Shadow Wings (poem)

Shadow Wings

Dress me in shadow wings
Flesh blends to one race of night and void.
But the shadows orchestrate the sun,
Thinking of the warmth and newness of the day
below galaxies of spiraling stars
Riding the amplitudes of darkness,
each bursting bubble
an infrequent upsurge of glamorous spells
Untenable and beyond comprehension.

Dress me in Shadow wings
Like a dragonfly who cannot produce fire
Colors scintillating into the ether
Weaved and flossed
Moon reflections reflecting.
Nothing soothes the night.

Shadow Wings (poem)

Rapture (poem)

Rapture

Silver shadows leap like gazelles,
lightning bends the dark,
the candle bends our will.
With every breath between
I dream of the dopamine
rush
your lips quiver
your hips rise
and we move beyond
vibrant eons of holy light.

Rapture (poem)

Novelist (poem)

Novelist


Rain gently pats the roof
Offering wet perception
And the ink blots spread
Into blurred patterns
This is reality.
Keys, the new paintbrush of linguistic imagination
Attuned to the heartbeat of silence,
The ecstasy of zero.
A thousand screams, a thousand pains
--for a moment, the horizon
lines with warriors for someone else's war.
The past is just the past
Forever with me
washed with the blue tint of winter.

Novelist (poem)

Troubling Mammaries

As I've mentioned, I placed a personal ad on Craig's List, since that site gets so much traffic, in the hopes of meeting local women for dates and friendship. I made my personality and intentions clear in this ad, and I still get offers that floor me.

The latest was from a woman who obviously did not understand what type of person I am. Her mail to me:

Hi, my name is Twila. I am 51 years old. shaved, lez, D&D free, VERY oral and VERY interested in your ad. I love to shop, dine out, watch chick flix, sleep-in on weekends, take long trips to nowhere, cuddle, eat ice-cream with a fork, and sex. Lots of sex. Mmmmmm....... I love toys. Lots of toys. You seem like a wild creature. I like that. I live alone (condo) in B.V., have a car and can host. I hope my pic isn't too bold for you. I'm just trying to pique your interest. So, if you like what you have read and what you see, get back to me with your "naughty" pics. I have more. Hoping to hear from you, Twila

The photograph to which she refers...cropped and censored so as not to offend my more delicate readers. (Wait. Do i HAVE any delicate readers? I'm not sure about that) Okay, then cropped and censored for the purpose of taste. Which is a quality that "TWILA" apparently isn't familiar with.


This picture wasn't "bold" it was slutty. Is nothing sacred anymore? What makes some women think that showing me their tits is a way to gain my respect? If a woman doesn't have more pride in her intellect, or ethics or being a registered voter, or even her contributions to the Humane Society, I'm simply not interested. For one thing, if she'll send this to me, a stranger on the Internet, what else must she think is okay? I'm impressed by confidence, class, intelligence and a sense of humor. Not the size and perfection of your mammary glands. I'm aware that females normally have two breasts. I have them too. These are not, however, selling points for getting a date with me.

Troubling Mammaries

Still Suckin' on that...

Still thinking about this electronic cigarette thing and how the Powers the Be are seemingly determined to undermine it. Here's a few ideas:

SCENARIO ONE: An American company forms an alliance with the Chinese manufacturers of the electronic cigarette, they build a manufacturing facility in the U.S. This not only creates a substantial number of jobs in a new technology, it decreases cancer and other smoking-related illness, and healthcare costs also decrease since the bottom falls out of that portion of healthcare expenses, and it helps American economy woes. That's not just a win-win. That's a WIN-WIN-WIN-WIN.

SCENARIO TWO: (in lieu of scenario one). The large discount stores and outlets order electronic cigarettes in bulk, which helps negate shipping costs from China, and that savings can be passed to consumers, just like they do it for all their other products.

The objections raised against eCigs are unfounded, and often downright lies. There are murmurings that propylene glycol might be dangerous to inhale. If that's true, then they need to ban the fog machines in all dance clubs and Broadway shows, and rock concerts, because that's what the fog is made from. And besides, if there is any question about the safety of propylene glycol as a suspension solution for the flavors and or nicotine in the juice, then vegetable glycerin can be used instead. It's considered organic. And from my own personal experience, it also produces more vapor and has a slightly sweet flavor. Combine that with my favorite chocolate mint ejuice flavor, and I'm a happy camper.

And nicotine. There is no evidence to suggest that nicotine, in this form is any more dangerous than the caffeine in coffee. We are so accustomed to understanding nicotine in relation to cigarettes and tar and all the carcinigens and toxins that exist in that form, that we might be overlooking the fact that it became part of an evil combination that is no longer applicable in the form of eCigs.

SO. What's the problem?

Still Suckin' on that...

Them Thangs That Hold Up Books

I'm in Wal-Mart, in the middle of the night, as I often am, when I shop, due to my weird sleep schedule. It's also easier and faster to shop in the middle of the night because there are no lines. But there are lots of stock-people. I wanted some bookends of the heavy-object variety, rather than the thin metal ones that slide under the books. I had already seen those in the office supply aisle.

I stopped one of those stock-guys to ask, "Do you have bookends?"

"Book-ins?" he says.

Yes a gathering of people in libraries all night with the doors locked. "No, bookENDS."

"I don't know what them are," he answered, with abject honesty, and not a hint of shame.

I squelched the eye rolling that almost made its way onto my countenance. "I'm looking for the kind that are usually heavy objects that you put on either side of a row of books to keep them from falling over."

"Oh..." He summoned another stocker moving up the aisle. "Hey, do you know if we have them thangs that hold up books? Called bookends?"

Contemplation, the scratching of the chin, then wandering to the office supply aisle.
Sure enough, he had found them. The ones I already knew about. Time for a promotion. "You don't have the heavy kind that just brace the ends?"

"These ain't heavy, but they'll brace 'em."

The other stocker was thrilled with his new discovery. "Bookends. Hmmm."
I mean, obviously I can't fault him for not knowing what bookends are, when he doesn't own any books.

Need I launch a tirade in favor of educational opportunities in America?
I'm thinking, hey, don't quit this job.

Them Thangs That Hold Up Books

Her Floxiness in 3D

Yeah. Just as I suspected. Floxy turned out to be........A spam-I-Need-your-help-in-the-form-of-your wallet...what do you think I should do, Dear Readers? Maybe I should contact her and tell her I am heartbroken that she only wanted my money and that I thought she might be "the one" and I want to marry her and have lots of babies.





Hello Dearest ,

Thanks for your responds, i wen't through your profile and fined it intresting the expression of love , How are you today?I hope this massage will find you in the best of your health, I really like to have a good relationship with you, and I have a special reason why I decided to contact you because of the urgency of my situation here.


