Sunday, February 18, 2007

Brenda, Brenda, Brenda...

Long-time reader and dear friend of the Happy Hour, Brenda Love, posted the following comment on yesterday's post:

"The thing I REALLY want to know is....WHO SENT THE FLOWERS???? Even if it wasn't a guy that sent them... I sense romance is going to enter your life soon!"

Well to avoid leaving you all hanging, the flowers were from my darling mother. A kind of congratulatory bouquet. As for the romance... Well, I credit Brenda for issuing a comment which more or less forced my hand in saying what I have thought but not said since coming to the conclusion that I would be leaving Chicago.


Yes, you read that correctly. I don't even remotely want any romantic involvement with anyone here! ME! The closeted hopeless romantic, and cynically-hopeful champion for the cause of finding a long-term love interest, wants nothing of the sort!

And I will tell you why.

As you all know, I DON'T want to be here. I consider this hellish present situation an exile from the life of rationality and intelligence which I actually deserve. And while I know a great many people who are content to live in this sparrow fart of a town, I am not among them. This town is widely regarded as something of a black hole... It is VERY difficult to escape, and after six years in a reasonable, respectable place, a city where things actually made sense, and where there were no stop lights on the expressways, I thought I had actually fully extricated myself from the horrid gravitational pull of the spinning black vortex of idiocy. Apparently I had that thought a bit prematurely, got too cocky or complacent about my situation, and wouldn't you know it, I am back at square one.


(And to those of you still focused on one particular point I just made, YES, there are stop lights on the "expressway" here. And I'm not just talking one or two, I'm talking MANY, placed much closer together than any rational person would have them... Not that any rational person would put stop lights on an expressway to begin with, but I digress...)

The fact is that if I find love here, the odds are exponentially increased that I will never get out again! EVER. Let's not even mention the fact that the irrational and nonsensical thinking which goes into planning our city roadways is usually expanded outward into the overall thinking and general mindset of the VAST majority of those who choose to reside here. This would imply that I would have to dumb down my mental capacity standards in finding a mate. And personally, I prefer someone with the capability for abstract thought.

I don't mean this as an insult to those of you who live and love in small towns. Small towns have their charms. And I'm sure that you have every reason to live happily where you do. If logic holds any underlying truth though, I think that the fact that you appreciate the humor here, and are capable of reading and understanding complex sentence structure means that no matter where you live, you are not an idiot or a simpleton. I'm just noting that in MY small hometown, there is a certain marked complacency for being an idiot, and not wanting anything more. The person who originally coined the phrase, "Ignorance is bliss," was most assuredly talking about the people who happily live and die here. And despite being fully aware of, and completely embracing my rather sizable imperfections, I certainly don't count myself among those who are happy as a clam to reside here in hell... I am more like an oyster, one who is deliberately focused on turning the irritating grit that I must deal with into a beautiful pearl. (Preferably a rather large and highly valuable pearl.) The ultimate goal being to hopefully get that pearl into the collection of some wealthy city-dwelling socialite... I could even settle for it to be housed in a museum collection of precious stones, as long as it got me back into a real city.

Although, if my luck plays out much the same way it has my whole life, OF COURSE I will find love here. I can only pray with every fiber of my god-fearing essence that the person I end up smitten with is a a man who is also in a temporary exile from a more rational place. It's either that, or he's going to have to be perfectly ok with uprooting and moving to a real city to humor the need for sanity in his beloved, or this relationship will be doomed from the start... Though that whole "doomed from the start" thing would be my luck too.

Maybe I am just an idiot for hoping and praying that it'll all turn around one day.

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