Caterwauling

*updated*

Dave outed me … as a quirkyalone.

Before I launch into it, be sure to buy me some “bitter”-themed candy for Valentine’s Day at Despair.com. I think the “Dejected” set fits me more than the “Dysfunctional,” although I’m willing to listen to any argument (and eat the damn candy) if the latter seems more appropriate!

Anyway, back to the Quirkyalone personality type:

I honestly have little to add, other than the fact that the book is already on my Amazon Wish List. 🙂

The search for a kindred — clearly a fellow quirkyalone — has proven an exhaustive field trip through a labrynth of false starts and dramatic (sometimes premature, but always inevitable) endings.

My theory on dating is simple: I’d rather be alone than wish I were. Even at the time of year when coupledom is especially celebrated (New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day), it’s not that I’m thrilled to be alone, but rather, I’m glad I’m not with the wrong person. I’ve been with the wrong person. And I’m pretty impatient on that front — it’s impossible to pretend that all is well just for the sake of having someone to do things with (although simply having someone to DO has enough benefits in and of itself to make it somewhat worthwhile!).

I was thinking of having an anti-Valentine’s Day party (and dressing in black, as is my tradition), but I am surrounded by married or otherwise committed couples. Bleah. I’ve never really been the one who is half of a couple yet surrounded by single friends. It’s historically been the exact opposite. And you can get really tired of the well-meaning people who want to fix you up with someone or who otherwise lecture you that you need to get “out there” in the dating field. Most of it stems from the fact that, if they’re happy in a couple, well, you should be too (not an unreasonable sentiment, but a frustrating one nonetheless). And as the biological clock is smacked into snooze alarm phase for yet another undefined period of time, you wonder what you’re waiting for. But then you date someone who clearly ISN’T “The One” and you’re reminded of why you took a dating hiatus in the first place.

To make this personal, I have a really low body image, so I really don’t feel comfortable going out to bars to meet people when I’m surrounded by anorexic types in titty tops. Trust me, all eyes are on them bobbing around the dance floors. And when I meet somebody who piques my interest, I figure that they could never be interested in me, even though I have probably achieved more in the past 10 years than they ever will in a lifetime. Not to mention, but I’ve been told that I come across as a real airhead when I first meet people (said by someone who was clearly NOT The One).

But I’m not always wallowing in neurosis. The other side of me (I’m a Gemini, for those who are looking for an explanation of my wide range of mood swings!) figures, why the hell wouldn’t someone want me? I have a good (although frustrating) job, I have a social life, I’m not the slightest bit clingy and I’m very much of the attitude of showing you to the door if you think something better is outside of it. Damn it, I should be nominated for Woman of the Year, when I think about it! 😉

I just figure that this isn’t my time to shine. But when will that day come? When I stop looking to find that other quirkyalone whose quirks mesh with mine. But after I’ve spent nearly three decades collecting and refining those quirks that make me so lovably me, where on earth do you start (or continue) looking for someone who will respect, and ultimately complement, those idiosyncrasies? And will I learn to fall in love with their own quirks, or have I truly become the person I want to marry? 😉

UPDATE: Tink reminded me about the quiz results. Here goes:

“How quirkyalone are you? Your score was 125. Very quirkyalone:

Relatives may give you quizzical looks, and so may friends, but you know in your heart of hearts that you are following your inner voice. Though you may not be romancing a single person, you are romancing the world. Celebrate your freedom on National Quirkyalone Day, February 14th!”

*updated*

So Cruise Director sends out this long e-mail today, kind of like a presidential State of the Union address. He asked us for ideas to increase our membership. Both Shan and I, in offices across the building from each other, started mentally ticking off ideas, but then we each stopped in mid-thought and went, “Eh. Fuck it. They wouldn’t listen anyway.” The joke arose that he should have just told us, “Give us ideas so we can ignore them.”

So much for my positive attitude. Heh.

Met with my supervisor today. As usual, the meeting occurred 40 minutes after the planned start time. I finally told her that my time is just as valuable as anyone else’s, and if I have to be in meetings, then I want them moved to a different day. She looked stunned but complied. We actually went on to have a good talk about various issues that have been rather demoralizing lately, and she checked in about various things that she knows I have been internalizing. I was rather impressed.

Toilet Town is still in chaos. I went downstairs today to the very clean restroom (so. unlike. ours), and I guess Queen Pooper was in there, because in the accessible stall, someone sat very silently with her pants around her ankles until I finished my business and left. That’s how I know it’s her — she can’t void her bowels until the room is empty, and she won’t show her face till everyone’s gone. But the shoes always give her away. That, and the trail of skunk funk she leaves behind. …

UPDATE: Apparently Fudge CAN use any toilet. I had to use the restroom shortly after the last visit (evil Diet Cokes), and damn it if I didn’t think and went into *her* stall, whereupon she had left a lovely truffle surprise in the bowl. Yech. I hate her.