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OK, so I went to the page where it shows you who's been ch-ch-checking out your blogue and beside some people's monikers there is an ... eye. (Curiously, though, not others ... hmmmmm.)
Now, it could mean that they have me earmarked as one of the blogs they read ... or maybe not.
There's been ch-ch-changes in these streets since last I was here, and I may be a little out of touch with the progress round these parts as of late. If this is much covered territory then pardon my inquiries, y'hear (ptooooeee - that's the sound of ma tobacco spit hitting the ground).
So, uh, what's with the eye? And are there new fun features?
I'm guessing, though, that this post will still take a while to be visible and the accompanying picture may, or may not appear. Some things never change.
(And yes, by the, way, Rockwell is so totally my new boyfriend. Love that look.)
I believe that we all have our peculiarities. It's what makes us unique (or, should I say, 'singular' ).
Confucius say, "the more we can take a step back and look at what we perceive as others' weirdness as just a 'peculiarity' then the happier we'll all be. As part of this we must acknowledge and be aware of our own."
(First up, I'm totally pathological and make shit up to make myself appear more erudite than I am. Hugs! It's a 'peculiarity.' )
I require acknowledgment that borders on praise when I do something useful/helpful/worthwhile. OK, maybe not 'praise' necessarily (though I loves me some praising, woot woot), but acknowledgment or a pat on the back puts me at ease. I like to feel appreciated, otherwise I feel undervalued, which can lead to stewing and paggro (that's Madame-speak for 'passive aggressive' ) behaviour. I'm also pretty non-confrontational, so the paggro has the potential to get really stoked. Gotta love individuality ...
The Madame is also really sensitive/aware of the tone in which she is spoken to. Sometimes I have no sense of humour and will 'hear' things as quite literal - your intended witticism will just rub me the wrong way. And then I'll hate you. I'm really into pleasantry and try (though may not always succeed) in conveying that as much as possible when I want to get what I want. I figure you're more likely to get what you want by being friendly (say, at a restaurant) than being a dick.
Lately I've started to just remove myself from situations I don't want to be in. Sometimes the vibe is no good for whatever reason, and rather than putting or leaving myself in said situation I'm more apt to just excuse myself from it. I had someone tell me that they did the same thing - this person described to me a 'pathological hatred' he felt his sister had for him since his birth, and rather than try and stomach awkward or tense social gatherings would often just cheerily say he was 'stepping outside' for a moment. He said that worked for him and I've started to adopt it. If I was a different person maybe I'd have the gumption to say to someone, "hey, ___ is really bothering me, etc., etc." Rather, I am of the opinion that I'd much rather strategically pick and then win my battles - I'll only make the effort to confront when either a particular nerve is touched (aka a knee-jerk reaction) or when the bother is otherwise acute. Ultimately, though, I suppose this means I am oftentimes more willing to engage with others when I want of others, preferring to cower when the engagement is wanted of me. Ha, ha, ha ... I should call these my pe-cute-liarities, ha, ha ... ha.
Ahem.
I'm really bad at contrition and faking sincerity. I figure it's because I'm just that sincere and real, so I can pretend to ____ if I really feel ____ very well. I mean, sometimes I can but I'm not that into disingenuity I guess. Maybe I'm just horribly defensive and have an inflated sense of self (echoes of a bewildered, Miss Piggy-esque, "moi?!?!" resound) that barr me from feeling contrite. Like Mary Poppins, I am "practically perfect in every way".
I have a fvcking long memory. My burn is slow, the chips on my shoulder(s) make Bryan Adams' face look as smooth as the arse of a newborn babe.
That being said I do make an effort to see the best in people and weigh individual peculiarities against the balance of a persons' (potentially) greater good. I'm often told by others' that they admire my patience. I'd like to think I'm pretty compassionate - driven by a sort of neurotic empathy.
Recently, someone compared my blogue (and, by extension ... me) to Waldorf & Statler, those two old men that critiqued (and took the piss out of) whatever was happening on stage during The Muppet Show. I decided I'd accept this comment wholly based on this person's annotation that I am always, naturally, correct in my assessments.
Intercepting this uncannily objective observation comes my own personal mental game of, 'Is He Fvckable.' This (by now) involuntary thought process happens regularly upon seeing or interacting with men. There is a certain sliding scale that I have yet to qualitatively define ... it is, after all, a work in progress.
For the record, I would not fvck either Waldorf or Statler.
There are a few considerations that are part of my thought process.
There are definitely men I know who I would consider fvckable but would choose not to fvck, based upon certain incidentals. Like they're married. Or even, say, married to ladies I know. And enjoy. In reality, I'd never consider actually boning said person but this alone does not necessarily render them unfvckable. (That being said any man who has ever 'been' with someone I know is sort of automatically rendered an untouchable. That's just a given.)
