jon sattelberger

What makes us human? Is it our will to succeed, to strive for better things or our overwhelming sense of emotions? I recently became into a predicament with someone who, like me, has trouble expressing emotions. It has got me wondering what it to express the emotion of compassion towards another human being is. Most of what I’ve come to accept as emotions have come from a wide range of systemic activities: movies/tv, books, limited interactions with people. Which in turn created the idea on how emotions, such as compassion, love, like, dislike and so on, should be expressed.

I don’t know what draws me to another person, but it seems to be facts that I admire about a certain person more than the person’s physical appearance. Sure they may be a beautiful butterfly in some sense, but if they don’t have a mind that matches or exceeds mine I probably won’t be interested. The skills they pocess are of much greater influence than anything else in this world that can make me go “woah.” Skills are what really impress me. For me, a person who is well versed in the sciences, has a creative sense is all it takes for me to attempt to talk to someone. However, I’m too shy to even get off my fat ass and take a step in that direction. But there is more than that even when it comes to liking someone. Like I said, one must admire certain aspects, and for me that is mixing the science with art. Two completely opposite poles. Even then I’ll be extremely shy. I’ll mind my own business and venture off thinking I’m not good enough.

Such an event happened no to long ago when I was at the dining hall on Busch campus the one night. This beautiful girl sat diagonal from me, but I wasn’t about to say anything. I was too consumed with being a food whore and worrying about exams. Sure enough in this small world a friend of her’s sits beside me and was like “SATTELBERGER!” Weird, eh? That’s how I met the girl across from me. Our friend was the bridge to creating another friendship. We then hung out a few more times, when I don’t know what I felt. I mean, she was nice, very pretty. Found out she was an Engineer, with a passion for art. That passion also was a gift, a talent. Then one day while she was visiting at work she hugged me as she was leaving. That action shocked me more or less. I haven’t been hugged by anyone in ages. That hug alone made me smile even though I felt awkward inside. Hung out some more, saw her over the winter break. Hell, I even held her hand one day while walking her back to her place and she didn’t pull away. School’s a month in, and I ask her out one night at the diner in the nerdiest terms ever: Networking. She said yes. However, like me, like all emotions, she was confused. I know it’s hard to express, but she’s not sure if she felt something more than a friend for me in the end. So I guess it ended, even so there might hope there. Everything takes time. That’s probably what we both need. I’m willing to take the time. Willing to step as fast and as slow as needs be. Who knows? Hours later from this event, I’m not even sure what to think. I do feel sad because if it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t be confused, she wouldn’t have been upset with herself. Just look at what I do to people. I’m not fit to express emotions with it obviously hurts and confuses people–people you ultimately begun to like more than a friend.

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It seems I caused quite a stir on Facebook with my last entry. Damn that Facebook RSS & Atom import tool. I love you guys! I do have to say I’m not all that interested in sex. You might as well leave that out of the system of equations for me. I just find it completely frustrating that I can’t get anyone to go on a date with me. It’s understandable if I over-do the putting myself down thing, but even when I do not put myself down they cancel. I do act differently around certain people. At least when I introduce myself I’m a calm (almost spelt qualm which is the exact opposite of what I’m being described as by others), quiet, and easygoing guy. I’m not all that “emo.” I really have to thank everyone who left a comment on my Facebook import. I’m glad all of you had something to say to help improve myself in becoming a more sensible man.

I do have good news though. I’ve lived in the same house for almost 22 years now. In those 22 years I never once had my own room. I’ve always shared my room with my brother or I slept on the couch.

Most of you guys know about my dad’s crazy addition that he has been doing for the last 2 years (going on 3 this fall). One of the first rooms to be completed in this addition was my room and bathroom. But I’ve never had the pleasure of having the room that was built specifically for me. My parents master bedroom was completed about a year and a half ago, but did they move into it right away? No.

Since my dad started the addition I’ve slept even slept on the floor aside from sleeping on the couch, while my parents used my room. Things changed about 4 weeks ago my mom finally ordered a bed that was nearly $5,000 dollars. It was one of those Tempurpedic jobs—form body conforming things with reclining abilities. It finally came in a week and a half ago. But as most of you know nothing ever goes right in this house. The guys who were responsible for setting up the mattresses did it wrong. As I sat on the bed to test it out for my mom, the bed collapsed on me. This is not surprising. Everything seems to go wrong for us. The company who my mom ordered the bed from had the nerve to tell us the floors were uneven in the new section of the house. After enough bitching they decided “okay, we’ll come down to fix the bed.” All they did was use the extra parts provided in the box of parts that they decided not to use the first time they were here.

Anyway, with that said and done my parents moved out of my room yesterday leaving me their old bed and furniture. Their bed scares me, and the furniture is something from the 1940s because that’s what they like. They like all the old wood work, whereas I could care-less about it. I believe it’s called the “soapbox-style.”  As for that bed, God only knows what my parents have done on that thing, and now I’m sleeping on it. Ew. I asked my mom sometime yesterday when I’d get a new bed… and she said “since we paid half your car insurance this year, not for a long time. Be happy you got your room after all these years.” That kind of suck, but oh well. Can’t argue now.

So it being the first night in my room, I found it to be uneasy. It felt completely unnatural for me to be in a room with a bed that didn’t hurt my back. I tossed and turned for the whole night. In the middle of the night I must have gotten up somewhere around 4 times to get water or even to just walk around. I wanted to go lay on the sofa, but my father was passed out on it. Figures. In the morning my mother asked me how I slept, I honestly told her horrible. I’m sure I’ll get use to it in time before we all have to leave to go back to Rutgers.

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