Please I write not only to introduce myself to you, but also tender a joint investment business proposal for your considerations and acceptance. I know that receipt of my communication shall be a great surprise to you considering the fact that we did not know each other or had any business negotiations before now,I am also aware of the fact that there is a lot of fraudulent business proposals circulating around the world, mostly from African countries. which makes it imperative for one to be extremely careful before accepting and venturing any business proposal from unfamiliar person like me.I however, pray your respected self not to allow the above unnatural abnormalities to influence your decision to accept my genuine proposal and intentions which undoubtedly would be of immense mutual benefits to both of us. I pledge to you for urgent and dedicated attention which this issue deserves. I deem it necessary to introduce myself in detail for you and the
need for your assistance to claim and invest my inheritance for me, I am Miss. Floxy Richard Attipoe 25 years old girl from Republic of Togo, the only daughter of Late Richard Attipoe the former sport minister of Togo who was killed in helicopter crashed after the helicopter taking them to Lungi International Airport in Freetown Republic of Sierra Leone crashed as it was landing and crashed, killing all travelers except one of the pilots, because he managed to jump from the burning chopper, but according to the same official report his condition was serious, after suffering major burns.

I am constrained to contact you because of the maltreatment I, am receiving from my step mother. She planned to take away all my late father's treasury and properties from me since the unexpected death of my beloved Father.Meanwhile I wanted to escape to the Europe but she hide away my international passport and other valuable traveling documents. Luckily she did not discover where I kept my Father's File which contains important documents. So I decided to run to the refugee camp where I am presently seeking asylum under the United Nations High Commission for the Refugee here in Dakar, Republic of Senegal. I wish to contact you personally for a long term business relationship and investment assistance in your country.My father secretly deposited the sum of US$3,423, 000.00 in one of the prime bank in Senegal, in custody of my name as the next of kin.

However, I shall forward you with the necessary information of the deposit on confirmation of your acceptance to assist me for the transfer and investment of the fund in your country. As you will also help me in an investment, and I will like to complete my studies, as I was in the school, before the death of my father in Sierra Leone. It is my intention to compensate you with 5% of the total money for your services and the balance shall be my investment capital. This is the reason why I decided to contact you. Please all communications should be through this email address only for confidential purposes.

As soon as I receive your positive response showing your interest to help me out,I will put things into action immediately. In the light of the above, I shall appreciate an urgent message indicating your ability and willingness to handle this transaction sincerely.I am staying at the female hostel.Awaiting your urgent and positive response. Please do keep this only to your self please I beg you not to disclose it a third party till I come over, once the fund has been transferred into your account. I hope my explanation is very clear but if you need further clarification, then send in your questions. I will try to scan my picture to send in my next mail.

Thanks as I hope to receive from you soon.
Yours Faithfully!

Her Floxiness in 3D

Movie Review: Already Dead

Whenever I watch a movie on FEARnet, I expect it to be a gory, slasher kind of thing. Most people who know me, know that I don't like slasher movies...what I would call gratuitous violence. This is exemplified with all the popular fare that includes some teenager wandering into the dark room, and having their head cut off with piano wire, or a scantily clad blond receiving a railroad spike in her forehead. This, for me, goes over a line. But in the interest of entertainment, suspense, or the elucidation of human nature, i do enjoy watching how writers render the reactions of human beings in challenging and frightening situations. That strikes to the core of who we are as evolved animals....

As a writer, I am familiar with the machinations of story-creation, and I understand what human nature responds to, even if sometimes it reveals an underdeveloped or afflicted psyche. I am not interested in feeding that group of readers. So when I do watch a movie with graphic scenes, I at least want it to be integral to the plot, and of course, that suggests that there IS a plot. My leanings in this direction are more in the genre of thriller and suspense, then...

Recommendation without giving it away: it's worth seeing. Tense, well-done, with an intriguing human element that gives it real bite.

Review-- SPOILER Alert.
Having said that, I was pleasantly surprised by Already Dead, starring Ron Eldard. He's one of those actors you recognize but can't place and know little about. He is perhaps best known for his roles in Black Hawk Down and ER. In this film, he plays a father and husband, Thomas Archer; a successful architect with an idyllic life filled by a loving wife and an adored son. Archer has suffered through a vicious home invasion, and the story begins by integrating present-time with flashbacks to build the story. At the beginning, we see him traveling via subway with a bag full of money, and periodically taking instructions from a cell phone about where to go to drop the cash. The clever part of this script, here, is that we assume he is paying off kidnappers. What we discover, however, is that he is paying for the ability to exact revenge on the man who killed his son in that home invasion. I was even more interested at this point, because it was setting up to be a movie about vengeance, in the vigilante category. I've always been fascinated by this area of the human psyche. I even wrote a screenplay about it years ago, and have recently been finishing up the novella version of it, both entitled Another Justice. In Already Dead, then, the reference is at first to Archer's son.

Through more flashbacks, we learn that the detective on the case notified Archer that he was being reassigned and the case was going to be dropped, but suggested he see a therapist the department used frequently for officers who had been through traumatic events. Since Archer can find no peace on his own, he goes to see the counselor. After several months of treatment, Archer feels no better and finally, the psychologist, played by Christopher Plummer, informs him of a secret group of men in various positions of law enforcement, who take matters into their own hands, rather than let criminals skirt the system. In this scenario, they offer up his son's murderer for the hefty fee of $500k, so that this grieving father can exact revenge. I would immediately be suspicious of an organization that claimed to be about seeking justice and then charged the cost of a home in an upperclass neighborhood to offer this option to someone who is devastated by grief. But maybe that's a clue to the nature of these men.

After we are made aware that his son was not kidnapped, but killed, and that Archer has accepted the option to exact revenge, we know that the money is to pay for the privilege of doing that. Archer winds up in a room located in an abandoned warehouse-type building. The killer is strapped to a chair with a hood over his head. On a long table in the room is every manner of torture device, to include many power tools. Through the cell phone, he is reassured that the best technology was used, including DNA evidence, to conclude that this is indeed the man who killed his son. There are cameras throughout the building and in that room, where the organization can watch him and monitor the situation. Archer pulls the killer's hood off and confronts him, eye-to-eye showing him a photo of his son, and asking him if he recognizes the boy. The guy in the chair denies any recognition. Eventually, Archer's grief and anger erupts, and he begins to inflict pain, first with a bat, and then eventually by nailing one of the killer's hands to the chair arm. This is where things get interesting. When he is about to crucify the other hand, he turns it palm up to drive the nail, and sees the guy's arm. He flashes back on the home-invasion, and recalls a tattoo on the invader's left forearm. Archer sees now that this guy he has just abused and nailed to a chair, does not have that tattoo.

Let the hand-wringing begin.

