i don’t even know if you still read this. but i wanted to say publicly that i am really sorry for being in bitch mode tonight. it was probably a hormonal thing combined with several otherwise minor irritations which i have already detailed to you. you didn’t seem to think i was sincere when i apologized earlier. but i was.

please forgive me.

he called me 3 times from the road yesterday. he called me just as his phone was losing service up in ****. and he took a picture of himself with his phone and emailed it to me…

this disturbs me greatly for some reason.

what did he want?

he didnt seem to have any actual reason for calling me. so i think it could have been that he has some idea that ‘boy should call girl he likes because girls like boys who call them’.
or another possiblity is that i am so unbelievable fascinating that he cant stand to not hearing my voice for more than 2 hours.
or, he has some reason for calling me but cant spit it out.

he called me like a million times the day before too. with nothing to say. until i prompted him “so what are you doing tonight” and then he was like “oh im having some dinner with friends… you could come!”
“if you want, i mean, i am inviting you.”

okay dude. then invite me. then he proceeded to call me like 4 more times.

so i guess this means he likes me? which is shocking since apparently he has spent the last 10 years dating extremely hot stippers… ones who liked to string him up and electrocute him.

why is he now calling me (a short, plumpish, cute girl) (cute… not HOT) all the time? there are no more hot strippers left in this city?

i asked him this and he said “well, you can’t take them home with you”

why not? if your dating them you CAN take them home. possibly he was just paying for it and didnt want to admit it.

plus. this guy is even more emotionaly clueless than i am. although that puts me in a position of power it also makes me a bit uneasy.

soulless got me thinking with his post about movies and so-called chick flicks.

chick flicks to me are movies which are predictable and vapid, like ‘the wedding planner’ and ‘how to lose a guy in 10 days’ and ‘miss congeniality’. although they are funny, when i’m done watching them there is no further consideration of them or their impact on anything in my life. he makes a good point about the term ‘chick flick’ though – we girls should really be more pissed off that people think because we are female we enjoy vapid crap like that.

i like a good action movie, even a predictable one. we should possibly tag the men with those and call them ‘dick flicks’ or something, the ones that are straight shoot-em-up films where a muscular guy shoots everything and lets god sort them out.

i’m not much on strictly indie films or artsy films. but there are major films with major stars which i firmly consider to be art, because after watching them you can see the craft, the fact that there is a craft to filmmaking. i watched those award shows for years before ever knowing what the fuck great editing was or why good wardrobe or sound effects were important. i think the film that opened my eyes was probably pulp fiction. it could have just been that it came out at a time when i was old enough to actually pay some attention instead of just concentrating on the story. i started analyzing movies after that, the same way i’d been taught to analyze literature in comp 101. and a movie that can be analyzed, that makes me mull over the plot or the characters for days on end and have talks about it with friends over coffee, fucking rocks my world.

some examples of movies that fill me full of this kind of joy are ‘memento’, ‘american beauty’, ‘requiem for a dream’, ‘the untouchables’, etc. i adore movies where the plot and the characters have layers that can be peeled away and examined. those are my favorite kind.

‘mulholland drive’ was a strange film because the plot disintigrated at the end, but the entire movie was so visually gorgeous – the actors, the colors, the makeup and wardrobe and scenery – it was so vivid and perfect, like a masterful painting with all the right amount of light and shadows and perspective. but in the end, the plot wound up sucking ass. still, i could probably watch it again just to gape at the prettiness of it.

i also have a place for movies like ‘ghost’ and ‘city of angels’ and ‘pay it forward’. those movies are less artful, but evoke such strong emotion that it’s worth it anyway. may i just say that kevin spacey is the fucking bomb and that damn near anything he touches is golden in my book.

movies containing clint eastwood and john wayne fucking suck in my opinion, because they are about the flattest actors i have ever seen. there is no range of emotion whatsoever in anything they do. and i hate that 99% of men consider them to be gods of cinema. jeff goldblum also teeters dangerously on this cliff, but he often manages to pick roles where the lovable geek he plays in every single film is actually appropriate to the script, so i overlook his lack of range most of the time.

