The Beautiful People

Has anyone else heard of this Pasha Face-Kontrol guy? He's a bouncer/club doorman in Moscow who is famous for his rigor in allowing only the incredibly beautiful and/or rich into Moscow's best clubs. (I might add that my research on Mr. Face-Kontrol suggests that Moscow's best clubs make New York's look like Newark's. Russians need a lot of motivation to stumble out of their snug, warm homes into the blistering cold.) I really want to go to Russia.

I'm Okay, You're Okay

When I was in my old hometown, I had dinner with a guy I used to mentor when he was in high school and I was in college. We were talking about the director of the volunteer program that brought us together, a person on whom I used to have a massive crush (he looked like Seth Green!) and upon whom I would probably still have a massive crush if our paths had crossed any time in the last several years. When I know this director, he was involved with someone (another volunteer, no less), and they ultimately moved in together.

My mentee told me that the director and his girlfriend had recently parted ways. When my mentee asked the director why they split, he told him that he could stay with his girlfriend forever, and that would be okay, but he wanted something more than just okay.

My first thought upon hearing that was, "Oh, so he's single?" But my second thought was, "Good for him." Surprisingly few people are willing to abandon a relationship of longstanding that is not wholly unpleasant in a quest for a more fulfilling love. Some people (like the author of that article I reference awhile back about settling) will even say that the idea of incandescent love is illusory and that it's a fool's errand to chase it. I really admire this guy for taking that leap and deciding that a lifetime of something that's just okay is not for him.

Bring Your Sister, Bring Your Sister If You Can't Handle It

My stepsister (who is also my cousin -- long story) told our grandmother this weekend that she thinks she and her dad are headed toward the same kind of non-relationship that my father and I have. She's only 16, so it makes me sad that she feels so hopeless about her relationship with her father (though he's been married a couple of times since he and my stepmother split up, and I doubt she and my stepbrother-cousin have cracked the top five on his priority list in a decade or more). I'm strangely flattered, yet also horrified, that she regards me as some kind of model (for good or bad) of how children should interact with their parents. I don't know if she sees me as a cautionary tale or as a folk hero to girls with daddy issues, but she obviously thinks that I might understand how she feels (certainly more than our vengeful old cobra of a grandmother).

My stepsister-cousin and I are over a decade apart in age. I remember being jealous of her before she was born because all the other cousins were boys, and I liked being the only girl. Once she was born, I thought she was a cute little doll, so I kind of came around on the issue of her existence. Even after her mother and my father legalized their unholy union, I liked her. She was still little and cute at the time. As we got older, two things happened: my father and I parted ways and she became a lying little bitch.

It may seem strange that my relationship with my father would impact my relationship with my stepsister-cousin, since he is not a necessary link between us (the biological link is through my mother), but it did. I felt like my father favored his stepchildren over his biological children and that my stepsibling-cousins benefited while my brother and I were short-changed. (Basically, my vicious succubus of a stepmother refused to get a job and commenced bleeding my father's bank account dry and, to stem the tide, he started getting even cheaper than ever before with his actual children.) I resented my stepsibling-cousins for living the high life on my father's dime while my brother and I did without. It isn't fair that I blamed the stepsibling-cousins for the behavior of their mother and my father.

However, the other issue is that the stepsister-cousin (and the stepbrother-cousin, for that matter) have been growing up to be odious little shits. I think they've gotten the worst traits of both of their parents, and they have certainly inherited the lying and the manipulation and the sneakiness from their mother. They told a lie about my mother to their father, which he believed, that contributed toward an overall degradation of their relationship. It's not even clear why they told the lie other than because they just like to tell lies and stir up trouble. That's a much better reason to hate her.

I'm wondering a little bit if I might hear from stepsister-cousin one of these days. She's obviously looking for someone to talk to about her relationship with her dad. My guess is that she's tried to address her concerns with him (in some kind of weird, 16-year-old way), and he rebuffed her. Her villainous mother clearly has not intention of intervening on her behalf, nor does her milquetoast of a brother. I'm a little surprised that she turned to my notoriously self-centered grandmother for support since my grandmother is the ninja assassin of making other people's problems all about her, and it's this evident desperation that makes me wonder if she might reach out to me next.

I Took a Taxi from L.A. to Venus in 1985

I need to find myself something to do to keep myself occupied and off of the demonic Kayak website. The website seduces me into making travel plans! It is a foul temptress! In addition to my aforementioned Montreal plans, I am also going to Los Angeles this summer to visit a friend. I have been to San Francisco and San Diego before, but never to L.A. It will be nice to visit the city I have heard so much about (on Perez Hilton, mostly). I also made plans to go to Egypt in February of next year (yes, I know that is ten months away), and I'm toying with the possibility of going to Dubai while I'm there. Rooms at the Burj al-Arab in Dubai run about $2400 per night, so I should probably get two.

