Disclaimer: This isn't really your good buddy Uncle Ted posting this week. Nope! You dear readers get to enjoy the musings and far more intellectual humor of his good-ish twin, Gilbert. Yes, I realize many of you never knew he had a good-ish twin, but it's true. I'm the good-ish one. Uncle Ted was off with one of his latest prizes and based on how much laughing he was doing, I don't think he's going to be paying any attention to me for a while, so I decided I was going to write this week's post. What that man did to piss Uncle Ted off is unknown at this time but I'm assuming it was big--there is a fridge full of blood bags for transfusions. That poor man is going to be down in that basement for a long, long time.
The other day, a dear friend of mine, Heather Hart, ask me to write a blog post about what moves my heart. Yes, she really did ask me that.
I assumed it was sarcasm. But the proper response to sarcasm is to follow through anyways as if it weren't. That'll show 'em!
But no, Heather is a romance writer. She's got a number of books and stories out. If you click on the link above it'll take you to her latest on Amazon. She writes about love in all the various settings and themes. And she wants me to write about what moves my heart.
And no, she wasn't talking about the jar I keep next to my bed.
Those of us who are less-than and too much like to avoid these questions because they seem like a minefield--one wrong word and that's it. Game over.
But no, she asked me what moves my heart and now I have to figure that out. I hadn't thought about it much.
I guess primary and above anything else is Emotional Trust. What's that? Emotional trust is when you know the other person isn't going to shit on you, deliberately hurt you, and is going to take into account your feelings when they do something. I need to know I can trust you.
That doesn't mean we tip-toe and sugar-coat bullshit. It certainly doesn't mean walking on eggshells. It means, I don't yell and scream. It means I respect you intellectually so if I need to tell you something I can do it rationally and not play on your emotions. Emotional Respect means I don't try to slip something past you using emotional triggers. It means you don't turn on the waterworks when you need something from me.
It's rare to find somebody who understands this. Emotional Respect is really hard to find. It's even harder to find a woman who accepts it and realizes that just because you're not screaming or ranting that doesn't mean you don't care. The emotions are there, you're just not weaponizing them.
Another thing that moves my heart (and oh how I wish she'd phrased this differently. Damned romance writers!) is fearlessness. And maybe that's not the right word for it. I'll try to explain.
When you're a creepy van guy and you write fucked up shit online, plus really insane fiction, people treat you differently. I look like an ax murderer. The purple hair only does so much. When women meet me they automatically assume I'm dangerous in that uncool sort of way. Not in that motorcycle-riding, break-the-rules, cliche. More like dangerous in that fight-or-flight response way.
It is tiresome to see a woman slowly back-pedaling while you're talking to her about some TV show she likes or asking what band she saw last weekend.
No, sweetie, I'm not going to duct tape your mouth shut and string you up by your heels in my cabin in the woods. You're just not that deserving. Don't flatter yourself.
Women who don't treat me like a monster with ulterior motives without knowing me always get my attention.
The final thing I can think of is this: let me get to know you before you bring sex into it. I realize that's a contradiction and for most men, it is. But for me it's just how it works. I cannot control this.
Most women thing they need sexual allure to get a man's attention. I promise you, if I'm talking to you and getting to know you better, then I am sexually attracted to you. Or at least I will be when those emotional chevrons stop turning and click into place like some stargate.
In my head, that's exactly what's happening, too. A big dial with weird symbols known only to me is spinning and once the right combination has been found, a big gate opens, and you get everything.
I know that sounds weird, but it's just how my brain works. I have a list of things even my conscious mind isn't aware of and once those aspects to a person have been found, the emotions begin.
Yes, it takes time. We're not talking about idle physical attraction here. Emotions aren't something that just float in the wind. I'm a Scorpio. I'm a water sign and we tend to reserve attachment until there is really something there and then the flood begins.
The last person I was attracted to rightly shot me down because there was something missing from the equation. I'm not sure what but there was certainly something lacking. It royally sucked, too. But it wasn't right. All the chevrons hadn't clicked. That didn't mean they wouldn't click. It takes time for me to get to that point. But they hadn't all clicked then.
Love is so special! Love is....
Disclaimer: I came upstairs to get a beer and to take a break while the asshole in the basement dwells upon his misdeeds. When he regains consciousness we'll get back to my motivational speech about how not to be an asshole on the phone. I've told him that once I release him back into the world I will fully expect him to be a better person and to not piss me off further with his bullshit. But when have I ever released somebody, huh? I'm sure he's thinking about what he'll do when I let him go and if that gives him hope, then so be it. The hope of a desperate man is the eggshell under my boot.
But about this emo crap my good-ish twin Gilbert decided to write. Seriously, man? Go write some poetry or something.
What moves my heart?
1. Be worthy of my respect. Don't live in the gutter.
2. A woman who wants to go on a killing spree with me will become my queen. I will watch you slash and stab your way through your enemies and gladly hide the bodies and clean up the DNA evidence behind you. Your demons and my demons will get along just fine.
3. Show me shadows I haven't seen before and don't run screaming from the ones I show you.
4. A woman whose comfort zone is in the darkness and will pull me in close so we can be together in that darkness will always find herself deep inside of me.
5. Morticia wasn't the awe of every man because of her curves, it was because she stood in the path of Gomez's love for her and never flinched. She never demeaned or tried to tame it. She knew her name was written on the tsunami and she claimed what was rightfully hers. Don't run from the icky feels. If you don't feel them, too, then so be it. If you don't want them, then say so. But never insult them because love is just hatred with a fistful of roses.