oh yeah, i need to also mention ‘unfaithful’. because though i can rarely stand richard gere, every performance delivered by every actor in a major role in that film was so completely dead on that the beauty of it nearly broke me in half.

it’s happening again.

is there some sort of pre-midlife crisis that someone scheduled me for without telling me? because i am really having trouble shaking this whole thing, i tell you. and vh1 is making it worse.

i love the 70s and i love the 80s are two radically different series. clearly there was stuff in the 70s. in the 80s there was really only weird hair and one-hit wonders. and of course cocaine. can you make ten whole episodes based around those things? apparently if you hire the right celebrity commentators you can.

i do not have any family traditions steeped in time-honored religion or ethnic culture. my family has pretty much been american since the dawn of time. my ancestral fathers whacked my ancestral mothers in the head with clubs they made out of trees in like minnesota or something and dragged them all the way to cleveland. they went from grunting to speaking english, with no languages in between.

i am too young to remember the 70s stuff, or so the people who do tell me, even though i haven’t seen anything on that show that i can’t easily identify except that stupid mime show. and 80s kids were caught between the carefree time when people could drive without seatbelts and the dangerous time when kids get stolen out of their front yards while their parents are home. old enough to love madonna, too young to go to her shows. old enough to be a latchkey kid, too young to host keg parties. teendom in the 90s was pretty much devoid of anything meaningful except hair metal, date rape and ecstasy. and being an adult in the 21st century means you go straight to the dot-com layoffs and terrorism and more crap in the middle east than ever without any sort of interesting childhood to go on.

when i say i remember when i was a kid, we used to my voice trails off because what the fuck did we used to do? there was no sneaking into movie theaters or watching baseball games from the roofs of our apartment buildings or practicing the latest disco moves in our bedrooms. we skipped school, smoked in the bathroom, got detention, and snuck out of our houses past curfew to go do absolutely nothing worthwhile. which all generations have done and will continue to do. we ate just-add-water food because our parents both worked and we never learned to cook for ourselves, not real meals anyway. how many times have i said to a potential boyfriend come over to my place tonight for dinner, i make a mean hamburger helper cheesy mac! we can also have iced tea which i make from a can and one of those delectable caesar salads from a bag. with a jell-o no-bake cheesecake for dessert.

there is nothing really that special about me at all except that i have enough brains to look around and notice this crap. and that i try to be a nice person mostly. nobody can ever say about me i used to date this irish girl, what a temper she had! or this latina chick i dated, she used to scream out in spanish every time she came!

it seems to me that for so many people to be crying out against labels and stereotypes based on race or religion there are an awful lot of people who cling to them and use them as shields. then when something happens that they don’t like, they bash you over the head with them whether they are relevant or not. and though i hate to say it i am starting to understand i think where the american white male is coming from with the idea of being the new minority. i suppose in desperate circumstances i could always cry sexism, because there is of course that whole glass ceiling thing, which i am also too young to claim.

but i am still just a regular american 20ish white girl, and that’s all.

me: i want a porn star twat.
him: i could do that for you, you know.
me: what experience do you have shaving pubic hair?
him: hello? i shave my face all the time.
me: yes, but facial hair grows in one direction.
him: everything has a grain. trust me.
me: trust you? down there??
him: you’ve trusted me down there before.
me: not with a cutting instrument…
him: i’m good with tools.
me: so you want me to let you shave my ass?
him: um. do you have a hairy ass?
me: everyone has ass hair. except porn stars, because they wax.
him: …
me: that’s what a brazilian wax is and why i’m so scared of it.
him: really?
me: yah, they call it brazilian because then you can wear a brazilian bikini. which is usually a thong or a g-string.
him: oh. i didn’t know that.
me: you just want me to take my pants off.
him: well, yeah. so?

here is what i do not understand.

