I have several witty phrases or funny stories that I bust out on first dates. I tell the story about the airline pilot with the foot fetish to illustrate my friendliness and naiveté, I do my Jurassic Park spitting dinosaur impression to illustrate my fun, goofy side, and I use the phrase, "my personality is a lot like licorice, you either love it or you hate it," because it's true and also makes the fact that I often repulse people seem quirky to a potential lover--instead of like a terrifying red flag.
The fact that I semi-script out all my first dates notwithstanding, I think it's interesting not only how true the licorice comparison is, but also how I tend to gravitate to things that illicit strong responses. For example, I think the WORST thing someone can be is forgettable. I am more annoyed with people I meet at a party, that when someone mentions their name later I have to say, "who was that again?" than I am with someone who is loud and brash and obnoxious. So, with all that, it makes sense that I think it's much worse to have things in your life going "meh" than it is to have them falling spectacularly to shit.
Let me explain. When things are terrible, you can enjoy your misery. You can grab coffee with friends and bemoan how wretched your existence is, and have them murmur sympathetically. Or if you're really lonely, you can pull yourself up by the bootstraps and go to the movies alone, because, hell, your pride is already long gone so what are you clinging to? If you're tragically single with no prospects you can lean into the "Liz Lemon" spinster character and find humor in it. But if things are ok...there is no recourse. You cannot bitch or vent, because there are people starving in China who have it SO much worse, and you can't really rally or rebel against anything because the enemy isn't clearly defined. It sounds greedy to say, "things are ok but I want them to be better," whereas it's perfectly reasonable to say, "My life is shit, please make it stop."
And that's where I am right now. I'm rocking the house at my job, I love my family, I have good friends--but things feel lukewarm, and boring, and routine. Don't you feel sorry for me? No, I don't either. Because everything's ok. I don't have a case of the blues, and everything isn't coming up roses. Instead, I have...the purples, I guess. Whatever's between blue and red. And people can sing the blues, or they can shout their happiness from the rooftops, but nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to hear someone sing about things going "meh" or "eh" or ::shrugging motion::.