And now I can hear the asshole downstairs trying to escape. Good. Now I'm going to begin Chapter Two in my motivation speech. I will motivate him to not be such a sack of shit on the phone when he talks to somebody he hasn't met. Maybe later I'll play my favorite game--Pinata. That's when I hang him from his ankles and beat him until the candy falls out.
Have a good night, folks.
The other day, a dear friend of mine, Heather Hart, ask me to write a blog post about what moves my heart. Yes, she really did ask me that.
I assumed it was sarcasm. But the proper response to sarcasm is to follow through anyways as if it weren't. That'll show 'em!
But no, Heather is a romance writer. She's got a number of books and stories out. If you click on the link above it'll take you to her latest on Amazon. She writes about love in all the various settings and themes. And she wants me to write about what moves my heart.
And no, she wasn't talking about the jar I keep next to my bed.
Those of us who are less-than and too much like to avoid these questions because they seem like a minefield--one wrong word and that's it. Game over.
But no, she asked me what moves my heart and now I have to figure that out. I hadn't thought about it much.
I guess primary and above anything else is Emotional Trust. What's that? Emotional trust is when you know the other person isn't going to shit on you, deliberately hurt you, and is going to take into account your feelings when they do something. I need to know I can trust you.
That doesn't mean we tip-toe and sugar-coat bullshit. It certainly doesn't mean walking on eggshells. It means, I don't yell and scream. It means I respect you intellectually so if I need to tell you something I can do it rationally and not play on your emotions. Emotional Respect means I don't try to slip something past you using emotional triggers. It means you don't turn on the waterworks when you need something from me.
It's rare to find somebody who understands this. Emotional Respect is really hard to find. It's even harder to find a woman who accepts it and realizes that just because you're not screaming or ranting that doesn't mean you don't care. The emotions are there, you're just not weaponizing them.
Another thing that moves my heart (and oh how I wish she'd phrased this differently. Damned romance writers!) is fearlessness. And maybe that's not the right word for it. I'll try to explain.
When you're a creepy van guy and you write fucked up shit online, plus really insane fiction, people treat you differently. I look like an ax murderer. The purple hair only does so much. When women meet me they automatically assume I'm dangerous in that uncool sort of way. Not in that motorcycle-riding, break-the-rules, cliche. More like dangerous in that fight-or-flight response way.
It is tiresome to see a woman slowly back-pedaling while you're talking to her about some TV show she likes or asking what band she saw last weekend.
No, sweetie, I'm not going to duct tape your mouth shut and string you up by your heels in my cabin in the woods. You're just not that deserving. Don't flatter yourself.
Women who don't treat me like a monster with ulterior motives without knowing me always get my attention.
The final thing I can think of is this: let me get to know you before you bring sex into it. I realize that's a contradiction and for most men, it is. But for me it's just how it works. I cannot control this.
Most women thing they need sexual allure to get a man's attention. I promise you, if I'm talking to you and getting to know you better, then I am sexually attracted to you. Or at least I will be when those emotional chevrons stop turning and click into place like some stargate.
In my head, that's exactly what's happening, too. A big dial with weird symbols known only to me is spinning and once the right combination has been found, a big gate opens, and you get everything.
I know that sounds weird, but it's just how my brain works. I have a list of things even my conscious mind isn't aware of and once those aspects to a person have been found, the emotions begin.
Yes, it takes time. We're not talking about idle physical attraction here. Emotions aren't something that just float in the wind. I'm a Scorpio. I'm a water sign and we tend to reserve attachment until there is really something there and then the flood begins.
The last person I was attracted to rightly shot me down because there was something missing from the equation. I'm not sure what but there was certainly something lacking. It royally sucked, too. But it wasn't right. All the chevrons hadn't clicked. That didn't mean they wouldn't click. It takes time for me to get to that point. But they hadn't all clicked then.
Love is so special! Love is....
Disclaimer: I came upstairs to get a beer and to take a break while the asshole in the basement dwells upon his misdeeds. When he regains consciousness we'll get back to my motivational speech about how not to be an asshole on the phone. I've told him that once I release him back into the world I will fully expect him to be a better person and to not piss me off further with his bullshit. But when have I ever released somebody, huh? I'm sure he's thinking about what he'll do when I let him go and if that gives him hope, then so be it. The hope of a desperate man is the eggshell under my boot.
But about this emo crap my good-ish twin Gilbert decided to write. Seriously, man? Go write some poetry or something.
What moves my heart?
1. Be worthy of my respect. Don't live in the gutter.
2. A woman who wants to go on a killing spree with me will become my queen. I will watch you slash and stab your way through your enemies and gladly hide the bodies and clean up the DNA evidence behind you. Your demons and my demons will get along just fine.
3. Show me shadows I haven't seen before and don't run screaming from the ones I show you.
4. A woman whose comfort zone is in the darkness and will pull me in close so we can be together in that darkness will always find herself deep inside of me.
5. Morticia wasn't the awe of every man because of her curves, it was because she stood in the path of Gomez's love for her and never flinched. She never demeaned or tried to tame it. She knew her name was written on the tsunami and she claimed what was rightfully hers. Don't run from the icky feels. If you don't feel them, too, then so be it. If you don't want them, then say so. But never insult them because love is just hatred with a fistful of roses.
And now I can hear the asshole downstairs trying to escape. Good. Now I'm going to begin Chapter Two in my motivation speech. I will motivate him to not be such a sack of shit on the phone when he talks to somebody he hasn't met. Maybe later I'll play my favorite game--Pinata. That's when I hang him from his ankles and beat him until the candy falls out.
Have a good night, folks.
Awesome, LOL. I'll have to think of something else that makes your balls squirm.
ReplyDelete