i have this friend who is smart and pretty and generally cool. she has always had problems with her computer and no matter how i try to help her with them she is one of those people who just will never understand. she should get a geek for a boyfriend and then all her problems will be solved.

also her printer somehow never ever works, for various reasons. right now she doesn’t have one because her brother kept the old one when she moved out. so she e-mailed me and asked me if my printer was working (it is) and could i please print out something for her (no problem).

the weird part is that she lives about fifteen miles from me. and we don’t ever run into each other except for maybe once a month at a mutual friend’s house because we don’t work together, go to school together, or anything else really. weirder still is that the thing she wants me to print out for her today is a map and directions to somewhere she has to be this weekend.

so i am supposed to believe that she will drive over here to pick up these directions tomorrow? or that she expects me to drive to her place to drop them off (i have other plans this weekend already)? or possibly i should drive them to the friend’s house and leave them there for her to pick up at her leisure? they live closer to me but still.

if i were in that situation, and i have been, i would probably write the directions down from the screen with a good old fashioned pen and paper. and then maybe actually buy or borrow a road map or something if i needed to take it with me. possibly call the person that i was going to visit and ask them for directions?? am i making absolutely no sense here?

i don’t want to be a bitch and i am sure her intentions are good. but she is smart and i don’t know why this stuff doesn’t occur to her.

okay, i’ve been sitting on about a dozen links for about two weeks now. blogs of other people who have permalinked us and even some who come here and comment and stuff. i blogrolled them all so i wouldn’t forget them, but the drop-down menu over there doesn’t work off blogrolling. so today i am finally going to edit the code, i promise.

i’ll do it right now.

I was only dreaming. I was only trying to catch your eye. I wanted you to notice me. Instead you said good bye.

Yeah, its true. I just quoted a pop song.

Doesn’t everyone have songs that just bring them into the past incredibly stongly. they are like a portkey to the past. I hear them and feel a hook behind my belly button whirling me through time and whoosh… out on theother side to watch a younger me going about her business. Most of the time I whoosh out into the passenger seat of my car. Which is kinda boring but makes sense because that is when I would have been listening to the song. But I know I am on my way to or from somewhere important if I end up there. i can cast about and figure out what I was thinking.

I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE FUCkING TELL YOU SOMETHING IS WRONG AND ACT LIKE HOW DARE YOU NOT BE IN A GODDAMNED FUCXKING GOOD MOOD ALL THE TIME, BECAUSE AFTER ALL THEY SLEPT WITH A GODDAMNED PROSTITIUTE.

so i guess i decided that the fourth date would be a good time to have sex. i was mostly right. the sex was fun. wait the rolling around and stuff was fun. the actual act of penetration didn’t go so well. my body was not cooperating and i could find the lube.

what the hell kind of girl am i? couldn’t find the astroglide?! jeezus h. christ.

well. it wasn’t in the usual place. my box of sex stuff was buried under a million other things and contained no lube. oh well. We just went the mostly oral sex route. was vaguely embarrassing. but not really.

next time right? i will go buy some of those little things of lube you pay way too much for at the porn shop. I’ll scatter them liberally around the house so they will always be accessible.

Here’s a question. i have this nice leather cock ring with velcro closure. i like it. i like putting it on people. they’re just so cute. but is it okay to want to use it on this new guy? as in clearly i have put it on other people.
a used cock ring? ew. possibly a guy would find that distasteful. i didnt ask since it is generally a bad idea to whip out the cock ring and nipple clips on the first sexual encounter. if you haven’t discussed it that is.

anyway. i am hoping that sex the second time will work out better. either my body will cooperate or i will freaking have some lube handy.

i fell asleep instantly afterwards.

years and years ago… before i had a crappy desk job… i was an art student.

but i dated the older men. the ones with jobs. they were shitty email correspondents. i would write them an email and then not so patiently wait, refreshing the screen, over and over for their reply. and then when it didn’t come i would be ultra pissed off. later they would be like “dude, ellie, i was in a meeting. chill the fuck out.”