Some men, even ones that are considered attractive and not at all hideous, are automatically in my unfvckable list. Jay Leno, for example. I would definitely not want to get him all up in my grill. Jimmy Kimmel, I suppose, I would bonk ... I guess. He's on the fvckable side of the line, but only just barely. I'm really put off by Sarah Silverman's description of his crotchial area smelling like her grandmother's beef brisket (this was during the Friar's Club Roast of Pamela Anderson, I believe. She may have been joking but then again ... maybe she wasn't). Conan O'Brien, though, would be a way-lay. That would be awesome. I'd totally have s5x with that guy. I think he'd be a blast (figuratively and literally). I'd also do it with Arsenio Hall, for old times' sake ... to giddy up my inner 12 year-old self. David Letterman. though, that's a tough call ... I'd definitely pick him over Leno, I mean I think it would be awkward but I'd pull through. We could bask in the after glow of each other's self-deprecation (as opposed to self-defecation). Howard Stern ... I don't think my ego could handle. He would either be really nice or brutally honest, either way I think it wouldn't be fun and I'd just not be able to relax at all. Then again maybe he's charming, hard to tell. Ultimately though I am guessing his predilection for what I can only imagine is maximum freakiness would probably just freak me out the door. I think he might actually be a really good lover though, I could se that. So maybe I would make the fvck with Stern just to see what it was like, but he's not really in my top tier.
And no, this isn't limited to celebrities. But obviously, yes, they come into play a lot.
Especially last night, as John Cusack was on The Tonight Sow. He's like man mafia ... every time I think I'm over him, he just pulls me back in. My imaginary lust-affair is routinely tempered by those naysayers who like to throw their "I've heard he was a jerk and did ____ one time" story. I suppose this would be my biggest conundrum ... if given the opportunity to be with my ultimate imaginary lover and he actually turns out to be kind of a sh.i.thead. Would I back down or go through with it ... just to see?
Hey, coolio ... I disappear for a while and then when I return get treated to what looks like some neat-o, new diddlydads. Like profile pictures that accompany every blog entry in the dreaded 'list.' Kewl. So, now, I can forego completely skimming new entries in hopes that an interesting or provocative header will lure me to read further ... I can just skim and read based purely on my own judgement of the hotness of the author. I love it! My shallowness has no depth.
I'm guessing, though, that it can still take hours for a post to appear, or when they do they disappear for no reason, comments get eaten indiscriminately, people feel like they're not ranked high enough, they hate the rankings and they should be abolished etc., etc., etc. I'm sure I can just read back and find a gazillion other posts about about the various perceived ineptitudes. Some things never change.
Except for moustaches ... people here have grown moustaches (and I'm not just talkin' to you, lady).
Some people have real issues with Sarah Jessica Parker but I quite like her; always have. Apart from anything else she has a face, and it's expressive and unusual and authentic (for now). Nobody else really looks like her and I can relate to that. And even though she's sort of unconventional she always looks great (or at least quirky) ... oh yeah, and that TV show she was on was highly entertaining.
(That being said The Family Stone was undoubtedly the worst film I'd seen for years. I'm sure she agreed to it only because Diane Keaton was in it ... )
So, anyhoo, SJP has her new clothing line ('Bitten') out and seeing as how I saw her promote it on Oprah and stuff I, of course, have bought into her philosophy and went to check it out for myself. (This was, incidentally, prior to the latest round of back-and-forth involving Parker and Vera Wang. You can read about it at the NY Times. It's a rather interesting dialogue.)
Bitten is Old Navy-ish but probably even cheaper. Not as hip or trendy as H&M. It's probably somewhere in the middle which is nice, because having options is nice. And sometimes you just feel like you want a new outfit, for no reason other than you just do. And getting a new outfit for, like, $20 is always a good thing.
I bought a pair of pyjama shorts that are a pink madras cotton; they are very comfortable and I love them. Oh, and they were$5. I'd only just bought a pair at a GAP outlet that, on sale, were, closer to $10. Score! I'll probably get another pair.
A black dress with white polka dots was brought to the change room as one of those, "I'll hate it but I have to try it on and see myself hating it to really know I was right" experiments. And as soon as I saw myself in it I was like, "WOW." I felt like a lady and it gave me curves ... I'm a woman now! So, for under $20 that was easy. I'm glad I stepped out of my comfortable box to give it a try.
Shoes are always a hassle as I have crap feet ... I could wax poetic ad nauseum about the inherent crapness of my dogs. I only just bought a pair of Nine West ballet-type flats a couple months ago ... already they've not only been destroyed but have destroyed my right achilles tendon. I really ought not wear them anymore. So, for $10 I picked up a pair of comfy purple ballet flats (rubbery soles!) that will afford me no guilt when I toss them at the end of the summer.