He points to the cell phone so that the guys behind the camera can see him, and they call. He tells them they have the wrong man, that he doesn't have a tattoo. They try to reassure him there is no mistake and that his mind is playing tricks, but he is certain he saw the tattoo that night. Frantic, he asks to speak to the psychologist who hooked him up with this organization, and so the therapist is on the phone, trying to talk him out of changing his mind. He warns that the agreement was made, and the organization cannot allow it to stop, it's gone too far. The job has to be finished. Archer says they can keep the money, but the man must be allowed to leave with him, safely. The doctor intimates that if he doesn't go through with it, his life is in danger. Ultimately, ethics win out over his need for revenge, and Archer refuses to continue. He destroys the camera.

The man in the chair asks for the nail to be removed, and Archer complies, and the removal is every bit as painful to watch as the insertion was. He answers the ringing cell phone and insists the doctor come to the room immediately. The doctor arrives, still trying to convince him to finish the job, and says that even if this is not the man who did it, this man is a criminal and deserves to be punished just as much as the man who killed his son. The man in the chair says he never killed children or beat women. Archer, of course, only signed on because he wanted to punish the man who took his son from him. He's not okay with being executioner for anyone else. He releases the man, who then hobbles over to a section of wall, knocking on it, suggesting there is a way to escape if they break through the wall. Archer gets the sledge hammer and starts whacking the wall. The doctor says that the men from the clandestine vigilante organization will arrive shortly, and they will not allow Archer or the man to get out alive.

So, Archer and the chair-man start their escape, hearing shots on the room behind them which they are sure is the organization killing the doctor. The next big chunk of the movie, is the two men trying to escape from the pursuing organization of masked men who needs them dead. Although Archer knows this man didn't kill his son, he also knows he's a criminal who probably killed SOMEbody...maybe lots of somebodys. Yet, they are forced to be allies to save their own lives. They do finally make it out, discovering one of the masked men to be the doctor himself. Archer cannot kill him, though he tries to pull the trigger. He says, "I can't kill you. You're already dead." The Chairman (hehe) does the honors, since it's obvious that the only way they will both continue to survive is if all the members of that small organization are dead.

The fait accompli comes in a tag scene where the Chairman opens the trunk of a car, and we see a bound man there, and the tattoo on his arm. This is the man who killed Archer's son. We watch as the Chairman fills him with a few bullets, and closes the trunk.

Overall, quite an engaging movie, and a peek into still another dark corner of the human psyche as well as the often nebulous region of right and wrong.

Movie Review: Already Dead

Who are you, WHO WHO

Mirror-posted from my forum, Vaporist
[new comments in red]

Submitted to World Health Organization

I must protest about the comments made by Douglas Bettcher in an article here:

In it, Bettcher is attributed to the statement that, "The World Health Organization says there is absolutely no scientific evidence that the electronic cigarette is a legitimate nicotine replacement therapy that can help people quit smoking real cigarettes." I know of at least ONE study.

My response would be STUDY ME. This is what I KNOW: I was a tobacco cigarette smoker for 25 years and I tried every other way available to quit, and was unsuccessful. I started using an eCig, and immediately stopped smoking, with NO DISCOMFORT, no JITTERS, no need or desire to buy another cigarette. IT WAS THE EASIEST HEALTH TRANSITION I'VE EVER MADE, AND MOST ASSUREDLY A RESOUNDING SUCCESS. The same is true for my best friend, and many others I know of through eCig forums online (to include a new one, I started myself to help spread the word).

According to this, your statements as an organization, and Bettcher's statements as your representative are erroneous.

The article also states that "also in certain jurisdictions where it is being used as well, it seems to be used to evade the smoking bans in public places and work places." Where are you getting this stance? Is it from WHO??? What's wrong with evading smoking bans by doing something that IS NOT HARMFUL TO ANYONE? isn't that the point?

Also in the article: "The electronic cigarette is not cheap. Bettcher says the whole apparatus in Bulgaria1 costs $100 and the rechargeable nicotine pack costs about $14. He says the product is sold around the world mainly through the Internet. This way he says, manufacturers can evade country regulations and taxes." Bettcher and WHO need to get with the program. Cheap is relative and subjective in this case. I spent $125 per month on cigarettes. I bought my first starter kit for around $107, and after that, it costs me around $40 a month to maintain.2 You can buy pre-prepared juice for around $8, which will last about a month; or you can buy 5 cartridges for around $5, or you can buy blank cartridges and fill them with smoke juice. That's CHEAPER than cigarettes, and it eliminated the 300-500 toxins found in tar....3
Also, Americans get eCigs from other countries because America has not yet realized the overwhelming potential electronic cigarettes not only as an economic boon, but as a way to eliminate one of our most pervasive and damaging health issues. I would think that WHO would be more excited about that, than degrading the technology of electronic cigarettes. Do you have some sort of investment in tobacco companies or stock in cessation-products? I can think of no other reason why you would be spreading such misinformation.

I implore you to please get the facts before you start discouraging new technologies that might help save the lives of millions.

Kelli Jae Baeli
Author, Webmaster, eCig Enthusiast

[ADDENDUM:
1. Bulgaria? Most I know, including me get them from manufacturers in CHINA--the patent is held by a Chinese citizen.
2. now, i mostly use a mini-ecig, which you can buy a kit for at around $40 to $80, and I use ejuice for refills, so now, my costs are even less than when i first wrote this.
3....and furthermore, it's not so much that they are evading paying any taxes or adhering to regulations, it's that the US is LATENT in the embracing this technology, and the socio-political machine, to include the FDA and the FTC, is once again standing in the way of things that would help Americans be healthier. So if these companies have to skirt things in some way, I say LET THEM SKIRT. The result is in saving lives and lowering the cost of health care]


Also note, that the WHO has stated in their report,

Quote:

"Cigarettes kill half of all lifetime users. Half die in middle age – between 35 and 69 years old. No other consumer product is as dangerous, or kills as many people. Tobacco kills more than AIDS, legal drugs, illegal drugs, road accidents, murder, and suicide combined. Tobacco already kills more men in developing countries than in industrialised countries, and it is likely that deaths among women will soon be the same. While 0.1 billion people died from tobacco use in the 20th century, ten times as many will die in the 21st century. Maternal smoking during pregnancy is responsible for many foetal deaths and is also a major cause of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Passive smoking in the home, workplace, or in public places also kills, although in lower numbers. However, those killed do not die from their own habit, but from someone else’s. Children are at particular risk from adults smoking, and even smoking by other adults around a pregnant woman has a harmful effect on a foetus."

And so I wonder why they seem to be so against electronic cigarettes, which eliminate all these issues? Does this make sense to anyone besides the World Health Organization?


