The overlapping irony

That awkward moment when my new little punk rock cutie pie was a fan of my ex’s old glam band V Sparks.  This city has the most incestuous rock scene.  Anyone I date or hook up with is two degrees of separation away from someone else I’ve dated or hooked up with.  Most of us find this amusing, though.  It’s not a problem.

There were a couple rough days for me after I didn’t get permanently hired at a company where I’d been temping.  But, I mean, that figures, because I’m totally doomed to go through life without any semblance of a career or monetary stability.  It was silly of me to ever think I’d had a chance.  I may be smart and qualified, but that certainly never matters to anyone in charge of hiring anywhere.

A friend of mine who’s going through a divorce has mentioned that I’d make a good roommate. And we’d definitely get on awesomely together because we have so much in common, like being cute and slutty and drinking absurd amounts of wine and making questionable decisions.  But I don’t think I’d be able to come up with enough rent money anytime soon, without going back into retail (because food service is 100% out of the question), and I really don’t want to do that because I’m not sure I can handle that much human interaction ever again.  Actually, I’ve been wondering lately if maybe I’m slightly autistic, and that could be the reason why I struggle so much and get so miserable in social situations.  It’s not simply fear that fucks me over.  The fear is there, but there’s also a total lack of understanding of what to do or say.  Once I do get comfortable (i.e. drunk) enough to chat, people always tell me I’m cool but weird.  Shrug.

So, that was a two-subject paragraph.

Since dating is kind of my main hobby, I talk about it a lot with friends, and the non-rock-and-roller ones always express concern over my love interests.  “He sounds like trouble,” they always say.  They’re completely right, because it’s not attractive to me when a guy has his shit together.  I prefer a starving artist who’s got issues.  I’d always suspected that, but it was really confirmed for me when I had that mad torrid fling awhile back with the uberheiss local singer who was a world of fun without a world of stuff.  A Facebook friend of mine posted today, “Rock and roll is about a lot more than just music,” in reference to those people who don’t live it 24/7.  I’m not saying I objectify self-destruction or serious, life-altering problems, because I obviously don’t want anyone to suffer.  I just don’t want to go out with any guy who’s not, you know, a total badass.  End of story.

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