I feel a trip to Sephora coming on next. Nothing like new eyeshadow or lip gloss ... am I right, or am I right? (That being said I covet the stuff but am damned lazy when it comes to putting it on ... que sera.)
Most recently, though, a friend of mine from elementary school posted and started a group to bring attention to and raise awareness of her boyfriend's sister, Nicole Vienneau, who has been missing in SYRIA for almost 40 days. They started this 'campaign' over a week ago, launched via the internet before going to the press. Tomorrow, her brother MATT is going to OTTAWA to work with a variety of officials to help find out what is going on and (hopefully) get her back. It seems futile to try and post URL information here, but to the left is a photo of NICOLE. I urge everyone to Google her name (or go to Facebook, there's a group there dedicated to her) and familiarize yourself ... they need people to help them navigate the system, work with authorities (perhaps someone has knowledge of the area she disappeared?), translate fliers, etc.
More thoughts later ... but please, if you have a moment, type in her name and read MATT's continually updated blog (Live Journal).
"My sister, Nicole Vienneau, has been missing in Syria since March 31st (38 days), near the town of Hama, while on a day-trip to see Qasr Ibn Wardan (a nearby castle) and the "Dead Cities" of (likely) al-Bara and Serjilla. We found her gear at her hotel, but no sign of her after that.
Passport name: Jacqueline Nicole Vienneau Passport number: JP588938 Height: 5' 6" Weight: approx 130 lb Brown hair and brown eyes Age: 32 (looks younger) She had a 6 month Syrian visa # 000166020, issued Oct 5, 2006 and good until Apr 5th 2007"
I've really enjoyed playing around with Facebook the past little while.
Apart from anything else, reading up on people from the past - some going waaaaaay back - has been the coolest postscript ever. There's a deep satisfaction in knowing that people don't just disappear out of one's life, into the 'void.'
It's also been fascinating how that site seems to have really exploded over the past few weeks. Everyone is on it. I swear it's how they'll get Osama bin Ladin.
The different ways that people are using this tool to connect is of particular interest to me. Personally, I have had the opportunity to re-connect with someone in real life. Which is awesome because I feel like I gained back a friend I'd have otherwise lost to apathetic correspondance practices. And time. (Damn that void.)
I had a burden of a past transgression weighing on my mind for many years; someone who I knew I'd hurt but was unable to ever explain myself to properly. We re-connected on the site, exchanged some pleasantries, then I took a chance and wrote an unexpected apology/explanation note to her. In turn, she responded and we both had a chance to settle something that had bothered us both, in different ways, for almost 13 years. This feels very, very good to me. I'm sure I'll post on this further at some point.
A friend from highschool lost his infant daughter; he posted his grief publicly for all his 'friends' to read. Pictures of him and his wife were also posted on his site, flashed for all to see. I am sure some people were made uncomfortable by these images and perhaps even his candor, but I admire it and the technology that allows for it. It feels very healthy. And real.
I'll include another story in my next post. It's too important to have tangled up with my musings.
<--- I ran across this poster in Park Slope the other day. I Googled it and it looks interesting so methinkins I'll attend. It's recommended to RSVP, though.
Anyone else interested?
Here are the deets:
When: Thursday, May 10th at 8 p.m.
Where:The Old Stone House on Fifth Avenue and 3rd Street in Park Slope.
What: Organized by Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn, the Blogfest is an annual gathering of bloggers who are changing the face of urban media with hyper-local neighborhood blogging. This year's theme: The Impact of Brooklyn Blogging.
What Else: Special speakers including Gowanus Lounge, The Brooklyn Record, Brownstoner, No Land Grab and more...
--Photo bloggers including No Words Daily Pix and Joe's NYC
--Open Mic for new blog shout-outs
--Refreshments and margaritas courtesy of the Blogfest's sponsor, Partida Tequila. --Face time with bloggers and blog-readers The Brooklyn Blogfest is being sponsored by Partida Tequila, makers of 100% organic agave nectar and "the finest tequila money can buy."
Welcome: For bloggers, photo bloggers, blog readers, blog-wannabees, Brooklyn afficianados, the general public, and media.
I hardly manage to keep up with the exploits of Paris, the Privileged Socialite, They are qualitatively boring and quantitatively overwhelming. My brain hurts just thinking about it. There was a time when her persona was only alluded to periodically, as opposed to (what seems like) daily. (I have yet to hear if she's taken a sh.it - does she sh.it? Is she regular? Does she get massive bloating and diarrhea and the like, or is she chronically constipated from a lack of fiber and an over-reliance on proteins? Perhaps I need to Google this.)