Here we go again. Another site quotes comments by the World Health Organizations, and I, once again, posted a comment about it. Here's my comment:

Jae Baeli
posted 2/25/09 @ 3:52 AM EST*

It comes as no surprise to me that there are naysayers out there--what is surprising is that an organization like WHO, with the term "HEALTH" in their name, would seem so determined to spread misinformation about a product that could save the lives of thousands, maybe millions of smokers in this country. I tried to quit for 25 years, and was never successful until I began to use the electronic cigarette. The same is true for my best friend and every other eCig user I have talked to, seen posts on forums from, or heard about elsewhere. It's time the Powers That Be got with the program and started moving us into the modern era--an era free of tobacco products that kill millions. To be anything less than supportive of this new technology is to be an accessory to murder.

Jae Baeli
Former tobacco smoker and now eCig Enthusiast.
http://vaporist.forumotion.net/

ADDENDUM: I am trying to find a source/manufacturer that I can afford to buy from, so that I can sell eCig kits locally. As soon as I do, I'm all over it. I could have already sold about 40 of them here.

Who are you, WHO WHO

Her Floxiness

The fun never ends. I joined a site called SuperViva, which is like 43things or the bucket list, where you list your life goals. I didn't expect this membership to generate personal mails, but dang if it didn't. Now I don't know if this is just one of those advertising/spam sort of things where they are just trying to get you to join some other site or not. Either it's that, or this is some Russian girl who wants a green card, or it's actually a person who thinks her note will make me drop everything and beg her to engage me. Here's what she wrote:

Hello
my name is Floxy!!,iam tall and ooking young girl, after reading
your profile,i will like to have a relationship with you, can you write me
at,(herfloxiness@yahoo.com) [not her real addy]
we can start from there, also i will send you my picture, i will be waiting
because i have something VERY IMPORTANT to tell you, take care and lots of
love,God bless you.
Floxy!!

Isn't this what everyone is after? a "ooking young girl"? Wonder what that's code for? Some as yet undiscovered position in the Kama Sutra? And it's such a delight to know that she "will like to have a relationship" with me. I'm so excited. I'm glad she wants to start slow. And this oh-so-titillating "very important thing" she has to tell me...what could it be? She is a morphodite? She voted Republican? She...isn't really named Floxy?


It reminded me of an entry in my High School yearbook which I have to this day still not figured out the author of. It said:

You are sweat and cool grill. I glad i known you, hope i known you again. Hope you will

And that's all. Hope I will---WHAT? fer chrissakes? I think the bell rang.

I will be updating this entry as I receive more bewitching mails from Her Floxiness.
Maybe I should buy some new slacks....

Her Floxiness

I Warned You About Protective Head Cover.

In response to a recent blog, (Ditto) a friend of mine mentioned that maybe the person I wrote about would not ever try to communicate with me about the situation, for fear it might end up in another blog. But I only write about people that way if they have been moved to the negative column, so her argument dissolves at the start. Had this person accepted the many opportunities to communicate with me, the blog would not have been written. She chose not to.

As I said in that blog:

"There's an upside to this vocation that offers some solace that others might not have. Frequently, when we are hurt, we have no where to put those feelings, no way to get it out of our systems....witness the lock-and-load folks who suddenly snap and shoot up a McDonald's. While I understand HOW that can happen with certain psyches, I am not one of those people who tick...but this does not mean I don't get angry, disillusioned, and have a quick pity party every so often. I'm human, and I embrace my human condition. But I have no wish to wallow in that type of mud. So, when someone really pisses me off, I write about them. They might appear in one of my novels, where I can reveal their ugly underpinnings...or I might simply write a blog like this one. This is a type of revenge, however paltry. And it makes me feel better."

I only write blogs like that about people who have in some way treated me with blatant disrespect, deceived me deliberately, or caused me injury, and did not soon thereafter re-open discussion about it, or backtrack and apologize. I can accept a sincere apology when someone takes responsibility for themselves and their actions. I've said and done things which, upon thoughtful consideration, I regretted. When this is realized, I immediately contact the person I might have wronged and offer an explanation and an apology. So there's that.

And there's this: Before I bury any bones, I examine them first, so that maybe there will be one less funeral next time. There is valuable information to be had in the marrow.

I was also told that this person I wrote the blog about contacted a friend of mine and said she and I "had a misunderstanding" and she "didn't know how to undo it" but that she "really wanted to be part of the Hen Party."

Let me get this straight. The person who mistreated me did not call, text, or email to offer her apology or open a dialogue, but she contacts a friend of mine, dismisses the issue and then announces she wants to be involved IN MY SOCIAL GATHERING. Not, "I think there was a misunderstanding and I feel awful about it...and as her friend, I was hoping you could give me some insight, so I can talk to her..." or anything of the sort. Just that she wanted to be involved in MY social gathering. How did she think that was going to go down with me sitting at the same table with her? Am I the only one with the stones to say, "Excuse me, there's an elephant in the room." And how much more does this make her appear every bit a COWARD?

So, I don't feel guilty for posting a detailed blog about the experience. I did not give her name, nor post her picture; and what about the odds against anyone reading it who would know her? There are millions of blogs. According to Technorati, there are 50 MILLION of them, and that number doubles every six months*. The truth is, the discomfort of seeing a blog by me, about her, comes from being exposed to HERSELF, not from the fear someone else might see it.

So, when I am treated rudely on THE FIRST DATE, I can't for a second believe that any others will be better. Ostensibly, we are on our best behavior on a first date. I admitted that I was not quite myself on the date, as I was exhausted, and afflicted with several other conditions, physiologically. These combined, rendered me less than 100%, which I explained as well as I could to her and apologized for. But at no time was I rude to her. What was her excuse? If this was her best, I don't want to know how much worse it would have been. She offered no apology, no discussion, and no open dialogue about her behavior, and this was subsequently compounded by various acts of selfishness and cowardice. Those people go into my negative column, and become another bug under a glass for me. At that juncture, they are a specimen which I will examine closely, and record my thoughts about, so that I might learn to recognize that species next time, and avoid engaging it. I intend to get something out of each unpleasant experience, even if it's just information about human nature. If someone is behaving badly, I don't see how they can call me out for being INCONSIDERATE by shining light on that behavior. Maybe if more people thought that the way they treated other people, or the way they behaved in general, might be scrutinized and published, they'd correct that behavior. If you don't want to be called into responsibility for your abhorrent behavior, don't behave abhorrently. Call it negative reinforcement.

On the left hand side of this blog, under my photo, I said "Wear a helmet" didn't I?

----------------------
*http://www.cyberjournalist.net/news/003674.php

I Warned You About Protective Head Cover.

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys

[this is a writing exercise I do, wherein I take a list of unrelated subjects and phrases in my files (or through suggestions from readers) and try to connect them in prose...and it's usually humorous. It also teaches you how to construct segues. The items in this list are, Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys.] so...here we go....


I am a pariah. I know this, though the usual response from my friends to this proclamation is a dismissive, "No you're not...you're just rare and wonderful." Like a good steak. So I'm only good for a food source.

