I volunteered to chaperone a dance last night for my schooltown's (as opposed to my hometown) youth community center. It was virtually all middle school kids, and they thought it was more fun to stand around and complain, text each other (when they were in the same gym ... I just don't get it), and try to touch the bottoms of the basketball nets. My friend Holly was also chaperoning, though, so it could have been worse.
Holly and I knew we would need to go get a drink after the dance ended, so we texted our friend Harry and he agreed to meet us at the restaurant where Holly's husband bartends. It was pretty low-key, but it was nice to hang out with my friends for a bit.
Anyway, I got home and I could not sleep. It was just totally dreadful. I'm an old hat at insomnia, but last night was rough (if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you can see how unpleasant I was at one in the morning).
I tried all the tricks--deep breathing, relaxation techniques, shutting the light out, keeping the light on, getting an extra pillow, and so on. It was far too late for pharmaceutical assistance considering that I had to get up with Belle, so I finally just put on my iPod and listened to music.
Worst mistake ever. Now, I love music--it is, in fact, one of my favorite things in the world. For some reason, though, the playlist I had going was heavy on some stuff I don't want to admit having on my iPod, but I guess I need to in order to get this post back on track. We're talking Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love", Howie Day's "Collide", Boston's "Amanda", Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U", just embarrassing schmaltz like that. It's like my iPod was trying to depress me or something (I did put on the Barenaked Ladies/Chili Peppers/Dave Matthews Band playlist, but it was of course too late by then).
I posted recently about logistical challenges faced by single folks, but last night I got hit hard with the, "Everyone else in the world is happy and with someone and you are alone" pity party. Not a good place to be.
I don't normally go into detail about certain parts of my life, and dating is one of them. Just because somebody hangs out with me does not mean that he should be blog-fodder. The sad thing is, though, that I can pretty much generalize that my dating forays over the past year have involved a) men who think they will get sex on a first date (I don't pretend to be a saint, but this is really almost comical), b) men who drink a lot of alcohol (not that I'm against alcohol, but it's just kind of a collectively large--and therefore noteworthy--amount), and c) men who really don't know what they want out of life. Oh, and let's not forget d) men who are married but still think you will give them sex because you went to high school together or you know their parents or whatever.
Where are the men who are nice and normal? Do they exist in the year 2011? I'm convinced they don't in the northeastern United States, at least.
Bottom line, I am tired of being alone. Last night, when Holly was joking around with her husband about how she wasn't leaving him a tip because it would be like him tipping himself or when Harry was talking about his girlfriend pulling the grays out of his hair when they're in bed at night, I felt lonelier than I've perhaps ever felt in my life.
Man, I need to listen to something uplifting next time--Nirvana, maybe, or Seether. Heeheehee.
Oh, and if you want to make me smile, enter my very cool giveaway :-)
