In the world of internet dating, there are a fair amount of freaks.
My friend M, who is also dating online, recently expressed frustration with the quality of men, her trials to remain open minded, only to be burned by bozos. Frustrated, she rattled off the latest offenses.
She surprised me by voicing a bias that I have: men who use emoticons. I must admit that I don't get why people use them so much. I know that email can be flat and subject to misinterpretation, BUT do we really need them? Aren't they kind of cheesy and effeminate?
Do real men use emoticons?
Maybe I was tormented by a smiley faced mylar balloon as a child and have since repressed it - but I must confess that those bouncy, yellow smiley faces that people add to emails and IMs spook me out. As for the static versions, a little goes a looong, long way. Two is two too many for me. No joke.
Another question: Is IM really all that? In a world of land lines and cell phones and text messaging and emails, do we really need another avenue of communication? I understand it's popular with the teens and certainly has a place in the work world, but ... My latest match wants to forego emailing for instant messaging. I'm trying to flexible, trying to get past his overuse of :) and ;)s in his messages - but when is it too much of not enough?
Friday, January 26, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Masterpiece Theatre
So last night was the premiere of this season's Masterpiece Theatre.
If I had cable or satellite, chances are I wouldn't have watched it. So glad I did.
Jane Eyre. Need I say more.
Amazing how much sexual tension can be captured in an old Victorian tale - without so much as a kiss, a bare arm or leg (though some cleavage). Along with a bed in flames, a dog named Pilot, and a mad woman who seriously injures a man with her teeth.
Rather juicy, really.
If I had cable or satellite, chances are I wouldn't have watched it. So glad I did.
Jane Eyre. Need I say more.
Amazing how much sexual tension can be captured in an old Victorian tale - without so much as a kiss, a bare arm or leg (though some cleavage). Along with a bed in flames, a dog named Pilot, and a mad woman who seriously injures a man with her teeth.
Rather juicy, really.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Most people ...
When I was a kid, I remember my Dad always watched those boring PBS shows. This Old House - at that time with Bob Vila - was one of "those" shows. As an only child, at times I would sit through it, merely out of boredom. I would also try to aggravate him and/or try to not-so-stealthily cheat if he had also agreed to play a game with me while watching his shows.
I must confess that as a home-owning adult I now enjoy watching This Old House (TOH). And, Ask This Old House. Someday I want them to come to my home to help diagnose and fix a problem. Most people dream of being on American Idol or Oprah, but me - I want to be on TOH. No one talks around the water cooler about the funny answers that Kevin and Richard make up on the "what is it" segment of TOH or the latest house they're working on in/around Boston.
Instead at a business lunch this week - with seven other non-androids - the entire conversation centered unwaveringly on the premiere of American Idol. I just sat and (tried to) look interested.
While I must confess that I have a Kelly Clarkson tune or two on my iPod (despite the fact that she was a byproduct of that awful show), I still wonder what the heck is with this show? Are the masses hooked because it is a televised train wreck mixed with the hope of overnight stardom?
Most people would also gush about seeing Keanu Reeves up close & personal when they were in New York City. But me, I bragged about eating dinner near John Stossel. Everyone knows that Hung kid who sang "She Bangs" on American Idol, but most people I told about my Stossel sighting had NO IDEA who he was. The nerve!
I must confess that as a home-owning adult I now enjoy watching This Old House (TOH). And, Ask This Old House. Someday I want them to come to my home to help diagnose and fix a problem. Most people dream of being on American Idol or Oprah, but me - I want to be on TOH. No one talks around the water cooler about the funny answers that Kevin and Richard make up on the "what is it" segment of TOH or the latest house they're working on in/around Boston.
Instead at a business lunch this week - with seven other non-androids - the entire conversation centered unwaveringly on the premiere of American Idol. I just sat and (tried to) look interested.
While I must confess that I have a Kelly Clarkson tune or two on my iPod (despite the fact that she was a byproduct of that awful show), I still wonder what the heck is with this show? Are the masses hooked because it is a televised train wreck mixed with the hope of overnight stardom?
Most people would also gush about seeing Keanu Reeves up close & personal when they were in New York City. But me, I bragged about eating dinner near John Stossel. Everyone knows that Hung kid who sang "She Bangs" on American Idol, but most people I told about my Stossel sighting had NO IDEA who he was. The nerve!
Friday, January 19, 2007
Overactive Mind
Can't sleep. Wish I could - yawning plenty but also flipping & flopping in the bed, feet seem to be getting colder by the minute, and I'm interrupting the dog's sleep. Not that she's complaining, but I hear her collar as she raises her head when I make a move and then rests it down when I settle in for a few seconds. I feel like I'm trying to nest - to get deep enough in the bed that I fall into a Cinderella sleep. If only I could do the nesting that dogs do - round, and round, and round, with a few paw taps - before deeming it a worthy spot to sleep.
I think I'm on mental overdrive because I'm contemplating change. I may be interviewing for a new job very soon, think I have a good chance of getting it, and so there's a lot to consider. . . also am dating again and in that early stage of "what if"-ology.