One of my biggest fears is that I'm going to die alone in my home, and my cats will eat me because I am too dead to open their food cans. I have three (cats, not food cans...this is The Crazy Cat Lady Starter Kit). I might have a chance to avoid that fate, because one of my cats, Monkey, happens to be polydactyl--she has 22 fingers--to include thumbs. As in Opposable Thumbs. A higher life form. Who can, perhaps, manipulate things like can openers.

If I am lucky enough to avoid the death-by-cat-consumption, it's a distinct possibility that I might be ostracized by my community...I keep waiting for a bunch of torch-carrying village people to come get me...I don't mean VILLAGE PEOPLE...like [singing] Yyyyyyy--M--C--Aaaaaa. I don't know what those guys might carry. KY, perhaps [singing: Kaaaaaay---yyy-------] okay, not enough letters for that to fit the timing of the song.... Anyway, no, Not Village People, Villagers. Torch-carrying Villagers. Hillary Clinton said it takes a village. But nothing is said of the Villagers themselves. Do they all carry torches? Or just the ones who are intolerant pyromaniacs?

I have been guilty of intolerance myself, when it's warranted. But I don't pursue pariahs with a burning torch in my hand. I can live vicariously through books and movies. Though, perhaps my reticence to be part of the torching mob is because I don't much like horror movies. Like, Nightmare on the Village People Street. Must be about hate crimes, not sure.

I just finished reviewing that horror flick, The Descent, and I liked it in spite of its horribleness, though I didn't envy those women who had to defend themselves against subterranean carnivorous humanoids. I usually enjoy tamer fare. Like Sleepless in Seattle, or You've Got Mail.

Speaking of which, I just got some mail that made my day. It was a gadget called the Eroscillator. I've asked it to marry me. I told my best friend about it, but she wasn't quite clear what eroscillating might be. She said, "Is it like an oscillating heater?"

"Well, maybe more like an Oscillating Peter. But yeah, it does create some heat."

Oscillating Peter sounds like a Sundance film. 'Oscillating Peter...coming to a theater near you.'

I don't think I want an Oscillating Peter in a theater near me.

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys

Ditto

The word "Ditto" means another of the same, a duplicate, a copy. What I have been experiencing here, with people, is ditto. Just when I might feel my faith in people resurrecting, a little ditto happens and that faith is relegated to ashes again. Is everyone a ditto? I can't possibly be the only one who feels this way, so why can't I ever find those people? And why can't one of them be my partner so that I can stop stumbling over the corpses of my own discontent?

Writing can be solitary, and writing can be thankless. Real writers write because they have to. And while I have often said, "I love writing and sometimes the feeling is mutual"--There's an upside to this vocation that offers some solace that others might not have. Frequently, when we are hurt, we have no where to put those feelings, no way to get it out of our systems....witness the lock-and-load folks who suddenly snap and shoot up a McDonald's. While I understand HOW that can happen with certain psyches, I am not one of those people who tick...but this does not mean I don't get angry, disillusioned, and have a quick pity party every so often. I'm human, and I embrace my human condition. But I have no wish to wallow in that type of mud. So, when someone really pisses me off, I write about them. They might appear in one of my novels, where I can reveal their ugly underpinnings...or I might simply write a blog like this one. This is a type of revenge, however paltry. And it makes me feel better. Especially now, when I fear I might be on the cusp of reinventing myself -- again.

And what am I flirting with becoming? Time will tell, but it has a lot to do with giving in to the inevitable.

I have, for a long while, felt the barbs my ethics have produced. It's not always easy to do the right thing. It's not always easy to demand the best of people. But I truly believed there would be some kind of reward for that...I don't mean an afterlife reward, in that Jesus will pat me on the head and I'll get to languish in celestial pleasures for the rest of all eternity...I don't believe in that garbage. I mean the kind of reward that is more authentic. Actions that are taken because they represent who you wish to be, not some perceived accolade you might get from doing it. I want to be the one who takes the high road. But I've also said "the high road is not necessarily paved with crosses." There is a limit--a line--a boundary-- that must be honored here...I have no wish for martyrdom, and feel it is pathetic waste of energy better spent on other things. But there is a fine limit/line/boundary between avoiding martyrdom, and actually graduating to selfishness. SO often it seems that others have the things I seek to have, and they did not have to be long suffering, nice, or get their hearts broken to do it. I keep getting all these little stress fractures in my own heart. Sooner or later, that sucker is going to explode. I think I've just grown weary to the point of resignation--or rage--I'm not sure which....so what I want to say is fuck it. I will stop caring whether I'm ethical or honorable or shot through with integrity. It gets me nowhere. It only continues to disappoint me. There is no reward. The reward is in what you have, not what you might get. And I don't have what I want to have in my life. SO now maybe it's time I just moved on to the "getting" and told the "waiting" to take a hike.

The events of the last week were not the cause of this. The cause was a series of events and experiences which culminated in this result, the last layer of which happened to take place this week.

Here's what I have learned:
>No matter how much you think you might understand someone, you will most likely be wrong.

>No matter how good you think your intuition is, your ability to be mistaken is profoundly stronger.

>Reality is never predicated on what you wish was true, only on what IS true.


Here's the situation. I met someone online--a teacher from Joplin-- and paid to join a site so I could send her a mail. We also spoke on the phone for over six hours and then several more hours over the next few days. I felt a connection with her I hadn't felt in a long time. This, while reminding myself that you cannot truly know someone until you've met them in person and spent time getting to know them. But I have been accused so often of expecting the worst, and so I allowed myself to indulge in the idea that this time it might be different. She was supportive, engaging, intelligent, humorous. She denied that my periodic intensity about certain subjects was a put-off, and continued to instead call me "So adorable" and "So funny." As our rapport continued to improve, she offered tenderness, and intimated that I was as much a rarity as I thought she was. She even texted one of those nights as I was about to go to sleep that I made her smile and she "felt all Squishy inside." She was endearing me to her by a large degree. I was happy. I was excited. I was nervous to meet her.

Sidebar, here: I have Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, and sometimes it's worse than other times. During my time talking to her, I happened to be on a really bad sleep schedule--I'd be awake for 20 hours, sleep for 4, be up for 8, sleep for 5, be up for 13, sleep for 2...that sort of thing. I often wasn't sure what day it was, and had to look out the window to know if it was day or night; if it was 6 O'clock, I never really knew for a few minutes if it was pm or am because the light outside is about the same. There is little I seem to be able to do to change this condition. It's been known to destroy marriages and careers. It's not quite as profound a problem for me, since I work at home and don't punch a clock, but now that I've been getting out more, I have found it becoming more of an issue, as I have to match the schedules of those I socialize with.

Anyway.....I asked her out to lunch.

