Something I'll Never Understand...

but have always been fascinated with: MOTIVATION.

Why do people do the things they do?

I like to think I have an innate perception, or intuition, for sussing out people's motivations. Y'know, all the little bits and pieces I learn about a person -- where they grew up, what their parents are like, ex-boyfriends, past jobs, tragedies and triumphs -- get catalogued into my brain and form a sort of open ended equation until one day I go, "Oh, I get it. That's why..." Kind of like the way Sylar on HEROES can look at the innards of a watch and understand what makes it tick. Except, the screws and dials of a person aren't tangible things you can actually see. Though based on facts, they only ever add up to a theoretical conclusion. And the conclusion is always a very personal thing. So, for instance, you can insist that you know the exact reasons why a guy won't commit but he'll never admit that you're right. Trust me, it's no fun being a know-it-all without the hard proof to back yourself up.

Equally frustrating is knowing, logically, the roots of your OWN motivations and still not understanding them. Exhibit A: ME. I don't get myself. Most of the time I think I get myself, but sometimes I'll turn around and, in hindsight, realize I had pulled the wool over my eyes once again. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. This is so true. It's not until after the fact that I can objectively see why I've done the things that I've done. I understand my past self perfectly. And I try to apply the same equation of adding the bits and pieces of my history to conclude who I am in this moment... I'm getting better at it. The gap between "Now" and "What the fuck was I thinking?" is shortening. But a clear understanding of my mercurial present self is ever elusive. I suppose it's a lifelong equation, then.

So, instead of writing about Something I Wrote or Did That I No Longer Understand (numero 3 on the memoir assignment list)... here are a few things that -- while I wish I had done differently -- I fully understand:

1. I ate a diet consisting 95% of Jelly Beans, Sweet Tarts and McDonald's ice cream cones for 75% of my senior year in high school. WHY?

This one at first seemed obvious. Walking down 3rd St. Promenade with my friend Natalie, I noticed 2 cute boys headed in our direction and checking us out. As they came into earshot, I heard one of them say, "Not her, the skinny one." By no means was I "the fat one." And it's possible he'd just said something mean about "the skinny one." But this moment was the catalyst. Years later, I realized it was more than that. One common denominator with anorexics is the need to have control over something in their life. Around that time, I was slammed by two events that I had absolutely no control over: My mom and I lost our house and had to move in with my grandparents. Then, five weeks into the semester, I was transferred out of my Algebra class -- in which I had the highest grade ever in my life for math -- into a class with a teacher who was notorious for failing students AND in the ensuing parent-counselor-principal meeting, I was basically told point blank by the principal that he couldn't give 2 shits about me. SO... I decided to control what seemed to be the only thing that I could -- the food that did or didn't go into my mouth.

2. I chose not to "walk" at my high school graduation. WHY?

See above. There was no way in hell I would've been able to shake the principal's hand and not spit on his shoes.

3. I dated a future Death Row convict who had Fidel tattooed in vato font on his arm. Yeah, seriously. WHY?

He was the sales manager at LA Fitness. He wore Hugo Boss to work. He was a charmer. I was 19. He was older and seemed sophisticated (he wasn't). I'd just had a string of boyfriends and I guess I felt like I needed to keep it up. This was the guy that ruined me for all future relationships. I'd like to say I learned my lesson... but my bad choices in men are a recurring theme. And could've been the main subject of this entry!

So, okay, I'm going to be lazy and make that the subject. Because there are a few others that I've looked back and thought: Really, Bianca? Really? The main ones being:

4. Chad aka The Gay. WHY? He looked like Hayden Christensen. He was kinda funny. And I hadn't had a boyfriend and/or sex for 2 1/2 years. Turned out he had weird preoccupations with Muppets and Disney movies and Hedwig & the Angry Inch and celebrities and compulsive lying. Everyone that met him thought he was gay. Hence the name.

5. Craig aka The Nottie aka The Loser. My most recent loss of sense. He was 34. And still an assistant with no real ambition. He was also: not cute, not funny, not interesting, borderline alcoholic, a heavy breather and had a little peen with saggy balls. Pretty much the only thing he had going for him was a black BMW. After dating a guy with no car, that was a plus. Look, I'll be honest, I was NOT attracted to him. But he seemed nice (at first). It was obvious he liked me. I figured... a guy like him would WORSHIP a girl like me. I needed that. I ignored all the red flags in pursuit of just being wanted and brainwashed myself into believing that I actually wanted to be with him.

Being wanted. I've done some things (okay, slept with some guys) that I've looked back on and wondered WHY? I'm certain it's some unresolved daddy issue. I am not a slut. That's not me. But I like to feel wanted. I want to feel loved. Yet I'm always flabbergasted when I realize I've tricked myself into caring about someone totally unworthy. I'll never understand how it happens. But at least I understand why. Now the matter of being able to recognize it before it happens again...