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| This is, arguably, going to be my final passage on Xanga before I sign off for keeps.
My life has been recently inundated with a maelstrom of engagements. No, no, no, I am not implying that my day planner is packed to the max with activities; I am referring to impending weddings. Needless to say, the amount of engagements that have happened in the last two months has been overwhelming. Overwhelming enough that I conceptualize it like my own personal, zombie apocalypse.
It sounds ridiculous, but it's true. A select few girls (acquaintances...not close friends) that have become engaged come after me with this manic, glazed look, and a sparkling stone on their fingers. They stumble after me like predators because all of a sudden, they have become experts on all things relational. Suddenly, I am no longer adequate with my current relational status, and my current relational views. The fact that I am dating without being hellbent on ending up in a marriage is stupid. All of a sudden, these select few girls are trying to cram me into a box that I do not fit into; right next to a sparkly ring that has my name on it.
Meanwhile, I am running for my life, hand-in-hand with my independent self, to get away from them, and their compartmentalization.
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| There is this stereotype that if a man goes to a park with a cute dog (or possibly a baby and/or small child) that he will meet all sorts of women because women are drawn to small things like moths are drawn to bug-zapping lights. I never contemplated that there are available tactics for women to utilize until recently.
It has come to my attention that my car--aka The Green Lantern--is a "man-gnet." It is all purely a fluke too, because I did not purchase this car thinking "Now every man will bend to my will and wiles!." However, every guy that sees my car makes a comment about the supposed V6 engine (which is indiscreetly divulged in silver on the side of the vehicle). The power of the V6 has suddenly made me "cool by association," or something like that.
And so there you have it. I control a "Man-gnet."
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| This point needs to be stressed: telling a guy that you are a lesbian only encourages him to keep hitting on you. Somewhere, in the dark crevices of the male psyche, the thought of a woman loving on another woman is...attractive. Likewise, telling a man that you have a boyfriend is another knee-jerk reply that is futile. It only makes you a challenge. Several alternative options need to be considered before resorting to the same playing card. For example:
- "Would you like to see a picture of my 4-year-old son?"
- "Yes, I would love to grab lunch with you sometime. Do you know of any organic, vegan cafes in the area?"
- "I'm sorry, I do not speak English." (This needs to be followed up with you walking away)
- "Tuesday is no good, I have class that day. I'm an existential feminist student working on my doctorate in psychology. My main thesis is on the pragmatism of the third wave of CBT, otherwise known as dialectical behavioral therapy, and how it is inane when working with a Romulan population. I also dabble in neurobiology, but that's just in my spare time. What did you say your name was?" (The intellectual snob card is always a winner).
This stockpile of ammunition will guarantee success whenever "Larry the Mechanic" crosses your path and asks you out to lunch.
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| It's official. I am "all growed up," as I take my place as a graduate student of clinical psychology. Today was the first day of classes. The leaf has finally turned, and it seems like this past year has taken forever, and a few hours. I have a stack of "[wholesome] adult literature" piled up on my floor (you know, the boring, scholastic kind that does not involve pictures or colored graphs).
And for all those people out there in blog land who have watched Freaks and Geeks, you will appreciate the title of today's broadcast. In addition to being the favored character on the short-lived program, he also happens to be the individual that meets with me in coffee shops on a weekly basis to play board games.
To give you all fair warning, this blog will probably be terminated sometime in the days between now and Christmas.
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| THIS is my kind of love song. The lyrics are included down below. Librarian, by My Morning Jacket. Walk across the courtyard, towards the library.
I can hear the insects buzz and the leaves 'neath my feet...
Ramble up the stairwell, into the hall of books...
Since we got the interweb these hardly get used.
Duck into the men's room... combing through my hair...
When god gave us mirrors he had no idea...
Looking for a lesson in the periodicals...
There I spy you listening to the AM radio...
Karen of the carpenters- singing in the rain...
Another lovely victim of the mirror's evil way.
It's not like you're not trying, with a pencil in your hair
To defy the beauty the good lord put in there...
Simple little bookworm- buried underneath...
Is the sexiest librarian... take off those glasses and let down your hair for me.
So I watch you through the bookcase- imaging a scene:
You and I at dinner, spending time, then to sleep.
And what then would I say to you- lying there in bed?
These words, with a kiss, I would plant in your head:
"What is it inside our heads that makes us do the opposite?
Makes us do the opposite of what's right for us?
Cause everything'd be grrreat... and everything'd be good...
If everybody gave... like everybody could."
Sweetest little bookworm. hidden underneath...
Is the sexiest librarian...
Take off those glasses and let your hair down for me.
Take off those glasses and let your hair down for me.
Simple little beauty- heaven in your breath.
The simplest of pleasures- the world at it's best.
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