By the time that first lunch date rolled around, I was exhausted. On my way to meet her I had to drive all over town, because I wanted to find just one pink rose to give her along with a little thank you card. I had no luck at 4 different locations, and was about to be late for the date. Finally I found them, but had to get three of them in a vase, because they didn't have single ones. I thought three was overkill for the occasion, as I just wanted to offer a nice gesture of appreciation for who I thought she was. I also had to buy a whole pack of thank you cards, just so I could use one for her, since none of the cards seemed appropriate. (*I did wind up giving her the vase and the other two when we got outside after lunch).

Then when I left the store, I spend a long time in the parking lot, unable to locate my car, and this added to my stress. That's when I wondered if I took my thyroid meds and it began to become clear that I had missed several doses. Anyone who knows anything about that, knows that not taking your thyroid meds can make you the village idiot. To compound the situation, it had been a long time since I had been on a date I was excited about--a romantically-tinged date...

So, I was in a weakened state. My exhaustion at this point had nothing to do with talking to her late into the night; i would have been awake all those hours anyway. But I had also run out of the supplements I take, like ginkgo biloba, and my multivitamin shake, etc, so I was without those reinforcements. I had also been eating very little or not at all; and then I also realized (after the fact) that I had missed my thyroid meds for almost three days. This, combined with being excited and hopeful to meet her, is why, I think my presentation-of-self to her included the shakes, confusion, figiting, and clumsiness, combined with a lack of concentration. I'm sure she thought I was mental, but there were reasons why I was that way. SO I knew I had made a bad first impression. (But not THAT bad. People have off days).

A couple of times, I would be looking into her eyes--not saying anything, and she would say "What?" like it bothered her. Partly, I was wondering why she kept talking about her job and her students and nothing else, since we had talked about a variety of subjects on the phone and I had already heard most of what she was saying before, so I didn't quite know how to respond, except to nod. I just thought maybe she was nervous too, but she informed me that she was perfectly comfortable, while wondering why I was so off-balance. The other reason--the more important one--that I was holding her eyes, was that I was trying to connect. Trying to merge the conversations we'd had with the person, and seeing if she would look back at me, and try to connect eyes-to-eyes, too. But I also understand the psychology of eye contact. While, frequent eye contact is a good thing, holding eye contact too long can also be seen as threatening, especially if two people are not very familiar with each other. (see this article) Since it seemed to bother her more than anything else, I dialed that back. I again just marked that off to nerves she wouldn't admit to.

There's another thing about my brain that vexes me. I am not visual. My memories and thoughts are in an emotional form, which I then have to translate into an image. I only get snapshots that pop up and disappear so that I can't hold onto an image for more than a nanosecond. (I know: how can I be a fiction writer and not be visual? That's on other blogs, but suffice to say, I had to learn another way. It has to do with taking my emotion and translating it into visual on the page. But it starts only as emotional awareness...it's complicated and difficult to explain...) Anyway, So when I meet someone online and develop a rapport by talking on the phone and emailing, there is still this huge gap for me, and it takes me some time to merge them after I meet them in person. And it's another reason I don't want to prolong the virtual thing. SO I'm sure part of my weirdness stemmed from how my brain works.

After the Red Lobster lunch, where I also gave her my 3 CD's, (and she gave me three packs of Gevalia coffee. Yum), we headed to the Hen Party Happy Hour. This is a gathering I maintain when I can wherein a group of women get together for cocktails or coffee, or at someone's home where we play games, eat, and share in some really entertaining smack-talk. This time, we were meeting at Chili's, and I had invited "Joplin" to join us, since she was in town anyway.

After we sat down, she was behaving with affection, holding my hands across the table, and I was enjoying it so much, but still struggling with my brain in exhausted chaos. I was also still nervous. Which is not like me at all. I can only imagine that in my weakened state, with defenses down, I was unable to maintain my composure well.

We ordered drinks and I hoped that this would at least calm my nerves and maybe I could salvage my usual behavior out of that pile. Near the end of my second amaretto sour, My friend TJ appeared and I gave her a hug, and introduced her to Joplin. I had not seen her for a while. I began to catch up with her and also play with her a little. My friends know that I like to poke at them a little, make jokes and all in good fun--they all seem fine with it. I have been told that's one of the main things they enjoy about me--my tendency toward wit. So I was starting to feel better and was beginning to enjoy myself. I included Joplin in the good-natured ribbing and such, and then Joplin said "You are just showing out now that your friend is here. You're showing off for your friend." Now first of all, showing off WHAT exactly? And second of all, this smacked of her playing teacher in a classroom. I am not one of her students and that remark was just condescending. I wondered why I had not noticed that she was that intolerant, judgmental and thin-skinned. She wasn't that way on the phone. I was playing, and never did I say anything mean. And she had repeatedly praised my range of emotion and periodic intensity when we talked on the phone. Then, suddenly in person, the rules had changed and she did not like who I am.The double-entendre irony here is that she teaches MUSIC to KIDS and yet, doesn't seem to know how to PLAY.

But it seemed she was somehow offended by my behavior, and even accused me of being a little drunk. I was not. and I do not get drunk--hardly ever. I had had a meal, and two drinks. So I made some joke about it--like "Uh oh. I'm in trouble."

I ordered an iced tea next, just in case the alcohol was clouding my perspective. But my perspective was pretty accurate, as her disgust seemed to continue; to include her response to my other friends who joined us. She did a lot of eye rolling and made a lot of displeased faces at what they said, and jiggled her leg and tapped her foot under the table and pretty much ignored me.

At one point she mentioned she was cold from the breeze coming through the front door, and I said "Would you like me to come sit next to you to block the cold?" and she said with consistent COLDNESS, "No."

When my best friend arrived, i went to sit next to Joplin to make room for my friend across from me. I made several attempts to smooth things over. I passed a note on a napkin that said "I'm sorry." I touched her leg, I touched her back, her hand, tried to make eye contact. She remained sullen and continued to pull away, ignore my efforts, and ceased to engage me personally. I felt she had put me in "time-out"--again, like i was one of her students rather than a peer.

At one point, the topic of my ad on Craig's List came up. I had placed it to meet local women to date, and only recently discovered that it was a popular place for call-girls and the like to place euphemistic ads to get customers. Who knew? I didn't really, but it didn't matter, because I had met 7 new women, with whom I have become friends, and I am enjoying their company. Some of whom were at that table. So when Joplin made a few disparaging comments about Craig's List being a meat market, I was worried that it would insult the ladies who were there, since we had all met that way. They wanted to know where she had met me, and I told them Yahoo. I had paid to join just so I could talk to her. She still seemed haughty about the Craig's list thing. My best friend jumped in and said she'd encouraged me to do it, to help take that heat off, and Two of the other ladies even tried to make that point by saying something really nice about my ad and how they wanted to get to know me because I seemed so different and special, and they were glad they met me. However it was they said it, it was very nice, and I was flattered. But I don't think Joplin understood that she had just insulted everyone at the table. I mean, that's true about Craig's List, but it's also true that you can find almost anything else there, too. Justi said something like, "yeah, you can also find tractors and babysitters." And besides, what did she think Yahoo was? A knitting circle? People go on all the personals sites because they're looking for a date, a partner or a roll in the hay. At least Craig's List is diversified. Anyway. That was not a good moment.

