Chelsea-ness

I think on some level we all have an intrinsic set of traits that make us who we are. Mostly I believe that your traits and personality are heavily shaped and influenced through experiences, and to me, experiences are always different to each individual, as in no two people experience the same event in the same way. Although we can share similar traits, personalities, likes, dislikes and experiences with other people, no one ever has the exact same trait set as you.

You are unique.

I have come to find out two crucial things about my uniqueness: my uniqueness is my "Chelsea-ness" and that my uniqueness is maybe not as special as I once thought.

First of all, I would like to state that if I am being completely honest, I not always 100% sure I know who I am. I feel like at this time in my life, who I am changes daily in subtle yet paramount ways. I am constantly making choices that shape or shift my perspective, making me redefine my reality. So to say that I know exactly what my "Chelsea-ness" is not a whole truth.

Which is why having people in my life refer to my behavior and personality as my "Chelsea-ness" is disconcerting. Because this implies that obviously they have an encyclopedic knowledge of me and what makes me tick. Yes, I know that we are creatures of habit and that I will repeat behavior and it's not likely that I'm going to stop liking ice cream or collecting pigs, so it's fair to say that if a friend was posed with a question like, "Would Chelsea have a one night stand with a complete stranger?" they could make a nice educated guess on the answer. But acting like you've spent years studying me and my nuances and inner workings, and wrote a book entitled "Chelsea-ness" based on your research is crossing a line.

This just so happened to happen to me twice in my life. I had a guy friend talking to me about guys hooking up with me. I was lamenting about my lack of suitable, serious suitors and how it always happens that I am the second choice for guys. That I am always the girl on the back burner that boys feel the need to pull to the front burner once they have been burnt by the girl they really want. This was also they way I was feeling about a current turbulent relationship I was in. Now, obviously there are some bright marker flags in this. I would say that in my relationship with the one guy I was seriously letting myself be the back burner girl. I was so convinced I was in love with him, that I was willing to just be that stand by, answering his calls for booty calls and being his emotional outlet when he felt he needed me. I guess I'm just saying that while I was lamenting and complaining, I knew I had some responsibility in it. The other situations weren't as true. I just always found myself being the side kick that gets the side action to best friends.

After I explain my side of it, my guy friend proceeds to tell me that's just my "Chelsea-ness." I make myself available for guys to fall back on. You can imagine how excited I was to hear his evaluation of me. I was pissed. This "friend" was basically telling me how I was just the type of girl that would hook up with any guy who throws attention my way, an easy target so to speak. Intrinsically, I was a slut. All this coming from a guy who was guilty himself of constantly putting me on the back burner and my best friend on the front burner. I think some of his flawed reasoning rang true, I do tend to let people walk all over me. But, I didn't agree that was what defined me as a person. That is not what I would call my "Chelsea-ness."

Then there was a best friend from high school. We were talking about how I feel like guys, whether they really know me or not, just seem to think I am some sort of nympho. A Cosmo junkie. I was telling her how it's hard for me to even attempt to date when I feel like men look at me and think "easy" and "sex." Since I felt this was a pattern in my life, I asked her if I did something or acted a certain way that would imply this. She explained to me that, no, I didn't exhibit any set patterns of behavior that would lead one to assume that I am a porn queen who is DTF 24/7 and capable of fucking your brains out. Yet, that was just part of my "Chelsea-ness." That having guys assume I am some sort of trollop is just part of my being, something I just ooze out my pores.

Again, I was flabbergasted by her response. I do not in any way think of myself as a sex kitten or even sexy. How was this something I just projected when I wasn't even aware of it? Where was this fuckable aura coming from? Especially since at the time this conversation took place, I had yet to have sex with anyone.

Then there's the unsettling fact of learning you are not as unique as you thought you were.

And the worse person to find a doppelganger in is your ex's new boo.

So I am going to fess up to some embarrassing facts. Come clean, so to speak. With this new lovely age of the interwebs, Twitter and Facebook, stalking people has become an easy task. I think anymore it's even kind of expected. Of course when my ex starting dating this new girl, I felt the need to stalk her, take part in that ever self-loathing tradition of sizing up the new girl and comparing her to yourself. Finding those differences that make her better dating material than you and searching for any reason to not like her, anything you can count as a flaw. Usually you find big differences to latch on to; She likes to extreme bungee jump and you like your feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much. It's almost a ritual to move on. This new girl is something you weren't, so you can understand why he is with her. Yet, what happens when you're stalking doesn't reveal differences, but samesies?

The result is some serious frustration and self-doubting, my friends. This new girl likes the exact same shit as me. In the beginning it was just kind of coincidence. We're both college aged girls, so it's not that surprising with both enjoy the same bands and enjoy Twilight. And it's not that strange we were both English majors or that our favorite books just happen to be Jane Austen books and the Jessica Darling series. Or that our favorite TV show is Gilmore Girls. These are easy to see as something I could have in common with most girls my age. Yet, once I stumbled upon her Twitter, things got weird.

She has a blog that deals with love and dating. Now, that's not weird in and of itself. What is weird is that the very first post is about Dorothy Parker and how much she enjoys her, which is my first post, too. And that the way we word things or phrase things is oddly similar. Or how when I started reading Hunger Games she was reading them, too. Or how when I dyed my hair red, she did, too. Or how she is a serious bibliophile that enjoys cardigans just as much as I do.