Staples has that shiny, red "easy" button; I could use any color button - as long as it says "sleep," not sheep.
I think I'm on mental overdrive because I'm contemplating change. I may be interviewing for a new job very soon, think I have a good chance of getting it, and so there's a lot to consider. . . also am dating again and in that early stage of "what if"-ology.
Staples has that shiny, red "easy" button; I could use any color button - as long as it says "sleep," not sheep.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Starting Early
I'm starting early. In 2007, I'd like to see my invented word used by others. I'd like it to skim the hipster crowd and bee-line to top contender status for 2007 Word of the Year.
Granted, I'm only a little blogger and aspiring writiner, not some 100-year old organization of linguists, grammarians, historians and other -ians and -ists.
However, I must say that mine surpasses one of their 2006 nominations - the word "murse" (man purse). My invented word is "munt" (replace the m with a c, you have the male version). My friend M pointed this out after I sent her a link to the American Dialect Society's press release. Their word of the year is "plutoed" - which is worthy of distinction. But "murse," really? Uh huh.
I'm not a fan of the c version of "munt." I must confess that the skit in The Vagina Monologues which consisted mostly of saying that word (over and over) was uncomfortable to me. I think every part of my body was itchy, scratchy and fidgety during that piece. And my face - bright red - if the overhead lights had been on. But munt - I'm instantly at ease with this term.
M and I created the term when we worked together. We used it for certain male pitas (pains in the ass). Take the c, replace it with the m - and there you go. Does not sound offensive, can be said in the office, while expressing exactly what you're thinking. Love it.
It reminds me of when my cousin J and I made up our own secret language. But only for cuss words. Or rather, only for cuss words that we thought were cuss words in grade school. I remember whispering in the corner of my grandmother's bedroom while the adults were far off in the living room, chatting. We thought we were so sneaky - with our code we could cuss and no one would know. Who knows why this was so important, but it was.
We each made a copy of the list - known word and our made up word - and put them in our matching green, handknit purses with lollipops on them. (Right now I'm thinking what a bad idea that was - course this was the 70s and the purses maybe were a little more mainstream?) It was all fun at the time.
Ah, youthful foolishness. I don't think we ever used the terms - but munt, it's already had some mileage.
Granted, I'm only a little blogger and aspiring writiner, not some 100-year old organization of linguists, grammarians, historians and other -ians and -ists.
However, I must say that mine surpasses one of their 2006 nominations - the word "murse" (man purse). My invented word is "munt" (replace the m with a c, you have the male version). My friend M pointed this out after I sent her a link to the American Dialect Society's press release. Their word of the year is "plutoed" - which is worthy of distinction. But "murse," really? Uh huh.
I'm not a fan of the c version of "munt." I must confess that the skit in The Vagina Monologues which consisted mostly of saying that word (over and over) was uncomfortable to me. I think every part of my body was itchy, scratchy and fidgety during that piece. And my face - bright red - if the overhead lights had been on. But munt - I'm instantly at ease with this term.
M and I created the term when we worked together. We used it for certain male pitas (pains in the ass). Take the c, replace it with the m - and there you go. Does not sound offensive, can be said in the office, while expressing exactly what you're thinking. Love it.
It reminds me of when my cousin J and I made up our own secret language. But only for cuss words. Or rather, only for cuss words that we thought were cuss words in grade school. I remember whispering in the corner of my grandmother's bedroom while the adults were far off in the living room, chatting. We thought we were so sneaky - with our code we could cuss and no one would know. Who knows why this was so important, but it was.
We each made a copy of the list - known word and our made up word - and put them in our matching green, handknit purses with lollipops on them. (Right now I'm thinking what a bad idea that was - course this was the 70s and the purses maybe were a little more mainstream?) It was all fun at the time.
Ah, youthful foolishness. I don't think we ever used the terms - but munt, it's already had some mileage.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Brilliance
In writers group we each created a 500 word piece in the imperative. So all commands with the "you" understood. It amazed me how intimate and urgent each piece read. It was one of those odd a-ha moments which has lingered with me. In the exercise they referenced Lorrie Moore who wrote a collection of short stories, most of which are in the imperative, entitled "Self Help."
I read one of these stories online, "How to be a Writer," and then recalled a David Sedaris interview in which he recommended Lorrie Moore's collection, "Birds of America." I'm currently reading this collection. I love it. Not all are equally brilliant, but more than once I've found myself rereading the same story in one sitting - just to glean all that I can from it. Favorites so far are "Which is More Than I Can Say About Some People" and "Dance in America." She packs so much in a story that I'm amazed.
Last fall I saw David Sedaris speak. He complimented another writer and said that he wanted to type, each word, that the other had written - just to see how it felt to have such words and sentences spring from his hands. This resonated with me. Over the past armful of months I have felt this way. It's powerful. It's a passion that you ache to emulate - one way or another - at almost any cost. When a metaphor, simile, phrase, expression, sentence, paragraph or full story sings - to my ears only - a magical, elusive tune. It's brilliant.
