lessons

What I learned from Men's Health magazine
or as I usually think it should be called: Your Window Into the Idiotic Straight Male Psyche

Women are...interested in men who express alpha status. Accomplish this by using a loud voice, speaking often, taking up lots of space, and interrupting others.

In other words, get drunk and act like the asshole you know you are, asshole. That makes sense since I'm pretty sure men are interested in women who display omega status. Accomplish this by always agreeing, doing his laundry and keeping your dumb-ass mouth shut. What other gems can MH offer?

The message you must convey to women boils down to "I'm here, I'm male, and I won't hurt you."

That's definitely the first thing I'd like to know. (I'll have you know I didn't even add that color, HM used it on it's own.)

Maybe just one more:

Rather than what she says, how she acts is a much more reliable gauge of what she's thinking. Straightening her hair or orienting her body toward you means she's interested.

And if she says "no," she really means "Yes!"

These are just random quotes from the article printed on the accompanying photographs. I don't know if I have the wherewithal to read the entire blathering piece. Plus I might just end up quoting the entire thing on here.

What I learned last night

Semi-pleasurable sexual experiences do not provide enhanced artistic inspiration. Apparently I have to be utterly disappointed and unsatisfied to tap into my well of creativity. That uncomfortable mix of pleasure and mild shame just doesn't cut it. Maybe I'm expecting too much, it was at least a learning experience on my creative process. When it comes down to it, I'm really doing research. Where's my grant money?

What I learned right now

No matter how tired you are or how late you might be you should always check weather.com. Stupid rain. Stupid sandals.

What else I learned right now

If you're going to be at a gym for 4 hours you might as well bring some workout clothes, even if you don't feel like exercising, because you probably won't have anything better to do.

Also, this morning (at 5:30AM) I cried on the subway again from The Road. Again. I restrained myself a bit more this time. Who knows what other psychotic shit might have come spilling out that early?

math at the end of the world

l x w = ?

What's the answer? I'll give you a hint: it has to do with rectangles.

I was playing online pictionary (also called graffiti by those Yah*oo bastards, just to make it hard to find) and my "requesting to remain anonymous for this very reason" coworkers could not guess the answer. (I had actually drawn them a square as well.) I refused to start a new drawing. We sat there for over a minute while I kept saying Length times width! Length times width! I was flabbergasted. In an attempt to find someone to share my befuddlement I told this story to another coworker who also failed to provide the correct answer. How could this be?! They each justified their woefully lacking knowledge of math by pointing out that they majored in theater. Damn arts, ruining the scientific minds of our "youth."

Let's jump to a new topic.

Have you read The Road by Cormac McCarthy? It's really good. Really really good. This is my second time reading it in less than a year and it made me cry on the subway this morning. It was a pretty crowded train at 7:30AM and I was sobbing. His writing completely caught me off guard. I think it's becoming one of my favorite books ever. You should read it.

You know what's better than lukewarm V8? Probably most things.

I did send off most of the emails that I was supposed to though. It's really hard to try to keep track of 8 different people's schedules. I need a better planner. I wish I had an electronic one with an actual type schedule in it. Like the one on my computer at home. That would be great.

Ugh, I still have 3 1/2 more hours of sitting alone in the box office before I can go home and figure out what kind of food to eat, based on what currently grosses me out the least. That'll be fun, won't it?

some problems

It's funny how little things can still upset me so completely. Not so much funny "ha ha" more funny "psycho."

I just received a "thanks but no thanks" email from my pilates instructor concerning my pilates notes. The book of exercise notes she gave my "class" was written a while ago by her husband and she didn't like the way it was done. She noticed that I had been retyping all of the notes in a better format and adding notes from the DVDs she had given us. She mentioned she was interested in buying either my notes or another girl's. So I sent off my notes for her to look at and she just emailed me saying she's going with the other girl's. Now, normally that would only hurt a little bit but here's the thing. I've trained with this other girl and while she's training me she keeps consulting her notes but can't figure out what they're referring to. For instance, we'd be doing an exercise and she'd read "reach arms overhead for stretch" and she would say, "Hmm, I don't know if that means behind you or to the ceiling or what. Let's try some different things." And we did and I didn't feel a stretch so obviously her notes weren't helping. I deliberately made my notes explicitly clear so that if you couldn't exactly remember how an exercise was to be accomplished it would tell you. I don't see the point of using notes that don't make any sense. But her notes were apparently almost verbatim from the DVDs which I'll admit I didn't do because my instructor doesn't cover everything in the DVDs and rambles a lot. Anyway, the rejection just hurt and the thing is it hurt way more than it should have. That's not even much of a rejection but I really went temporarily crazy-hate in my head. Literally, it was like rage was coming out every pore of my skin. I should probably work on that with my therapist. (Who still doesn't exist sooo...I'm done!)

I know the feeling

My my. I don't know if this song is work appropriate, nevertheless it's what's playing right now. Good thing I'm alone up here.
____________________________
Once I had taste
Once I crossed the line
Once it overflowed
I lost my mind

The smell of you is sex
The thought of you is cream
The taste of you it makes me scream

Once I bit the fruit
Once I turned the key
Once is not enough when
You're deep in me
____________________________
Mmm-hmm.

accurate

Isaac was once again accusing me of lacking feelings (brought on by my desire to go to Fashion Soup for lunch, figure that connection out):

HL: Your heart is made of ice.
pause
Me (softly whimpering): It can still break.

an achievement?

When I arrived at work yesterday I had a lovely sense of satisfaction over my many accomplishments already finished that morning. What were those grand accomplishments? Waking up early, riding the subway from the south end of Brooklyn to the north end of Manhattan, showering, then riding back to midtown and only arriving to work 15 minutes late. So my accomplishments basically consisted of basic hygiene, sitting on my ass and arriving to work late. If I can keep up this awesome potential I'll be curing cancer in no time.

Did I tell you I went on a "date" the other day? I know, can you believe it? Maybe I won't be alone forever. To recount the entire "date" would be annoying so I'll just tell you this: it began with a train ride and ended with me washing his shorts. Let that titillate your imagination, you'll probably come up with something better than what really happened. Of course, we all know the real ending is my remaining alone but whatever. It kind of blows that when I finally get up the nerve to ask someone out it has to be someone who's soon to be unavailable (he's from Montreal and going back soon). Am I turning into my mother? He is originally from Normandy and speaks French so maybe I am. (See francophile blog, that's ma mere.)