“being in a meeting” wildly impressed me (keep in mind i was a young’un). however, i am no longer young and meetings still impress me. i LOVE going to meetings. even if they suck and are boring. which they always are.

being in a meeting makes me feel grown up. if i ever went on a business trip i think my cup would runth over. that won’t ever happen tho. no one trusts me for shit since they can tell that i am not really a grown up.

it’s getting to be about time i become one tho. depressing.

i just caught this show on mtv called totally gay! and it was a bunch of celebrities who are gay and gay-friendly talking about how everything is so gay now and how great it is. and they all insisted that there are all these straight boys who are watching will and grace and suddenly gaining insight into how to groom themselves properly and how to behave so that women will like them better.

um. huh?

they talked to some hetboys who have recently started shaving their junk. is this a commodity which was previously exclusive to the gay market? because i have seen plenty of shaved junk in het porn flicks. these same men also have begun shaving their chests, arms, and legs because women allegedly like that better.

what the fuck are they talking about?

there were also some people pointing out how jackass has started “blurring the line” (ugh) between straight and gay because there are crazy men running around naked all the time and shooting each other in the asses with high-speed tennis ball machines.

i don’t know any gay men who engage in streaking or belong to clubs where shooting a tennis ball at someone’s butt is the main attraction. none at all.

i was sort of confused too. all those chicks who do their stories in the buff on naked news, are they exhibiting stereotypical dyke behavior? because it is somehow “gay” to be running around naked in public? i mean everybody knows that queers have no shame and don’t know how to behave properly in public, right?

to make it worse, cool people like gina gershon and melissa etheridge and john waters all were there, smiling and nodding like this is all okay stuff to assume. i wonder when was the last time melissa ran through a sporting goods store wearing only a jock strap and a hockey mask?

this really kind of offends me. i mean, yes, there are funny stereotypes that people joke about, like about gay men being better dancers or knowing how to accessorize better than straight men. but i always took exception to the phrase “straight-acting”, because in my book, the only true way anyone can look at you and think that you are straight is if they witness you having sex with the opposite sex. because isn’t that what “straight” is?

so many people describe gay men as “effeminate” and lesbians as “masculine”. which is truthfully utter bullshit, because i have seen so-called “effeminate” gay men swishing around, and no straight woman i have ever seen walks with her wrist limp like that. so to say they are walking like a woman is just stupid. similarly, i don’t know any men who wear their hair like rosie o’donnell (well maybe those flock of seagulls guys), but her haircut is apparently “masculine”.

gay does not automatically mean that you are sensitive, or that you can cook, or that you know that forest green clashes with mint green. it can certainly mean all those things. but i have known some downright violent gay men, some who hated anal sex, and some whose personal hygiene and housekeeping abilities put the frat boys to shame. i also have known straight men who cook like martha fucking stewart and always have time to listen to whatever my latest bitch is. i have been a fag hag and a stag hag, and sexuality has nothing whatsoever to do with it, i swear.

i think it’s important to one’s self-identity to be able to fit into a category where certain things are concerned, like sex. a label like heterosexual or homosexual is also a very handy way to indicate to someone whether they would be remotely compatible with you, or if they are wasting their time buying you a drink because they are not what you are into.

but it is really fucking unnerving that labels which evolved as descriptors of one’s sexual preferences have become blanket terms which people assume detail one’s personality, choice of music, politics, and so on.

the million dollar question, of course, is what does society define as stereotypically “bisexual” behavior? this i just have to know.

and i’m sure if i watch mtv for another week, i’ll find out.

here’s my big debate:

birthcontrol.
handy for not getting pregnant.
reduces hormone induced acne.
makes me gain like 15 lbs.

fat with no acne? or skinny with acne?

i used to think that one’s slut factor was directly proportional to how many sexual partners one has enjoyed. and since mine number more than what i guess is societally acceptable, i have embraced the term as my own for several years now.

