One of the reasons it’s been so difficult for me to find dates is because I don’t have a very active social life (which is to say, I have no social life whatsoever to speak of.) I used to have a close knit group of friends that carried me through high school and beyond college for a while, but eventually we began to drift apart for various reasons, until one day I found myself living the life of a loner again.

I was never one for attending social gatherings though so I could maybe gain some new friends, mainly because there were, well, people there. And I hated people.

Ok, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I hated them, maybe that I just didn’t get along…no I hated them.

Unfortunately, if I was ever gonna meet girls then I was gonna have to go where people were, sooner or later. With a mindset like this, it’s a small wonder why I was always holding out hope that I would meet someone at my job instead. After all, I’m forced to be here, and there were people here too, soooo….

For the longest time I used to entertain fantasies of meeting the girl of my dreams at work, so much that it started taking on a life of its own. I even nailed down what she would look like too: deeply tanned skin, big brown eyes, and luscious brown hair. She would be as sweet as an angel, maybe assigned somewhere close to me so we’d run into each other on a regular basis. Things would be strictly platonic at first, but before I knew it she would eventually warm up to me… and love would blossom out of nothing at all.

Out of nothing at allllll….. Out of nothing at… *ahem* but anyways, that’s how I imagined it. From that we would eventually become engaged, get married, and live happily ever after. Oh how I prayed and begged God that this would all happen for real. My fantasies here were so vivid that I could have weaved a cheap romance novel out of it. Probably could have made some cash from selling it too.

I had been churning over this latest fantasy of mine for a few months, when something weird happened: we got a new coworker assigned near us who had… deeply tanned skin, big brown eyes, and luscious brown hair. I swear you couldn’t make this stuff up. Our department doesn’t attract a lot of young workers to begin with, so just getting another coworker around my age would have been odd unto itself. She was a year older than me, but single and beautiful, and had a mellow, pleasant personality about her. In her previous job she worked with kids who suffered from various disabilities too. It was perfect! My dream was actually coming to life!

Except she hated me.

Well, she didn’t really hate me. She just had no interest in me whatsoever. I tried everything I could think of to woo her too, all in the futile hope that eventually, sooner or later, she would warm up to me in very much the same way her alter ego did in my fantasies. I kept her company when things got quiet during our late shifts. I helped her out whenever she needed to learn something about the job. I helped her find her keys when she had lost them and was freaking out over it, and at her request I burned dozens of her CDs into MP3s so she could use an MP3 player she bought for the gym (even though she didn’t have a computer). I changed my hairstyles, clothing, and yes, I’m ashamed to admit it, during my low points I even tried using TAG body spray (I’m suing those bastards for false advertising by the way.)

Yet despite all my efforts, when it came to asking her out to lunch, or even just coffee, she had no interest at all. The more she blew me off, the more I pined for her love. After a couple of months of this I eventually gave up. I decided I would continue being a nice guy as always, but I resigned myself to the fact that she would never be interested in me. I was just a pathetic loser who could never be good enough for her. My fantasy was not to be.

And that might have been the end of it, except that shortly afterwards she fell madly in love with another coworker, and within a few months they were engaged to be married.

My fantasies were coming to life after all… but for somebody else. Honestly, mere words could not convey the state of my emotions as I watched some little bastard boy enjoy what I previously could only experience in my dreams. Every day I had to come in to work and see those two nuzzling noses or holding hands at a picnic table (just as I envisioned it), and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs and stepping on the gas at a nearby red light hoping an 18 wheeler would plow into me.

The best though was when the wedding itself was soon coming up, and she asked me if I had any suggestions for wedding songs she could use. I ended up making a CD of what I considered to be my most favorite love songs, songs I probably would have picked for my own wedding too. From what I heard my CD turned out to be a big hit, though I wouldn’t know, since I wasn’t invited.

I’m not one for bitterness though, so here’s a toast to their new life together. May their imminent divorce be appallingly messy and violently ugly.

No seriously, I do hope they’ll be happy together, I guess. I don’t begrudge anyone getting married, but for the love of kindness, did it really have to F*&%ING play out EXACTLY like I imagined it???

When I saw that, I guess I went through something of a system shock. My feelings went numb and I succumbed to a state of deep depression. In a way, I had given up on life. I no longer took care of myself, no longer went out as much as I used to. My clothes would get worn and start showing holes, but I didn’t care. I started suffering from health problems, but still I didn’t care. It wasn’t uncommon for me to sleep for 12-15 hours a night, and even then I just had no energy to get out of bed at all. I used to be punctual and on time for work, but I became so lethargic that if I ended up being only 10 minutes late, it was a miracle. It was becoming a regular tradition for me to hit the supermarket the night before my days off from work, stock up on groceries and DVDs from Redbox, then head home and hole up in my bedroom with my tub of popcorn, TV and laptop, where I would stay unmoved in my jammies until it was time to go back to work again.