Now, I don't think even if I have forgotten some small details, (which I'm sure I have, I wasn't exactly razor-sharp that night)or even if I had said something sarcastic that might have been a little testy, it qualified me to receive such an overt and extreme response from her. I wouldn't have made any remarks under my breath if I hadn't been treated so badly. But I still wanted to try to salvage it, just in case there were some inherent misunderstandings that could be worked out.

First, I felt I needed to explain some things--about how I was experiencing some old agoraphobia feelings (but didn't realize it until later in the evening) because my defenses were down...(sleep deprivation, not eating regularly, missing my thyroid meds, and being nervous about a date I felt might be meaningful after so long not having that)...but my agoraphobia/panic attacks aren't something I ever want to make a topic of conversation on a first date; yet felt that maybe I should, so she wouldn't get the wrong idea. I was very proud of the fact that I had made great strides in conquering that phobic response. I no longer needed to take a Xanax when I went out in public. So I leaned over and said into her ear, "We need to have a little talk. There's some things I want to explain to you." Meaning, of course, my past struggle with panic and agoraphobia, and my missed medicine. But she didn't seem happy to hear that either. Maybe it came out wrong. But I was so off-balance by this point. I tried to then go on to have fun, and the icing on the cake was when she spat, "Take a pill." Well for those of you who have ever experienced phobias like this, and then learned to control it, that was the last thing you need to hear. It felt like a knife. And then I sensed the anxiety response creep in. Do I need to take a pill again? Am I lying to myself? What am I thinking, that I can handle this? Why am I even here? It was a terrible turmoil, exacerbated by her coldness and cutting remarks.

Well I certainly wasn't going to tell her something that personal after that. I had other things to worry about. Like how I was going to keep from bursting into tears and bolting from the restaurant. So I just tried to take deep breaths and talk myself down as I had learned to do a long time ago. And I wished for another drink, but denied myself that source of calm, because I had to drive myself home and I don't drive if I've had more than 2 drinks. Instead, I tried to engage everyone else and listen to what they were saying. I got through that part, but it only got worse when we ended our evening, and made it outside.

I walked her toward her car, and I started to speak, saying, "Look, I'm sorry things went awry, maybe we can--"

She paused in the parking lot, turned and said, "Whatever it is you want to talk to me about, I can't do it now. Call me tomorrow..." then, "What you said to me was very confrontational" and then somethign to the affect of her not liking it...

I said, "What? Which thing?"

She quoted, caustically, we need to have a little talk.

She left out the second part of that: '...there are some things I need to explain to you...'

Before I could recover from her hatefulness and intolerance, and the day in general, she turned and got into her car and drove away. I was left standing there, feeling like a fool, and wondering if I had really just been reprimanded again like one of her students. What would have made more sense to me, and been a great deal more mature was if she had said, "I know this date went a little off kilter and we should talk about it tomorrow, but i have to get up early, so I need to go. Thanks for dinner, the roses, the Cd's and inviting me to join you and your friends for cocktails. Call me tomorrow. " followed by a hug.

But that's not how it went down.

What was my sin? What could I have possibly done that was so worthy of her disdain? Was it the three roses in the vase I gave her? Three CD's of my original music? The 4 copies of my books I ordered for her to read because she said she'd like to? The lunch I bought her at Red Lobster? The invitation to a cocktail gathering with my friends? The offer to sit next to her to block the cold? Having a good time for a few seconds finally after a stressful day? These were my SINS?

I went back to talk to Justi, to see if she was coming over or going home and she said she had to get home, but saw I was upset, so we sat in her Jeep and talked about it. She knows more about me than anyone else on the planet and she has always been the sort of friend most people can only hope for. She loves me because she knows I'm worth loving. So what was the problem with Joplin? I asked her. Did I do or say something wrong? She said, "Not that I could see. She seemed to be in a constant state of disgust with everything anyone said."

I sat there and cried like a baby because was so disappointed, so humiliated, so disillusioned, so confused and SO EXHAUSTED. She, of course, made me feel better about it, including telling me that if that woman couldn't see all the wonderful things I had to offer, she was blind, and I was better off without her.

Before starting home, I sent Joplin a text asking her to please let me know she got home okay. She texted back, Got home a little bit ago. The drive was fine. Thanks for asking.

I responded. Ok.
and she said Ok. Talk to you later.

I went home feeling like crap, took my thyroid meds and a big dose of sleep meds and caught up on my missing sleep.

I wasn't sure what to make of the night before, but when I woke up I immediately checked my email and turned on my phones but there was no sign of Joplin. I figured she was at work and busy, and didn't think much of it. Around noon I got an email from her that said:

Hi Jae,


I hope you're having a good morning. I'm a little tired, but I'll be fine. I had a lovely time with you at lunch. Thank you. I'm sorry that you were nervous. It was quite stressful for me too. It was a lot of new people for me to meet all in one shot. I know some of them were new for you too, but some of them you've known for a while. I was glad that I stayed and hung out and met your friends. They're all very nice. I had fun.


Have a great day.

Now, this threw me because it sounded so normal, but in this case, it was inappropriately normal. It seemed she was acting like nothing had happened; being polite, but it seemed disingenuous to me, and smacked of playing games. I didn't know if she had switched into "just friends" or was ignoring it, or what.

I wrote back,

I also enjoyed meeting you at lunch and glad you joined the Hen Party Happy Hour too.


Understand, though, that what was going on with me was much more than just nerves and perhaps you have no way of knowing some of it. I was exhausted, but there was more going on, some I mentioned, some I did not. I spent the few hours after you left being very upset and trying to understand it; then I took a heavy dose of sleep medicine so I could finally get 8 hours of rest. Since getting up, I've spent the morning thinking about last night and how everything went awry. It's hard for me to make a complete assessment, because I think I'm missing some crucial information that only you can provide. I am very confused about what was going on for you, and I'm sorry for anything I might have done to make it exacerbate the negative. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, insult you, or otherwise make you sorry you had met me. I hope that you will want to talk on the phone about it, as I would still like to believe that those other conversations we had showed promise, because there was some promise. Translating that into an in-person dynamic, can, at times, be challenging. I will leave it up to you whether you believe I'm worth that effort, and wish to pursue it.