however, now that i am older, i think that it has less to do with how many people you sleep with and more with how fast you sleep with them. have i had sex with more than a dozen people? easily. did i forget some of their names? sure, because they ceased to be important in my life eventually. but out of those people, i didn’t give it up immediately for very many of them – maybe three. which is really like one every ten years. and doing something slutty with someone you barely know once every ten years is actually kind of tame, if you know what i mean.

don’t take this to mean that i don’t still do slutty things because of course i do. however they tend to be with people that i know very well.

so there is apparently a fine line between being completely frigid and an utter slut. and women have to walk this line ever so carefully.

i wonder which a man would really truly prefer to deal with on a regular basis, a woman who gives it up on the promise of one drink or a woman who is incapable of relaxing enough to give it up even after several drinks?

which is worse, no-maintenance or high-maintenance?

i mean, you know that the frigid chick hasn’t been around the block a hundred times, which is kind of cool i guess. and of course men love the chase anyway, which makes bagging the slut kind of pointless. but at least with the slut, they get what they are after, while the frigid chick may not ever give in. and even though they like to fight, fighting a battle that you will never ever win gets old pretty quick.

possibly the solution is to be neither frigid nor slutty? because one can certainly roleplay either of those should the need arise. and since you are roleplaying, you can quickly adjust your behavior to his tolerance level.

i know one guy who pursues chicks relentlessly for months until they agree to sleep with him. i also know another guy who looks the other way and acts completely oblivious even as girls are flinging themselves unabashedly at him. so it would seem that some women also enjoy either playing hard-to-get or attempting to score with a guy who appears unattainable.

these are the things i think about at three a.m. once it hits four a.m. though i’m up and rooting around in the cupboard for cookies.

wouldn’t it be supercool if they made color-changing paint for cars, like they do for toenails? i said out loud. you could have an old lincoln continental that would be deep red in the driveway, i continued, and it would change to baby blue when you were driving it around town.

that would be stupid, he pointed out. then all you would have to do is rob a bank and drive to a car wash, and the cops would never catch you.

i never thought of that, really. i just like the way my toenails change color when i step into a cold shower.

nobody to talk to
for three days.

smoking and smoking and smoking
with nobody to talk to
for three long days.

crisis averted
or so it would seem
after three long, hot days.

where have you been all my life?

sitting right here
in long lines of hot, slow traffic
for three unbearable days.

i want to cocoon
and read shakespeare, and plath, and pound
for three sweet days.

could someone please tell me who is miss mary mack, mack, mack, and why is she all dressed in black, black, black?

you say i am too negative.
i say i am prepared.

you say i am anal.
i say i am detail-oriented.

you say i am too nice.
i say i am diplomatic.

you say i obsess over the past.
i say i use my experience for the future.

dear summer,

could you please, please get just a little bit more hot and humid? because those of us without central air are just not quite fucking miserable enough. thanks for always being there.

love,
emmie

did not sleep with boy on second date.

3rd and 4th dates are coming up this week… what to do?

god, im kinda nervous about it. i think it has been almost a year? at least 8 months since i’ve had sex. i almost thought i had forgotten how to make out.

i need to stock up on fresh sex supplies.
like my fall school supplies?
a new notebook, some condoms, pencils, pencil sharpener, a ball gag…

he’s fuzzy. i’m not used to fuzzy. but it was nice. he was into the mild biting. great at neck kissing. i need to ask him what the hell he was doing so i can do it back. it was great. understood not to let me go if i struggled a bit. heh.

hmm. okay now i’m excited again. but really. i am nervous about the sex thing. possibly because i dont know him all that well yet.

girl meets girl.
girl likes girl.
girls drink, dance, and dine.
girls go home together and have amazing sex.
girl leaves, promising to call girl.

girl calls girl.
girl invites girl on another date.
girl lies and says she is busy.
girls hang up.

there is such a thing as getting too close too fast. especially for this girl. sex does not equal closeness – it never has. it is far easier for girl to give a hundred blowjobs to complete strangers than for her to share her most secret thoughts with someone she is not completely sure will keep them safe.

trample them before they trample you. you know the drill.