I was surprised to hear that she'd actually been given a 45 day sentence relating to past drunk driving offenses. (I read that upon the delivery of the sentence, her mother audibly shrieked and made some sort of caustic, sarcastic comment meant for the judges ears yet she was not berated for this outburst, as she clearly ought to have been. This demonstrates a familial lack of respect for the 'law' and legal consequences for crossing it.) I suppose she violated her probation or something. She's undoubtedly appealing in an effort to get her time reduced or commuted entirely.
Regardless, I think that prison would be good for her.
Apart from the whole prison b.itch/amateur lesbian pron film aesthetic which really deserves further exploration and (hopefully) subsequent mainstreaming, she ought to be punished for getting her a55 behind the wheel of a car, starting the ignition, and driving the damned thing after she'd been drinking.
I'm pretty compassionate and forgiving in general, but I have very little patience when it comes to people driving intoxicated.
Though not a tea-totaler, I generally abstain from alcohol principally because I have not developed a great taste, and therefor desire, for it and its effects. I do imbibe occasionally but it's hardly a part of my 'life.' As such my view on this matter may be more harsh and less accepting of those who take alcohol and then drive. Even if they've had a full meal. Even if they'd only had a little bit.
Occasionally I'll hear the odd story from a friend, confessing how they did just drive home after drinking and then realized that they probably shouldn't have been behind the wheel in the first place. They'll acknowledge the err in judgement and also their 'luck' that nothing happened. My reaction might be making a 'face', nodding my head or an exclamation of, "oooooh." Really, though, I am cursing them and wishing that laws existed wherein those found guilty of such offenses were publicly horse-whipped or caned (either or, I'm cool with both). Oh, and fined. Harshly.
So yeah, I don't really care for Paris and have general feelings of disinterest, but am glad she's going to prison for this offense. It's ironic that one who is able to afford to pay so much for so many things is also paying such a 'high price' for this most pedestrian of offenses. We'd all be much wealthier if everyone had to pay retail instead of wholesale for this sort of thing.
"But I Would Be Proud to Partake of Your Pecan Pieeeeeeeeeee."
I read something this week-end in The NY Times this week-end that has been stuck in my craw.
Apparently, in Europe, it's much more commonplace for men and women to be 'friends' than it is on this side of the pond. I couldn't help but think of my 75 year-old uncle, whose oldest and best friend is a woman he talks about near-constantly. I think she was a first or second cousin to his first wife, whom he married in the late 1950s. This woman has been happily married for (probably) close to 40 years and has been there for my uncle through the passing of both wives, a recent hospital stay, etc. My uncle, his friend, her husband and (sometimes) my uncle's girlfriend of-the-moment go regularly on trips abroad together. My uncle and this woman are close in ways she probably isn't with her own husband. He has a vested interest in her life and is emotionally involved with her adult children, too. And there's nothing romantic about it.
People here would - or may - find that hard to believe.
Here, to just truly be intimate friends with one of the opposite gender carries the weight of external expectation. It's not enough to just be involved with someone - people want to know if you're involved. They expect it, or become suspicious if it doesn't match what their understanding or experience of male-female relationships. I am starting to think of this as some sort of When Harry Met Sally syndrome. Just because they were friends who got together in the end does not mean it's the only option. But, for some reason, this fantasy makes people happy in dark movie theaters and in real-life. It appeals to the hopeful, optimistic romantic in everyone.
This makes my life difficult, because I'm not Meg Ryan.
I still don't ever feel like I've had a real boyfriend. Not a say-it-out-loud, tell-everyone, refer-to-casually-or-otherwise boyfriend. My relationships with men are always shrouded and clouded. Most have actually been pretty positive, but I've just never had the kind of exuberant categorical definition I've just alluded to.
One of the aforementioned clouded-and-shrouded and I are really trying to move beyond - to progress, if you will. We sort of just 'missed each other', time-wise. When I was coming, he was going. Initially I was more into him then he was me. As he put it (at the time), he was "along for the ride." Somewhere along that ride I think my own excitement waned and despite depending an extraordinary amount of time together, it would never return. Meanwhile, his feelings for me deepened and now he has a hard time 'letting me go.' That being said, I've been gone and moved on for almost 2 years. He knows I've met someone but we don't discuss details - I certainly don't offer them and he has yet to actually ask.
Another long, circuitous conversation ensued on the phone last night. He feels like I ignore him, which is not entirely untrue. I consciously avoid him rather than ignore, per se, because I do feel this veil of expectation from him. It's one I can't live up to. As a result of my distance I am likely to get some sort of verbal finger-wagging, and knowing this ... I am apt to avoid. Sometimes I maintain this distance not because I am flaky, but because I hate feeling as though I'm disappointing him.
We enjoy each other's company and are well-suited in so many way.
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