I became utterly convinced that God hated me. After all, He wasn’t going to simply ignore my prayers here. Nope, He was going to twist and twist and twist the knife in so deep that it would all but ensure my psyche would never recover from this. It was almost like He recorded my fantasies and decided to orchestrate it in real life so that someone else would become the beneficiary of it, right before my very eyes. I mean really, what were the odds of something like that happening, down to even using the same collection of songs I dreamed would be used at my own wedding? (Which I say at the risk of sounding like a weenie girlie boy.) About a billion to one??

Why? Why did I have to endure that? Why did God have to hurt me like this? I know I can be a wiseass and all who deserves to get smacked around every now and then, but this was bafflingly cruel. It’s part of why I’m so slow to get out of bed every day, because I absolutely dread what new punishment He might have in store for me. My pathetic life must be a source of constant amusement for Him.

But… and before you Christian dweebs start berating me here, let me be quick to note that I don’t really believe this now. I know there’s a purpose to everything, and I’ve seen enough to know that for whatever reason God is keeping me safe from a lot of the evil that’s in this world. I guess that goes to show what a foregone conclusion I must be, that in spite of the complete embarrassment I experienced, I still believe God c
ares for me and has only my best interests in mind. Maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome?

Still, this one really got to me in a bad way, and even now I’m still nursing the wounds. Just when I think I’ve put it behind me, every now and then somebody will stick a finger in the wound, like when I run into her and she talks about her “husband” (just hearing her say that makes me cringe.) Ironically enough, the most recent jab came from my mother, of all places. My Mom never knew I had a thing for this girl, even though she met her a few times at work. One time we had a conversation afterwards and Mom said, “She is SUCH a sweetheart, Linc! How come you can’t meet somebody nice like her? She would have been PERFECT for you!!”

Poor Mom. She had no idea why I ran out after hearing that and started ripping and chewing on the grass on the front lawn.

Ah well. I guess the only thing that will make the pain go away for good is when I finally do meet someone for real. It’s hard to imagine even after all that how I could still retain hope that somehow, somewhere, she’s out there waiting for me, but I do. I guess I’ll always be a romantic at heart, no matter how loopy I get.

I still fantasize about meeting her though. But trust me, I have learned my lesson. Now I imagine meeting her in scenarios that are so outlandish that they cannot POSSIBLY happen to me in real life, much less to anyone else. Currently I fantasize about meeting her as part of an undercover operation I’m doing for the CIA. Oh, and I have superpowers. And the girl of my dreams is an alien from another planet who gets captured by the U.S. government. We fall in love and I spring her loose, then steal the USS Enterprise starship and together we make our way to the Alpha Centauri system, where we spend many steamy, romantic evenings on the paradise planet of Gimmegoomajamjam.

Let’s see y’all beeotches try to turn THAT one into reality, yo!

In all my years on this planet, I don’t think I’ve ever kept a single New Year’s resolution. Doesn’t stop me from making them though.

Still, there’s something about the coming year that makes me think I may be in for something different this time. The number 8 is said to symbolize new beginnings, and man, after this awful stretch I’ve been in since the turn of the millennium, a new beginning sounds just like what the doctor ordered.

Here’s what I hope I’ll be able to accomplish in 2008:

1. Clear up my health problems and get strong again (vith ripplin’ mosscles to impress de vooomen.)
2. Generate a stable income of at least $1250 a month via my blog.
3. Get out of my dead end job and find a new career, whether it’s with another agency or by becoming self employed.
4. Move somewhere else, either out of state, or to nowhere in particular, depending on how successful I am in earning a living off the Internet.
5. Meet the girl of my dreams.

As you can see, I have very modest ambitions.

Even though my basic goals of moving and finding a new job are the same, they may be realized in different ways. I might settle for simply finding another job (possibly with the feds) and moving to wherever that new job might be, but ultimately I would like to be self employed, and earn a living by blogging and perhaps doing affiliate marketing online. Doing so would allow me to fulfill what’s been a growing dream of mine: to travel and live from state to state as a working nomad, where the road would be my home. I’ve never felt at home here, and the thought of being tied down to one job in one location for x amount of years is about as appealing to me as doing time on Rikers Island.

Besides, I’ve always harbored the suspicion that my dream girl was never anybody local, and if I were to find her I needed the freedom of being able to travel and stay anywhere.

So, will 2008 be THE year? Time will tell, but it’s looking more and more like my fate will ultimate hang on 2008. As for 2007, I bid good riddance to that crapola of a year.

See you all on the other side!

One of my Christmas traditions for the past few years has been to boycott the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” To this day I’ve never seen the film, and I have refused to do so until I meet “the one.” Every time I watch a movie by myself, I feel the dull ache of knowing that’s yet another experience I haven’t been able to share with that special girl. I wanted there to be one classic movie left over that I hadn’t seen yet, and only watch it for the first time ever when I finally have my beloved in my arms. I hope if I do meet her someday, she’ll understand why I made this choice, and why it’s so important to me.

Now I’m about to start another tradition. As an early Christmas gift I received a potted miniature Christmas tree, and I thought to myself, “I will continue to take care of this tree until I meet the girl of my dreams, and perhaps even beyond. This will be our future, special tree.” So as long as the tree lives on, my hope lives on. Of course, I’ll have to take the ornaments off after Christmas is over, lest I should look like a moron keeping a decorated Christmas tree around the place in the middle of July.