Be careful of exerting your will too strongly towards someone who really isn’t entirely receptive to it. Be conscious of how other people are feeling at this time. When it comes to love and romance, be gentle. You have a yellow light, meaning that it is OK to proceed, but use extra caution in making sure that the other person is receptive to your advances. Don’t come across as too aggressive and end up making a fool of yourself.

which means that gang rape i had planned for my girlfriend today is right out.

i better sync my palm, then.

and she was sitting there eating her big mac and yapping to her little friend seeming to not at all notice that her purple satin thong was hanging out the back of her ass-crack pants. she was sitting directly in front of the window, so everyone who walked in got a good look at her butt cheeks. also she was strategically placed right near that stupid plastic playground they keep the kids in. what the fuck? do i really need to see your ass cheeks while i am trying to get a meal?

i have noticed that when i am having a bad day there are conveniently double the number of asshole idiot drivers on the road preventing me from being where i want to be in any sort of timely manner whatsoever. i think i gave like eight people the finger and said the word fuckhead about a dozen times during the five minute drive from my apartment to mcdonald’s. which is of course the site of the glaring purple satin thong hugged by ass cheeks with tan lines.

possibly it is just that i am more sensitive to the exact same number of idiot drivers? and the flag guy that i felt sorry for was gone today and last night, apparently someone decided the barrels would do. a shame too, because yesterday and today were not bad weather at all for standing outside unlike all the putrid humid days when i saw him out there sweating.

i bought myself a lemonade coollatta instead, and swore at the assmunch in front of me at the drive-thru.

i fucking hate that chick. HATE HER.

at least i get to fuck this guy and she doesn’t. yeah hahahaha. i know you have had a crush on him forever and he has no interest in you what-so-ever.
so there.

she is so fucking smug. but at the same time it is like she is trying desperately to convince everyone around her, and herself even, that her life is great.

she brags about her job all the time. i assume she must get paid an assload since she has a 2000 a month apartment. which she kindly told us all. whatever. she is pathetic. she’s boring. and she looks funny.

how long should i wait to have sex with someone new?
that i am dating i mean?

i don’t really want to just have sex right away.

how long does it take to know if you really like someone? or if they are compatible?

i always make dumb desicions about guys. i fall in love right way and sign away my soul to the devil.

the very best reason for you to leave work at work is because i do not want to even consider the level of physical danger you put yourself in every day for a fucking paycheck.

i am glad that you are the best, because it means you might survive your career.

i act like i don’t care because i really truly do. and i’m not sure sometimes how to handle that.

just tell me what hurts and i will kiss it until it stops.

there is this poor schlub who has to stand out in the hot hot sun all day directing traffic in his orange hard hat and matching vest with a big flag. even though all the big orange barrels are really obviously cutting off the flow of traffic. and he is there all by himself every time i drive by, and he always nods his head at me when i pass. today was insufferably hot and i did not see any cooler or even a water bottle near him on the ground, and when i passed by in the evening he was still there. i am wondering if anyone ever stops to bring the poor guy something cold to drink. and i wonder if i were to bring him something good, like a really big lemon coollatta from dunkin’ donuts if he would think i am hitting on him. because i wouldn’t be and i don’t want him to take it that way.

i just feel bad that he is standing out there baking all day.

it must be famine.

i am so horrified by human nature these past few days that i cannot even express it with rage in a random post about nothing meaningful, like usual.

in general, people suck ass!

is it always feast or famine?

so lets say you’re in a bar. and you’re talking to a girl you kinda know. one that your friends are friends with.

and let’s say that you ask her something like “what do you like to do for fun?”

and she peers at you over her drink and says “pretty much nothing”

yep. it brings them to their knees. i know. it’s the line i use everytime. okay but first of all… seriously. why would i say that? the only safe answer is that i had had one too many cocktails. or could it be that i am boring? or could it be that most of the things i like to do other people find them boring and so i dont really want to have a long shouting drunken bar conversation about it.

and oddly, i think the guy likes me. i have absolutely no clue why.

errrr.