I hope to talk to you soon. Please let me know your thoughts.
Jae

When I didn't hear from her all day and into late evening, I just figured maybe she was busy, but was a little miffed that she hadn't at least said something to me to let me know what was happening, after what had gone down on the date. I mean, her email was a little formal in tone, and I thought she and I had gone past that stage. I thought she'd at least tell me she intended to talk about the issue when she could make some time...something. But no. By this time I had thought about all of it. I had mind-mapped it on my big desk pad, trying to make sense of it, figuring out what to say to her that would make sense, and taking notes so that I would NOT seem incoherent like I was on the date. And I had become a little angry, too. Looking at all of it mapped out, it started to become clear that I had done nothing wrong, and had certainly not deserved the treatment I got from her.

I didn't hear from her the rest of the day and into the late evening.

Next morning, I sent a text.

me: Do you have any intention of speaking to me again?
Her: of course. Right now I'm at a band contest & getting ready to do some accompaniments for students. I had drumline until late yesterday evening. Been busy.

ME: Be that as it may...I expected u to have the courtesy to let me know that, after you reprimanded me in a parking lot like I was one of your students.

HER: I'm not gonna fight with you if that's what you are wanting. Sometimes I teach from 7am until late at night. I didn't reprimand you. Grow some patience.

(*Note that right after she said she wasn't reprimanding me, she reprimanded me.)

ME: No fighting. Just this. Wrong answer, both times. Reprimand followed by a dismissal and then more condescension. It would have taken two seconds to let me know. That's not about impatience, that's about courtesy. You should grow some of that. all done here.

HER: I don't want to fight. Fine.

I didn't respond. Didn't intend to either. Then another text from her:

HER: Courtesy would have been you telling me to my face you wanted to talk with me instead of comments under your breath directed at me. Plus look at me when you talk

Telling her to her face? I had done that. That night, I had leaned over and said, "We need to have a little talk, There's some things I need to explain to you." We were, after all, at a table with four other people in a social situation. I did not think it was a good idea to ask her to step outside. That would have drawn too much attention to something that should have been discrete. Never mind that. Never mind that she was being cold, insulting and ignoring me. Of course I was making comments under my breath. I was insulted and could not get her to respond to my "I'm sorry" notes on the napkin, or the touch on her leg under the table, or my hand on her back, or trying to catch her eyes... No response of a hand squeeze or a simple "We'll talk about this later, lets just have a good time, " and then pat me on the leg or something. I mean, throw me a bone.

...and the "you were not looking at me..." --right, I was not looking at her, because I already tried that several times, and she would say "What?" and act like it bothered her. And more pointedly, she was sitting next to me at the time, and MY EYES ARE NOT MOUNTED ON MY EARS.

*it's the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, and while I am loathe to compare myself to a camel, perhaps I need to learn to traverse the desert of relationships with a little more survival skill. I have been advised that these are the usual pitfalls of standard dating. But I have not enjoyed much standard dating. I've got a goal to do that, in spades, but I can't say I'm looking forward to more of what I got the other night. I mean, the person who was on that date with me was not the same person I talked to on the phone. That girl on the phone was not thin-skinned, or judgmental, or condescending, tight-assed, or lacking in social graces. She was easy going, attentive, funny, engaging, accepting, and had all kinds of wonderful things to say about how much she liked me and who I was. I brought that person *I* was on the phone to the date, but she didn't bring the person *she* was.

Does everyone misrepresent themselves? Is self-delusion rampant? Was she playing me? Which version of her was the authentic version? I suspect the answer to that is 'the one I went out with."

So, I am nursing fresh disillusionment with people, with romance, with dating, and with the basics of good communication and courtesy. I'm sure I'll have plenty more chances to have this experience again. I just hope the outcome is more positive.

Ditto

Brain Sex

For the first time in a long time, I feel that there might just be better things on the horizon for me.

I had a phenomenal 6+ HOUR conversation last night on the phone, and it made me so happy to have such great rapport with someone. Communication is vital to me, and last night was a validation of why it's such an important part of my life. I have always enjoyed what i call "brain sex"--that is, engaging someone intellectually in a way that is so satisfying and inspiring, that you feel some chemical in your brain has been re-routed to the pleasure center. The perfect combination for me is conversation that includes thoughtful exchange, openness, honesty and frequent laughter. All that was present in this conversation. I went to sleep thinking about it, and I woke up thinking about it. I could not wait to speak to her again, and I am anxious to meet her in person and spend still more time getting to know her on that level. I feel..........lucky. This is not a feeling I've had with much frequency in years...i can only hope this is a portent of things to come.

Brain Sex

I'm having (gulp) good luck.

Things seem to be trending my way. Anyone who knows my recent history knows that that is a milestone all by itself. I have been too isolated for a long time and have been trying to arrange a relocation to the Denver/Boulder area, but that's a process that will take some time. Meanwhile, I wanted to have a social life again. So I placed an ad on Craig's List. Now, if someone had told me this before, I would have done Craig's list instead of the 40 other dating sites. Hands down, I have had more luck meeting women because of that ad than with all the other ads combined. I have made some really great new friends. There are EIGHT new women in my life.

There is one exception to the Craig's list thing: A teacher from Joplin with a really cool name, which I regrettably will have to omit for reasons of privacy, etc. But i met her on Yahoo. I had to make it a paid membership just to talk to her--and told her that this, in fact, meant she'd be obligated to go on a date with me. LOL. But it looks promising, in that I am a little excited about her. She's cute, and we texted (OMG, i hate texting...she's one of those people who send you three text messages while you're still typing in the answer to the first one. My phone started smoldering...I'm either going to have to avoid it altogether or get a Blackberry) Finally I called her and said "Oh my god!" We chatted for a few minutes, and she was on her way out of town, but hopefully I'll be able to meet her soon. Might be able to talk on phone with her tonight after my date. (Yes. I have a date on Valentine's day, for once.) Oh, and "Joplin" also plays racquetball, so hopefully I'll have a partner for that soon, again. I miss it.

I've also signed on as an Independent Rep for NJOY, electronic Cigarettes--about which I am extremely enthused. This product has allowed me to quit smoking tobacco for good. After 25 years of trying to quit. I am all about eCigs now.

I also have several new proofreaders for those 13 books I continue to jerk out of print and edit again and again. I needed fresh eyes. So soon i will have final versions of all 13 back on Amazon. And I am working on about 6 others, that I hope to finish this year.

I have some extra money nowadays as well, which has made a big difference too. I'm actually able to go and do and buy. That's also a welcome change. (Now if I can just procure that lucrative contract with a mainstream publisher, I'll be set. ).

I've met many of my major goals--the only big personal one i have now is to lose that extra lard I've gathered....I'll have to finally put that DVD in the player and work out to the cardio-from-hell routine...i tried it a month ago, and after five minutes, i thought I would die. Unbelievable how strenuous it is. But it's just what I need now.

Maybe I'll even (finally) sell my land in Alamosa. (anyone?).

So anyway, this is more a journal entry than a blog, but I felt it was important for me to commemorate that my life seems to be going in a positive direction now. 'bout time.

I'm having (gulp) good luck.