Hobbits Playing Dodgeball in Ultimate Randomness

Maybe it's just me, but I think I have a flair for titles. That one got your attention, didn't it? Yet, as always, the words aren't just for show. I plan on making a connection in here to both. So, since I don't feel like trying to dig the book out of whichever of the dozens of boxes in the basement it is in, I am going to try and paraphrase J.R.R Tolkien's initial description of Hobbits from "The Hobbit". Essentially, he describes them as appearing as human children from a distance, but only because they resemble men but are short in stature. What makes a Hobbit different, though, are many other things. Among those are feet covered in hair whose soles are roughened to the point of hardness. And instead of building their houses above ground, they burrow into hills and barrows and such to make their accommodations. But above all else, hobbits never go on adventures. They never seek out fame or riches. They prefer the company of few. They rarely do anything that someone familiar with hobbits wouldn't be able to predict. So, if I am reading this right, hobbits are short, hairy, prefer living underground nestled up, they are relatively boring and some, if you are familiar with this tale, are almost recluses, wandering out only in the direst of circumstances. Hmm, sounds like me. I guess you could make the argument that I am average height at 5' 7", and that Bilbo would not have been a social media follower and keep a diary for everyone else to read, but besides that, the description kinda fits me to a "T". I bring this up because the ex pointed out that I have become a bit of a hermit lately, even with her. Admittedly, I am not trying, but it can be somewhat uncomfortable being a nightly third wheel with your ex and her new boyfriend. No, she does not TRY to make me feel that way, but I do. So most nights I choose to slink away to my room and watch TV or play a video game (Saint's Row 2, at the moment). I am returning to myself when I was more comfortable being alone, which I am. Unfortunately, people like me need someone to drag them out of the house and make them social, like Bilbo had Gandalf. For a long time, that was her for me. She made me come out of my shell and not be so shy. But the shell was never gone. It just waited for me to come back to it and now, with little reason to leave it, I tend to stay inside. The most I poke out my head is to go to work, talk to friends occasionally, and leaving this written trace for others to find. I am not saying it is a fair thing to put that duty on other people. I should be able to put myself out there. But every time I have, I've gotten hurt and now, I feel like it is just safer to stay in the shell in terms of my physical presence.

So what about Dodgeball? Well, I was having some back and forth with a girl who I played softball with a few years back (not D). It was pretty much responding to various posts about where gentlemen have gone (I'm not sure anyone really knows anymore what the characteristics are because so many have been added that it has become muddled), and to how some people are such smooth talkers that they could sell ice to Eskimos (only if they aren't goofy looking, in which case most people would just laugh). It got to a point where she was talking about all the things she has done to lose weight and be happier with herself while still having a life. I responded that I gave in. No more pissing and moaning from me about stuff, I am too lazy for all the work I'd have to put in to fix myself and I would accept my life as a hermit and make due. Then I said I was half joking. I will probably never stop complaining about everything, but the rest was 100% accurate. Sadly, it's true. The amount of work I would have to do to fix everything to make myself more attractive to the opposite sex is just outrageous. I have tried exercising to get rid of some of my belly fat only to build muscle underneath it. Unfortunately, if left to my own devices, and I am sure at this point I am, I will become a shut in, at least until that heart attack happens in my 40s, and I am now a born again virgin, cause that situation is unlikely to change if I am having to make the moves necessary to attract a woman. So I guess at some point I have to accept that I am going to be alone the rest of my life because I don't have the strength of will in me to overcome my greatest enemy: myself. The conversation made me think of something Ben Stiller's character White Goodman said in the movie, "Dodgeball" : "You only have yourself to blame if you don't hate yourself enough to do something about it." And I have never been able to muster up the will to fight back against myself, so I guess I don't hate myself enough to change. That is supposed to be a good thing, right? Anyway, guess I better start working on that acceptance now because I don't see anyone coming to drag me out of my little hobbit hole ever again. The ex was the last opportunity. I can't expect that to happen again. Oh well...