Okay, so obviously I became a bit obsessed. Can you blame me though? I was seriously just weirded out that this girl was so much like me. Everything I thought was unique about me, that made me who I am, was also manifested in this girl. And this girl just so happens to be dating my ex, and that I think kept me digging. I had to find that difference, that thing that made her better than me since we have soooo much in common. Pathetic, I know.

I guess lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about my "Chelsea-ness," which is what brought all of this up. I've come to realize that I let what other people think of me weigh heavily on my mind. I've also come to realize that there are people who are basically the same as you, but in the end, you are still unique.

Despite all of the similarities, you've been places and done things the other person hasn't. And despite what other people think my essence is, I am the one who defines who I am.

It's just too easy to get loss in the abyss of what you are or who you are. Relinquishing the power to some sort of maelstrom of judgements, perceptions, expectations, histories, experiences, other people. I do this too easily. Get tossed around, banged up, dwelling on stuff like that. Drowning in the overwhelming fear that I'm never going to be someone I'm proud of or sure of.

But on days like today, when I get some perspective, I can take some power back. I'm still going to come out with some bruises and heartache, but it's what truly makes me a stronger person.

Because after letting myself drown in misery, I come out with a better understanding of myself.

And if you're wondering, for me, my "Chelsea-ness" is best understood through this blog; A girl who can be completely honest and completely cynical, but copes with life through ice cream, literature, sarcasm, self deprecation, and small spurts of optimism.

Love Wears Sunglasses

Love is famous for being blind. Look at art through the ages and you'll find little Cupids with blindfolds flying around with bows and arrows. Which sounds super dangerous, and you would think those Cupids would fly around and hit things, but I guess they must use some sort of Sonar like bats to navigate. But, I digress.

This phrase is used to comfort us. We are helpless victims to Love. It picks and chooses on whim and without reason or rhyme. We get shot in the heart with a painful arrow and when love moves on and the arrow is pulled out, you're left with a damaged, bloody heart. Not much of a comfort really....just more of a fact. And my pessimism doesn't shade that at all.

So here's a question, if Love is already blind, why do we have a tradition known as Blind Dates? Isn't that just begging for disaster with all this not seeing and not being able to see in front of you? Two blinds don't make a right. Or a match.

I know they're called Blind Dates because you don't know the other person or, at least traditionally and with no thanks to Facebook, don't know what this other person looks like. He or she is a sweet person, who is PERFECT for you. A friend of a friend, and they just KNOW you'll get along. You have so much in common! And he or she is soooo cute! So, you're going in without much knowledge. Just the over enthusiastic praise and building up from your friend who appears to be already planning your wedding for you.

But, in this case, Love was not blind enough. Or deaf enough. Because this other person is not you're type of cute and not perfect for you and just not for you at all. The conversations are strained and you just go through a horribly awkward experience.

I've only been on one Blind Date. Our mutual friend thought we were just perfect for each other. A match made in heaven. He was cute, but that was about it. Our views were polar opposites. He was rude. He turned every conversation into something about him and how totally awesome he was. At the end of the night he felt it necessary to explain that he would not be kissing me goodnight. Bleh. And to make the whole experience even better, when my friend asked him after the date who it went, he just replied that I was pretty, but too shy and weird for him. All I had to say was that we just didn't connect, but I was happy to hear that in our limited time together he was able to put me down. Definitely wish this could have been Deaf Date.

Then, there was this almost Blind Date. When I was back home after college, a high school teacher of mine knew of a single man looking for a single lady. Of all places, she asked me over Facebook if I was single and then told me she was going to set me up with this guy. I tried to think of good reasons to deflect, but honestly, she told me he had a college education and for being back home, that was enough for me to be interested. So I agreed. My high school had a play and there is a dinner before it. That was to be the magical night I met the ONE.

The night of the date came. I wasn't super excited, but I guess we (and by we I mean me but like to say we so I don't feel so desperate/pitiful all by myself) all get to a point where what we are doing isn't working out, so we might as well accept the help we are being offered. Well, I get a message (over Facebook) that "he got sick" and wouldn't be able to make it like...maybe 30 minutes before this was all to go down.

Seriously, who gets cancelled on on a blind date? It's like the ultimate slap in the face. In a normal date situation you usually meet the person, then make an educated assessment on whether or not spending time alone with that person would be worthwhile. Even if you originally agree to such an engagement, you know that if upon reflection you change your mind, you can cancel. On a Blind Date, you don't know anything about the other person. I guess what I'm saying is that I felt even more worthless as someone who had never met me felt it necessary to cancel a date on me. As if he could just sense my lack lusterness. I think maybe he peeked under the blindfold Love offered.

The reason I am dwelling on all of this currently is because this situation appears to be presenting itself again. A friend is wanting to set me up. The typical assurances of the other party's amazingness have been stated and restated with real life examples. Although he already has a hurdle to overcome as he shares the same name as my ex.

I am faced with a choice: To Blind Date or not to Blind Date.

Again.....I'm just at a point where it's almost a resignation to why the hell not? I am not making any progress as sitting in my bed on Saturday night writing in my spinster blog shows. If Love is truly Blind, who am I to scoff at it? Maybe Blind Dates, although typically awful experiences, are just part of the game. Who knows. Maybe this guy can be amazing. Just the guy for me. The odds are always against you in Love, so there's no good listing of the probabilities that show this date will not result in the one.

So, I guess I'll say yes. Just let the blind lead the blind. Give Love a chance.

Or Facebook stalk the shit out of this guy before I say yes.

Hey, Love can be blind all it wants, I just choose not to be.