Monday, November 19, 2012

The Internet

Sometimes I just don't know what to do about it when it comes to men and dating. I dated someone for a while who didn't have Facebook or even a defunct Linked In account and I have to say--heaven.

Then I dated a guy who was eager to be my friend on there, and then eager to tear me down for what I was writing or expressing, which for me is part of writing.

So I just don't know what to do about this Internet business.

Taking the things a lot of men I don't know say on here at face value becomes the scary, if entertaining, experience previously documented on these pages, and yet: I need to be able to do that. But the nature of the date machine seems to indicate it would do no good to include a house rule, though it's a sound house rule, such as "Personas need not apply and masks get sexy with me on the streets of New Orleans already," since enough people are operating on the premise that no one means what they say that it's become true in a sense, one of the many floating yet fixed cultural tendencies this article really lays out.

Hey, wait; are you still there? You're not picturing me on some Bourbon Street balcony right now, are you? I thought we were friends and that's in the small category of things you could picture me doing that would actually bother me on some instinctive level, maybe because I never hung out there when I lived there because why would I when there's so much else, or maybe because it seems like something the Amy Fisher girls from Long Island would do and being grouped with them by virtue of where I was born is some poison ivy and you don't know what kind: Drew Barrymore, sure, sans the psycho, but Alyssa Milano Amy? Eh. Also, so long as we're chatting and all, I don't flash for beads, or anything, because if you're seeing my breasts it's not because I want you to just look at them ahem and that all goes down in private, not in public (the vast majority of the time).

Shifting gears like an Audi, since this next tangent makes me sound sort of like an oldster, but I'm trying to be orgamatized with my main point, the uh internet, I haven't been involved in large-scale mainstream social media sites long enough for them to really impact my dating life and I don't much want to date anyone that takes it that seriously or, frankly, expects me to do any couples advertising, or declarations, or mugging, on the internet, beyond a few photos here and there. I'm grossly opposed to the joint couples profile photo in that I just find it gross. Most of the boyfriends I've had would also mock that, though I suppose some could be bullied into posting it...which makes one wonder if they meant the mocking...don't want to think about situational ethics right now, though.

Yeah, so dating used to be this regular thing I did. Then I marooned here, in NYC, where conditions are such that women talk openly and without shame about online dating profiles they wouldn't even have in other cities. And I could've maybe really moved to Phoenix to be with someone awesome I met in Vegas (Editor's rude interruption: Look, the number of women in long-distance relationships here is high--in the parlance of our times, I'm just saying), but didn't have a way forward there outside of him, then all these crises happened when I was still zombified from my Nola crises, with some of the new crises (men friends dying) pertaining to the old crises and then there's just this stream of bad dates and unexecuted escapes and hot men from Brooklyn, and leaving Brooklyn late at night, and a snowed-in television sound (winter). Now, on the horizon of a lease ticking out, I do feel the pull West.

Regardless of where I land, even if I just ride around in a van, which would feel preferable at this point, which is when I know I need to leave a town, I look forward to dating more--you know, like normal, like a poet who has expressed and experienced passions that lead her to chug deep breaths of relief in the face of the sadness emanating off internet collages.

Yes, there's been a lot of bad coldness from the males here in the old new millennium, but men from Brooklyn are fire, a natural candle in the wind thing, so I tip my tit* to them and only them, barring new developments, of course.

This, too, shall pass.

*I was going to say hat, but it's rare for me to wear hats.
Also, barring new developments is my new tagline for pretty much everything.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Why, Yes,

it is wrong to besmirch, Mr. President.

I have a few serious problems with this President (drones, I'm a leftist).

But I am very glad he is a gentleman.

It's refreshing in the face of so much...rot?


And regarding the question to Obama in that clip about Watergate-style hearings--no. First, that phrasing is a Republican fallacy this reporter shouldn't have cited even in his mind, let alone as part of his question to the President (or anyone). I'd like to just swap out all these reporters after their terrible and shallow questions--yell out "Next, next!" and bring someone else off the bench. They won't listen, but I'd run it. Benching these whiner question askers is justified on the grounds of violating the craft they're supposed to be performing, whatever it's been perverted into. These East Coast dudes have got to get with it. The Watergate hearings were also justified.

"But when they go after the UN Ambassador, apparently because they think she's an easy target, then they've got a problem with me. And should I choose..."

Better run, you old batty fools, who no reporter who's the son of an also-idiot faux journalist has ever said should step aside to make way for someone younger: Daddy's home!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Bad Medicine

"If you cater to angry white men as the foundation of your campaign, you will lose."--Nick Chiles


Thursday, November 08, 2012

In Follow-Up News

I'm drinking more even just being post-disaster adjacent,

when I'm more of a smoker;

it's a delicate balance.

The shrieking, vultures circling;

those who get ugly at your most vulnerable

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

This Just In, A Reminder:

If you think he's from Kenya,

I think you're incapable of reason.

Election Night

Oh, gawd!

This tension.

It's killing my uterus!

Thursday, November 01, 2012

2. Re: Online Dating

Happy Halloween!

Oh, look: a message from one of the dating sites I keep an active profile at, fruitless as that is, because I live in NYC, which has been--in unfortunate contrast to hmm, any other place I've ever lived as an adult--an utter dating desert.

Psst, NYC? I'm thinking it's you, not me.


I'm loathe to be rediscovered by this gent, who certainly strikes me as an active self-Googler, so I will just say here that his user name is given as: "That God Place In the Sky" Echo. Since he's modest and all. My only hope may be that someone really is saving me a seat in hell.

I guess my thesis question regarding whichever avatar male's photo is now all up on my in-box has become simply: Is this a functional adult?

After a while, that Internet bar falls, which one might argue could be an intentional managing down of expectations on the part of guys like this, who I have a hard time believing are all either dumb, socially clueless and/or man children, with the last one being the least appealing for reasons I hope are obvious. And my guess is "That God Place In the Sky" Echo falls into this category.

A part of me, a part of me that enjoys the strange and can get me into trouble when not kept in check, wants to go out with him just to see if he shows up in green face or just with green hands. Does he change the color every day? Did he date a woman who was only turned on by men in paint? I feel like he'd be in all spandex, probably coordinated with the face paint, and leaping around pretending to be his favorite superhero, at which point he'll have relegated most women to seeing him as The Mighty Eunuch.

Is it so hard to just say "Hi, I'm Steve; this is my face?" Do I need, in the middle of the latest global warming fiasco, to get an email asking me questions about Buddhism? Where did a guy get the idea that asking to see more of my photos was appealing? What am I, a trading card? Then again, this is sort of how a good number of women roll on Facebook--no judgments, but that's not for me. And I do feel the one photo is adequate for use as masturbatory material by total strangers.

I attempted to respond to a conversation initiated by a fellow who goes by "Lays1" online, but after his initial hello, it never progressed--because he didn't respond with more than a few phrases in any of his three emails, with one language snippet acting as a half-assed date invite, aka, "Plans tonight?" I guess I was supposed to just be wowed by his phraseology, enough to go meet up with a total stranger I know nothing about. Obvious safety issues aside, what's in it for me? Am the "1" Lays1 thinks is up for some "lays" or is "lays1" being used to indicate he only "lays1" woman at a time, or is it being utilized as a noun, maybe referencing those crumbly, paper-thin potato chips?

Sorry, buddy; I'm an Utz girl.