(My friends, Monica and Patty, and I were discussing life, men and board games last night at karaoke. They did their turn and blogged on this subject on Myspace, so I'm sharing my thoughts with you all.)
Guess it’s my turn to ruminate on the board game metaphor.
While Monica and Patty did a splendid job with the Monopoly concept, I tend to think of my life more in the terms of Trouble or Sorry.
Just when I figure I’m close to “home,” some asshole lands on my and sends me back either to the beginning or just far enough back to have to fight to regain my ground. And then the Pop-o-Matic rolls and sends me on my way again, trying to avoid assholes and find my way to my goal.
It’s just so appropriate in my life. I tend to want to set up my board game with strong, smart men who seem to know everything that I don’t – wow, that seems to include the current alleged object of my affection. I want to learn from them, I want them to help me grow, I want them to stay out of my way when I’m getting closer to home.
Unfortunately, these men always tend to be more ruthless players than I am and don’t mind landing on my head and forcing me to wait my turn until they’re done playing. I don’t wait my turn well. It makes me angry, depressed, frustrated and bitter. But I keep yanking out the stupid board, begging for them to play with me, hoping that maybe, just this one, they’ll take pity on me and let me win.
Done with that. My board, my game, my rules. If you land on me and I don’t want to go back to home, I ain’t going. Call it cheating, call it unsportsmanlike, I don’t really give a crap. And I don’t like what the Pop-o-Matic rolled, I’m just going to keep hitting that son-of-a-bitch until I get the roll I want. You’ll just have to wait until I’m done before you get your roll.
And when I am getting close to home – as I am now in my creative life – stay the fuck out of my way or you’re going to be the one sent packing. If you can’t give me the room and the cheers and the freedom to take my chances and follow the Pop-o-Matic, then you’re going to be sitting in that little line where you start for a very long time because that’s where I’m gonna send you.
And I realize when I finish this current game I am playing entitled “Cinderella Drives A Pick-Up,” there’s gonna be another game with another set of assholes trying to keep me from getting home. Some of them may be the same assholes from the previous game because I apparently am a slow learner. And I’m gonna start all over again in that little line, waiting for the Pop-o-Matic to roll me doubles or whatever the hell it is that I need to get me started on the path of another game. Maybe this time, it’ll be a team play kinda game, where someone will be popping the Pop-o-Matic with me and letting me take my turn first, instead of waiting for him to land on me.
Or maybe my life is Trivial Pursuit and it all comes down to who knows the most about meaningless crap. That’s appropriate, too, since that’s a game I actually do well at. Frightening.
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