For now, I can only hope that these two traditions will see soon see their fulfillment, perhaps even as early as next year. In the meantime though, I must continue to play the waiting game.

But for the rest of you, I wish you all the very merriest of Christmas, and that your Holiday season be filled with joy and peace. God bless us everyone.

As each year draws to a close, I find myself losing more and more hope that I’ll ever find my future beloved. She exists only in a dream, her warmth and love such that only a woman can give was something I would never experience in real life. Any experience I’ve had with the opposite sex have instead always resulted in my heart being ripped out and torn to shreds.

But then something happened on Friday that infused me with a renewed sense of hope. It started when I received some white chocolate treats from a coworker, a pretty brunette I once had a major crush on, until she of course fell in love with another coworker and promptly married him a few months later.

“Wow, thanks Karen, these are great!” Then in passing I mentioned that while I liked white chocolate, dark chocolate was actually my favorite.

So she went home and made a fresh new batch of dark chocolate, just for me. I couldn’t believe it.

“Karen, you didn’t have to do this! I was just teasing!”

“It’s ok, I wanted to.”

I was stunned. This act of charity was truly unexpected and something I never thought would come from her.

Later that evening, I checked the latest video of TV Squad Daily, hosted by the stunningly gorgeous Brigitte Dale. I made a somewhat tongue in cheek comment a few days before asking her to sing a Christmas song, and to my complete surprise, she actually answered that request in her next video (beginning 00:34 seconds in):

Too bad she didn’t post my blog address though. Still, it was a much welcome gesture, especially coming from someone who is quickly coming close to taking the same throne once occupied by Jessica Alba. Ok, that’s enough dreaming now, Linc-O.

In any event, these two acts of goodwill went a long way in taking the bite out of what had otherwise been a stingy Christmas season for me. 2007 had been a terrible year, both health wise and spiritual wise. I needed to believe that better times were ahead, and I’ve been holding dearly on to the hope that 2008 will finally be THE year where everything will change, and where the identity of the mystery blonde will finally be revealed.

I still have a long and grueling road ahead of me though, and the outcome is still uncertain. Yet these two beautiful women collectively gave me the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for: hope.

I thank God for this renewed sense of hope and purpose, as it carries me through this Christmas season and into the dawn of a new era.

A few years ago, I had a really vivid dream where I briefly met… the one. I was sitting in a Subway restaurant when all of a sudden she just appeared, sitting across from me and holding my hand. I couldn’t see her face too clearly, but she was thin, had long blonde hair, and a beautiful smile. I knew I was dreaming too, which for me is very rare, in fact it may have been the first time I was ever aware that I was in a dream. I could feel myself waking up too, and I held on to her hand desperately, not willing to let her go.

She continued to smile at me, her face at peace, her fingers interlocked with mine, and promised me that I would see her soon.

And then she was gone.

Usually I dismiss most of my dreams as being sheer nonsense (including the dreams where I’m Spider-man), but because this one was so vivid, and because I knew I was dreaming, I have to wonder… was she real? Does the girl of my dreams really have blonde hair and a gorgeous smile? Will I meet her in a Subway restaurant someday?

I do know one thing: I’ve made Subway a WHOLE lot richer now ever since I had that dream.

It’s true though, and since I’m a romantic at heart, I make a point of stopping by every Subway joint I come across, just to see if there’s a cute blonde inside snacking on a veggie sandwich.

The other day I got into a discussion with a friend of mine about who the new object of my affection should be, now that Jessica Alba has broken my heart. Of course he suggested that I knock it off, go to church and find myself a nice, morally upright Christian girl to be with.

Interestingly enough, that same night I had a dream: I was talking to a guy I knew from work, and he was telling me about a church I should join that was soon planning a revival meeting. Then he introduced me to three girls wearing skimpy bikinis who were also members of that church. They were all ready and willing to, um… take care of my “needs,” you know, in the spirit of true Christian fellowship and love. Hot looking babes too.

Well ok then.

Seriously, I’ve heard of churches being seeker sensitive here, but that was just silly. I remember being too bewildered to give a response to this, but I did know no way in hell was I gonna go for this. For those of you wondering how I could be so stupid to turn down the offer of getting knocked up by three chicks (for free), the reason is simple: I have morals, you don’t.

The dream did represent one or two things to me: either it was a warning on the state of Christian churches today and how I was being right to avoid it, or it was a manifestation of my acidic hatred for any association or group that has the word “church” in its name. Or maybe both.

In any event, I really would like to believe that by being in a company of believers, I would eventually come across a wonderful girl who would be the “one.” Someone who would truly love me for who I am, who would end up being the better half that I’ve been searching for all my life.

I would like to believe that. But I don’t.

Out of boredom and curiosity, I decided to do some random web surfing (via StumbleUpon) by using the keywords “girl of my dreams.” As a result the very first site I was taken to was the Global Incident Map for terrorism and other suspicious events.

Somehow, I don’t think StumbleUpon will prove to be an effective tool in helping me find my future snuggle cakes.