to me. No joke. I'm not sure where this competitive streak or energy came from, because if you know my parents and even know my family you'd be like, "huh?" My mom, albeit somewhat crazy and over the top about many things is pretty calm about stuff. I hear the occasional curse word or see the red angry face when I've pissed her off, but I've never seen her be mad competitive. My dad, probably one of the most business savvy guys I know and competes on a daily basis with other companies is the coolest cucumber. I mean during football games I call him to rant simply for him to collectively calm me down with his logical reassurances. So, despite these two references of sane, balanced parents how did I end up with the recessive gene of the incredible Hulk when it comes to my competitive nature?
I think it began in childhood. (That's when we all get messed up right?) Those great formative years where things become as innate to us as Pavlov's dogs and their bells. I remember growing up receiving praise for beating out my classmates and getting higher grades, I won trophies when I beat the other girls at sports, and I even received recognition when I competitively beat people out for elected positions. It was like my sick little high. Forget drugs, forget alcohol, forget sex, my natural high was winning...and winning with an intent.
So you're probably wondering, ok so ummm how does this transcend to relationships, which is what this blogging business here is about right? Guiltily and sheepishly, I admit that I probably kind of sort of treat relationships like competitive games. Trust me this was all subconscious up until I just realized it in the heat of my scarlet and gray Ohio State tears. (So please don't hurt me if you were a pawn...) Anyways, I don't think it's as malicious as it sounds.
But think about it. So often I've told myself that, "oh I'm just picky", or "oh I can never find a man good enough". I really think the point is though that I just got bored once I had a guy in my grips...it just became un-fun after that. The high was gone. For instance, first dates there are always those initial highs when you meet someone for the first time that you're attracted to. There's the baiting back and forth, the flirting, the sexy glances, the conversation and then bam! You got him! That's when I'm like NEXT! That's so messed up isn't it? Ok I'm disgusted with myself now...super. Not at least I can go to bed depressed AND angry.
It's like that old saying where they say with guys that the girl is just playing hard to get and that guys like that and stuff. Well I must be the opposite because for some reason I start lusting after those guys that play hard to get with me. And oh lordy, if one slips out of my grasp just forget it, I'm practically obsessed with winning them back. Maybe this is why I keep slipping back to guys that treat me like dirt, because it's a competition to win them over and to give that final "A ha! Gotcha!"
So, lessons learned so far this year. 1) Don't go to open bars on New Year's Eve 2) Bad decisions aren't always bad decisions 3) Do not wait on a guy to catch up to you, love fearlessly 5) Don't make a guy your best friend, unless he's gay and 5) Marry a professional athlete because he will understand your crazy bi-polar sports issues. Amen sista, amen.
Yes, I'll admit I'm the biggest sore loser out there right after a loss like this. I will bargain my way left and right out of why we lost, how we could've prevented it and even claim the all-being, loving God is just messing with me. (Yes I know that's low...God and I will have a heart to heart tonight to reconcile things I promise).
But in the aftermath of all of this I couldn't help but parlay some magical knowledge from these two gut wrenching moments of my brief history in 2009. Be prepared for me to drop some science on ya.
Everything is a competition to me. No joke. I'm not sure where this competitive streak or energy came from, because if you know my parents and even know my family you'd be like, "huh?" My mom, albeit somewhat crazy and over the top about many things is pretty calm about stuff. I hear the occasional curse word or see the red angry face when I've pissed her off, but I've never seen her be mad competitive. My dad, probably one of the most business savvy guys I know and competes on a daily basis with other companies is the coolest cucumber. I mean during football games I call him to rant simply for him to collectively calm me down with his logical reassurances. So, despite these two references of sane, balanced parents how did I end up with the recessive gene of the incredible Hulk when it comes to my competitive nature?
I think it began in childhood. (That's when we all get messed up right?) Those great formative years where things become as innate to us as Pavlov's dogs and their bells. I remember growing up receiving praise for beating out my classmates and getting higher grades, I won trophies when I beat the other girls at sports, and I even received recognition when I competitively beat people out for elected positions. It was like my sick little high. Forget drugs, forget alcohol, forget sex, my natural high was winning...and winning with an intent.
So you're probably wondering, ok so ummm how does this transcend to relationships, which is what this blogging business here is about right? Guiltily and sheepishly, I admit that I probably kind of sort of treat relationships like competitive games. Trust me this was all subconscious up until I just realized it in the heat of my scarlet and gray Ohio State tears. (So please don't hurt me if you were a pawn...) Anyways, I don't think it's as malicious as it sounds.
But think about it. So often I've told myself that, "oh I'm just picky", or "oh I can never find a man good enough". I really think the point is though that I just got bored once I had a guy in my grips...it just became un-fun after that. The high was gone. For instance, first dates there are always those initial highs when you meet someone for the first time that you're attracted to. There's the baiting back and forth, the flirting, the sexy glances, the conversation and then bam! You got him! That's when I'm like NEXT! That's so messed up isn't it? Ok I'm disgusted with myself now...super. Not at least I can go to bed depressed AND angry.
It's like that old saying where they say with guys that the girl is just playing hard to get and that guys like that and stuff. Well I must be the opposite because for some reason I start lusting after those guys that play hard to get with me. And oh lordy, if one slips out of my grasp just forget it, I'm practically obsessed with winning them back. Maybe this is why I keep slipping back to guys that treat me like dirt, because it's a competition to win them over and to give that final "A ha! Gotcha!"
So, lessons learned so far this year. 1) Don't go to open bars on New Year's Eve 2) Bad decisions aren't always bad decisions 3) Do not wait on a guy to catch up to you, love fearlessly 5) Don't make a guy your best friend, unless he's gay and 5) Marry a professional athlete because he will understand your crazy bi-polar sports issues. Amen sista, amen.
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1 comment:
I am a sports nut as well... my dad gets mad at me when I call him fuming about the calls or about some stupid player. It's funny that my brother cares nothing about sports. I would agree with you completely about the thrill of the catch... you're like me... bored easily!
Miss ya girl!
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