Only this: Fatherhood proves the man’s ability to have sex and at least one woman’s desire for him to have sex with her. (Excellent news). However, unlike goldfish or other fabulous expiration-dated companions, kids are for life.
So… next question: is there a nanny?
Upon further inspection, I don’t think this guy, D, is crazy. He is quirky, that’s for sure. I like him.
In other news, there’s been a petty little thing bothering me. In February, I went on two dates with B. Nothing physical ever happened and there really wasn’t much chemistry. He came to my Valentine’s party, didn’t bring the garlic bread he said he’d make, and I never heard from him again.
Then after the party, a really close girlfriend of mine started emailing him because she said she wanted to have more male friends. Now they’re dating. When he first asked her out, she forwarded me the email to see if I was OK with it. Of course I said yes because I thought I should be OK with it even if I’m not. I’m not into him, but I do find this shady. Shouldn’t all exes of any sort be off limits? Full disclosure: Her most recent ex boyfriend contacted me on a dating website and I told him to take a hike. As far as I’m concerned, any man who can’t see how awesome my girlfriend is is dead to me. I thought this was a universal concept.
Anyway the reason I mention this is I was making out with my date, D, on the train tonight (classy) and B walked in. We did not acknowledge each other.
I wonder about this all the time. What it comes down to, really, is determining who is worthy of loyalty…. right? I don’t think it’s always a black/white issue. Circumstances come and go. So do men. And sometimes friends too.
1. I just fixed my dishwasher, completely solo. DIY projects no longer reserved for when my brother visits.
2. Mailed my completed tax paperwork back to the accountants. Early.
3. Bashfully adorable guy let me cut in front of him at the post office. He blushed. Love that.
4. Vacuumed entire place, put away laundry and week worth of wardrobe castoffs (those really pile up, don’t they?), scrubbed kitchen floor, and managed to join Greenpeace today. That was unexpected. How do you say no? I could not. I signed that carbon paper, chatted about ‘the fight,’ and watched my recruiter, Andy, scribble an orange crayon rubbing of my visa card if for no other reason than some part of me wants to support a person who absolutely radiates her convictions, walks her birkenstocks (truly, a birk-wearer) across the country with the confidence that she’s found a purpose for her life, and is enthusiastic enough to approach strangers in the street in the name of a cause. All with the pick-up line, ‘Hey, let’s save some whales.’ I guess I’m really just handing off that twenty-five dollar/month donation in exchange for feeling like maybe I’ll reach a point in my life where I feel that way too.
5. Recent grocery-buying fetish soon to culminate in world-class feast. Have donned apron, put on spicy latin jazz soundtrack, about to slice some cantaloupe/strawberries/basil. Yum.
Only snag in domestic domination plan seems to be that my dinner date has not called me back. I shall persevere. Just you watch.
"I just wanted you to know that Jeopardy used the jewel that is Showgirls as a clue in last night’s Championship episode. Clue:"One review said this 1995 Elizabeth Berkley film was "42nd Street meets All About Eve meets soft-core porn." Yep. Hit the nail on the head."
Pep Talk: What might you lose when you let go of conflict? Maybe repetitive negative thought, paranoia, tension, and victimization. What might you gain? Time to create, a safer social environment, a more mature self-image, and a glowing, wrinkle-free, turn-the-other-cheeky complexion. If you’re like me, sometimes your shadiness sensor has a hair-trigger and you’re fully prepared to shun even the closest of confidants for the slightest transgressions. Today, let’s be less touchy. Not every stupid comment or less than best friendly behavior has to start full on fight (and it certainly doesn‘t deserve any real estate in your head with a one sided imag-o-battle). You recognize that it’s not up to you how other people behave. Their behavior doesn’t have to bring you down if you let it go.
Today remind yourself: I’m free of conflict and light as a feather.
There might be some change on top of the dresser at the back, and we should check the washer and the dryer. Check under the floor mats of the car. The couch cushions. I have some books and CDs I could sell, and there are a couple of big bags of aluminum cans in the basement, only trouble is that there isn’t enough gas in the car to get around the block. I’m expecting a check sometime next week, which, if we are careful, will get us through to payday. In the meantime with your one-dollar rebate check and a few coins we have enough to walk to the store and buy a quart of milk and a newspaper. On second thought, forget the newspaper.
Bachmann essentially tries to nail Geithner to the wall over the Constitutionality of the AIG bailout. Bachmann must be confusing the Constitution with The Bible again. You know? The Bible where God says, “Thou shalt not be socialists,” and “The Capitalists shall inherit the earth.” Oh wait? You mean that’s not in The Bible either? Michelle must have picked that up at the School of the Completely Batshit Crazy, then. She certainly didn’t gather it from reality.
‘School of the Completely Batshit Crazy’ = auto-reblog
“Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good.”—Vaclav Havel (via affremblequotes)
…maybe because I’m mostly a non-fiction reader, or that when I do make the leap to fiction I tend to reach for more literary tomes, but right now I’m about 20% into a really fun entertaining exciting novel and it’s affecting everything I’m doing instead of reading more of it. The commute was too short. I didn’t take a long enough lunch. I’m going to read it all the way home and then never get to my laundry tonight because there are 326 pages left and I’m not going to be able to stop and then it’ll be over and something so powerful and prominent in one day of my life won’t be there the next and I’ll be looking to fill that void, or forget about it.
I used to dream in middle school (and some of high school) and when it wasn’t about girls it was about books. The idea of being able to watch movies and tv and videos on a screen in my pocket was ten years away but I fantasied that I’d be able to close my eyes and read (where my eyelids would be) the book I was in the middle of at the time. Nothing was more painful than putting away my book when class was starting and I’d sit there bored, occasionally reading from my lap, under the desk, wishing I could close my eyes and get back to the story.
This description is eerily perfect. I read by nightlight as a child. The result? Terrible eyesight for the rest of my life but a mental landscape far greater than any possible reality.
Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays. These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the country.
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
This is why I enjoyed reading and editing papers in workshops.
Proxies should pass these out to all the poor teenagers with primordial soup test brain. Spring is state-mandated graduation exam season, after all.
on a different note, i met a guy on saturday who asked for my phone number. as i replay the evening i have realized more and more that i should keep my drunk mouth shut. he knows i crushed on long island jewish boys in college, went on a date with super hipster from long island who turned out to be a colossal dick, i thought he was jewish, i want to do a story on boston being ranked a city full of ugly people, i didn’t believe he was 26 and that i ran through the sprinkler system by his apartment topless.
think he’ll be calling?
yeah, i didn’t think so either…
Feel ya, sister. Classic single-girl self-sabotage at its finest.