Now if only I can discover and fine-tune my own ...
I read one of these stories online, "How to be a Writer," and then recalled a David Sedaris interview in which he recommended Lorrie Moore's collection, "Birds of America." I'm currently reading this collection. I love it. Not all are equally brilliant, but more than once I've found myself rereading the same story in one sitting - just to glean all that I can from it. Favorites so far are "Which is More Than I Can Say About Some People" and "Dance in America." She packs so much in a story that I'm amazed.
Last fall I saw David Sedaris speak. He complimented another writer and said that he wanted to type, each word, that the other had written - just to see how it felt to have such words and sentences spring from his hands. This resonated with me. Over the past armful of months I have felt this way. It's powerful. It's a passion that you ache to emulate - one way or another - at almost any cost. When a metaphor, simile, phrase, expression, sentence, paragraph or full story sings - to my ears only - a magical, elusive tune. It's brilliant.
Now if only I can discover and fine-tune my own ...
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Reinvent 2007
New year, new resolutions.
Hosted my first New Year's party, which was fun - though not as much fun as last year's tiny bubbles imbibe-a-thon in Alabama. Course as a result of the 2005-2006 excesses I found myself ringing in 2006 with a drive to the grocery store to buy pedialyte for a very hungover, sick friend. Not what a 30-something singleton expects to be doing - driving a minivan and hanging out in the baby aisle of the grocery store ... needless to say beer was the beverage du jour for 2006-2007. Not as lively, but no sickies on Jan 1.
This year's crowd was a broad range of ages - from 17 months to nearly 60 years. The ro-tel dip was the biggest hit - the slow cooker wiped clean well before midnight. Unfortunately many, many tortilla chips are left behind with no dip. Quite tragic as I never knew how tasty hot tomatoes & velveta could be. Don't think I'll diss the manchego for it, but perhaps they can coexist peacefully in my fridge.
Also, 5/6 of the UF was present and accounted for on New Years Eve, which was wonderful, though our time together was far too short. I miss having AJ, Jbo and VP in STL. VP was - for the second year in a row - hospitalized and/or recuperating over New Years! Last year was appendicitis, this year was a salmonella-induced bone infection. She's working her way to becoming a case on the "House" series. Once she gets past the recovery, I think she should look into a job on staff for "House."
I'm procrastinating on my resolutions. I have, however, resolved to be more realistic so that they are actually achievable (if that's a word) - this in turn requires a little more thought than the annual "eat healthy, exercise more" adage which only lasts for a few weeks.
I also am single again. I'm not sure about this whole internet dating gig. I did it before, it worked out well, but putting myself out there again is a little daunting and discouraging. It's only been about a week but the first two internet goobs that have contacted me were discouraging. I'm trying to be open minded, not judge a book by its cover, yadda yadda ... but one had a gap between his two front teeth that could fit the dental floss case - not just the dental floss - in between them; and the other - well - cheesy and weird sum him up. So, deep breaths and patience. And an effort to look for the bright side - wherever in the hell that is.
Hosted my first New Year's party, which was fun - though not as much fun as last year's tiny bubbles imbibe-a-thon in Alabama. Course as a result of the 2005-2006 excesses I found myself ringing in 2006 with a drive to the grocery store to buy pedialyte for a very hungover, sick friend. Not what a 30-something singleton expects to be doing - driving a minivan and hanging out in the baby aisle of the grocery store ... needless to say beer was the beverage du jour for 2006-2007. Not as lively, but no sickies on Jan 1.
This year's crowd was a broad range of ages - from 17 months to nearly 60 years. The ro-tel dip was the biggest hit - the slow cooker wiped clean well before midnight. Unfortunately many, many tortilla chips are left behind with no dip. Quite tragic as I never knew how tasty hot tomatoes & velveta could be. Don't think I'll diss the manchego for it, but perhaps they can coexist peacefully in my fridge.
Also, 5/6 of the UF was present and accounted for on New Years Eve, which was wonderful, though our time together was far too short. I miss having AJ, Jbo and VP in STL. VP was - for the second year in a row - hospitalized and/or recuperating over New Years! Last year was appendicitis, this year was a salmonella-induced bone infection. She's working her way to becoming a case on the "House" series. Once she gets past the recovery, I think she should look into a job on staff for "House."
I'm procrastinating on my resolutions. I have, however, resolved to be more realistic so that they are actually achievable (if that's a word) - this in turn requires a little more thought than the annual "eat healthy, exercise more" adage which only lasts for a few weeks.
I also am single again. I'm not sure about this whole internet dating gig. I did it before, it worked out well, but putting myself out there again is a little daunting and discouraging. It's only been about a week but the first two internet goobs that have contacted me were discouraging. I'm trying to be open minded, not judge a book by its cover, yadda yadda ... but one had a gap between his two front teeth that could fit the dental floss case - not just the dental floss - in between them; and the other - well - cheesy and weird sum him up. So, deep breaths and patience. And an effort to look for the bright side - wherever in the hell that is.
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