Here Comes Your Man

While I love seeing Joseph Gordon Levitt pretend he doesn't really know how to sing in this clip, I'd like to focus more on the message of the song by the Pixies (a band I love, though I've never attempted the haircut).

Exterior Shot--Chain Restaurant (because two people who never frequent chains find themselves in a suburb). Two tall, distinguished, passionate artists walk into the joint to get lunch. 

Pan to: Close up of seating hostess. She watches couple approach, she sizes up the two of them, she's immediately attracted to the male. 

Hostess: Welcome to this awesome Chain Restaurant. We are so glad to have you here. Please follow me."

Batting eyelashes, quick look up and down his body, and back to his eyes again.

"Wow, sir, you're really, really tall. That must be so nice for you to be so tall. How tall are you, Sir."

Man: 6' 4"

Hostess: My, my, my. So tall.

Woman: Yes, isn't he? I'm tall too. We really love being tall.

Hostess: not wanting to acknowledge woman exists, but glancing over and saying with disinterest, "Oh? how tall are you?"

Woman: 6 foot. It's such a great height. I'm really fond of it.

Hostess: Well, must be so nice for you to have found a tall, strong man. Hold on to your man, you're pretty lucky to be with him.

Man and Woman debate inwardly whether or not to point out everything wrong with what this woman just said, but decide to not launch a verbal tired on the naive, young seating hostess at a chain restaurant in California who believes that a woman must "hold on to a man" and is worth more if she has one. Instead, they just smile and nod.

Man: Ouch. Did you see what she just did to you?

Woman: Yep. Apparently, I'm the lucky one. I'm the one who needed a man. I'm the one who better not let you go, or it will be my loss. That's a Lifetime movie waiting to be made yet again.

Note to reader. This man is NOT my man. He never has been and never will be. He is, however, a dear friend, and one who thinks similarly to myself.

Man: Yes, see, how come I couldn't have been the lucky one? How come I couldn't have been told not to let you go? Or how nice it must be to be with someone who is as tall as you are?

Note to reader: We love this man. He is one of our dearest friends. His ability to even talk about this with me is one of the reasons why.

End Scene (for now, but this happens on more than one occasion. It also happens that every woman that has ever seated this man and myself at a restaurant has practically slipped him her phone number. It doesn't matter if we're holding hands or making out between our sushi, they still do it. Dear Women--wtf?)


It's an interesting thing to notice, in my life, that I am never quite seen as fully complete, adult, fulfilled, and utterly blissed out on joy if I do not have a man in my life. This is a reality that many of the women around me adopt. This is a reality that I refuse to adopt. This is a reality that I want to eradicate from the deepest marrow of my bones. This happens and I wish it didn't. It really, really gets old. /Rant.

Pick Me Up.

Even though the wrinkles on his forehead make him look like he is 40, I still HEART Joseph Gordon-Levitt in more ways that I can count. And, I think, this pick up line would actually work on me.

A Room of One's Own

"Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of a man at twice its natural size."
- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
"Without those forerunners, Jane Austen and the Brontes and George Eliot could no more have written than Shakespeare could have written without Marlowe, or Marlowe without Chaucer, or Chaucer without those forgotten poets who paved the ways and tamed the natural savagery of the tongue. For masterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice."
- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
"I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee's life of the poet. She died young--alas, she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop, opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the crossroads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here tonight, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh."
- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
When I was young and Mormon--all my girlfriends would giggle and plan their weddings and the number of babies they would have. I would smile and nod and join in, trying to believe it was what I wanted too.

Then, at night, I'd crawl into my bed and read Virginia Woolf under the covers..and promise that I'd never get married for getting married's sake, that I would never give my entire life to the raising of babies and losing myself (though the two do not have to go hand in hand), and that somehow, somehow, I would find a man who would let my dreams be just as important as his....

And that always, always--I'd have a room of my own.

Something Inexplicable...

My friend went on a first date last night. They had a drink at her apartment. He came over. He did not bring wine. He drank lots of her wine. He used the bathroom. He did not turn on the lights. It was dark. He left the bathroom door open. He did not flush the toilet. He did this TWICE in under an hour. Then he went home.

Seriously?

Smells Like Man Spirit....

Today I was taking a walk. That is not unusual. I was walking in the afternoon. That was not that unusual. Lots of old men passed by me on bikes. That was not unusual. The air was crisp, cool, and delightful. That was not unusual. I had good music on my iPod. Even, that...was not unusual.

Then, a man--a real live, young, good looking man walked towards me and as he passed me in slow motion, and the sun shone behind his head like a halo, and he just SMELLED like a warm, sweaty, sensuous GOD of a man with overwhelmingly good genes and pheromones that knocked me off my feet...and I wanted to throw him down to the ground and have my way with him...and I realized I've been meditating in these mountains like a nun for four months and my hormones are crazy and I just REALLY want.....

Well, anyway, that was unusual.