change of venue

or, change of name, perhaps, at least, maybe, to a compendium of hot air. why?

because i like you!! (who gits the reference?)

but really because i came across today the blog of an actor who was in a movie i loved in 1989 or something when it came out, 'my life's in turnaround' t'was called, and the dude was all, 'ladies, don't get made at me if i'm 44 and want to reproduce in my 50s which means if you're boobs are sagging you're prolly too old for me. but hey, free love!!'

what struck me is not that homeboy's obnoxious but that a woman who at 44 is still looking for love and goes on one-time dates with nary a follow up in sight might feel bad about herself, question her worth, her desirability, her loveliness. a man would never do that, seems to moi, they seem too often to have too much hmmnnn...let's call it hubris, shall we? or is it arete? my 9th grade world history terms elude me at present. but anyhoo, it's just a rather amazing difference. kind of like how i heard once from a friend's sister who was vetting resumes that men, even at the tender outta college age of 21 were all, 'dig it, i can kick ass in this job' and the women were meeker, a la, 'i feel i could make a valuable contribution.'

it's the same dang thing.

as for the guy who urged a condomless interaction and then wanted to be friends...never heard from him, which somehow seems apt, reminds me of the actor, kind of overly self-assured but so happy or is it smug in that assurance. but also, arguably, full of horseshit. say it with me now!

here's a non sequitur of the evening (it's been a very long 36 hours and i'm having a belt at home as i right, er, write): it makes me sad when people are unable to swipe their metro cards properly through the subway turnstile. they get that 'no go' beep and they try again and then again, you want to help them but don't want them to feel bad that they are swiping perhaps too slow, too deliberately, but they are, you can feel it and see it and as the line grows long behind them a very subtle but definitive tension mounts. it very tinily breaks my heart when i witness it happen. (it's a new york centric observation, so pls forgive me my 'fornia, boston, sconny readers and from whereever else ye may hail).

was supposed to be falling in love tonight. or getting it on. but his father came to town for dinner and he had to cancel, which is a-okay because i slept over last night at my great aunt's house, she's 100 years old, did i mention? and i didn't sleep too soundly for various reasons...and had a kind of nightmare wherein i was assaulted by a younger fellow but then started hitting him back and was about to be arrested when i woke up at 4:46. in part two, there was tap dancing by a dyed-green haired lass whose mother was named, apparently, gwen, and gwen was wearing a wee mini even though she was about 60. she had a blond paigeboy and was doing a version of the shake.

who wants to plays freud in this drama?

and, have i ever ever mentioned how much i love black licorice well, i do. if it were a man and agreed to marry me...well, we'd have a happy ending for shizzah.