I Drew a Map of Canada With Your Face Sketched on It Twice

Friend #3 is back on my shit list. After last week's successful getaway, I decided that I wanted to take another trip. It seemed like a natural choice to pop over to the city where he lives because it's close enough for a quick but substantive trip. I emailed him to assess his interest in my visit and offered to stay in a hotel to avoid inconveniencing him. (Yes, part of me hoped he would protest that I should stay at his place so I could save some loot, but, frankly, I have the money to stay in a hotel and, as someone who has an apartment that's really too small for guests, I sympathize with people who start to hyperventilate at the thought of shoehorning a friend in for the weekend.) He said that he was going to be out of town the weekend I suggested, and he did not suggest an alternate weekend. I was a little miffed that he didn't propose a different plan, but I didn't want to jump to the conclusion that he was blowing me off. But I was dragged to that conclusion anyway when I emailed him to ask whether there was an another weekend that would be more convenient and he didn't write back. Well. Be that way.

So, forget him. I'm going to Montreal instead. I've never been to Canada, despite the fact that it is a neighboring country (I've never been to Mexico either), and I'm really looking forward to getting that stamp in my passport. I'm hurt by his behavior, but he hasn't been acting like a good friend lately, and there have been signs in his behavior with other people that he has a cold and dismissive streak. I guess I can't take it personally if that's just his way, but I do, a little.

In any event, I'm very enthused about the possibility of visiting Canada for the first time, and that is papering over a lot of hurt feelings about Friend #3.

New York City Ain't No Kind of Place for a Country Girl with a Friendly Face

I went back to my former city of residence this weekend for a short visit. A friend of mine from school is moving across the country, and I wanted to make sure I saw him before he left, and I hadn't been back since I moved, so it seemed like a good time to go back. I had a wonderful time, the weather was gorgeous, and I got to do a lot of things I missed doing and see a lot of old friends I missed. I even went by my old office to say hello to my former coworkers.

It was the perfect trip in the sense that I had a great time, but it also reinforced my decision to move. My former home, while it offers much in the way of culture, is also dirty, loud, crowded and stressful. I felt wound up the minute I landed at the airport. My new home suits me much better, and I'm glad I live here now.

Passedover

Things have soured with Cindy Kim to the point where I feel like I'm his Cindy Kim rather than the other way around. How did this happen?

Upon the (in retrospect, highly dubious) advice of my mother, I decided to give him a shirt. I hate the way he dresses, and my mom seduced me into thinking that if I could see him in some reasonable-looking apparel, I could more ably assess my interest in him. I also thought that giving him a gift would send the message that I might have an interest in taking the relationship to the next level -- a more naked level, perhaps.

So, I sent him the shirt and waited to see what would happen. What happened was that he sent me an email thanking me for the shirt. At first blush, this doesn't seem like it should sting, but it did. First, I thought that a person who was flattered and excited and who took the gift in the flirtatious spirit in which it was intended would have made a phone call instead of sending an email. I also hoped that he might suggest we get together or something, perhaps for some smooching or at least some more lingering hugs. Instead, he sent a very friendly but ultimately disappointing email to say thank you and kind of blow me off.

He's having a Passover party next weekend to which I had agreed to go before I sent the awkwardness-inducing shirt. He said in his chilly thank-you email that he looks forward to seeing me next weekend at the party, and all I want to do is opt out. I've already set up the exit strategy by telling him that I hope I can still make it but that things have been getting crazy at work.

My mom, whose advice is already in question, tells me that I absolutely, positively must go to the party because Cindy Kim is the only straight guy I know and is therefore the only lead I have on meeting other straight men. I think it's disingenuous to hang out with someone because of who you hope you might meet as a result. However, I must concede that Blanche Devereaux is on my mom's side. Blanche once bemoaned a lousy date experience and when asked whether her suitor was someone special, she said, "That's not the point. He might take me somewhere where I might meet someone who is."

So, I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now, the leading plan is to go for an hour, pretend to get a message on my Blackberry and leave.

It's All Greek to Me

How did I not know about this show Greek before? It is super awesome. I have an unhealthy crush on Cappie, and I am willing to overlook the fact that he wears rings and is slightly stockier than the guys I usually like. Rebecca Logan is such a heinous c-u-next-tuesday that I cannot tear my eyes away from her.

Faith, Hope and Charity

Recently, a friend of mine and his wife experienced the tragedy of a stillbirth. This guy is the first of my friends to try to start a family, and my heart breaks for them because I know they will be great parents and because it's just a sad, senseless thing. I spoke to my friend (but not to his wife) about it and expressed my sorrow over what happened. Today, I made a small donation to a stillbirths-related charity in honor of the two of them and the baby. At this point, I would like to send them a card to let them know that I'm keeping them in my thoughts and that I made this donation on their behalf, but I'm afraid it might be slightly tacky. I would have preferred that the charity itself send them a card or something, but the only option they offered was an email, which seemed tasteless also.

I think I am going to go ahead and send them a card. In my experience, nobody finds it easy to talk about grief and loss either if you're the one experiencing it or if you're offering comfort to someone who's having a time. But it's usually better to put it out there that you're thinking of the grieving person rather than to pretend the bad thing isn't happening, and I'm sure they will be glad to know that I'm there for them.

Through The Wire

I have now finished watching the first four seasons of The Wire, and it is going to be a long wait until August when Season 5 comes out on DVD.

It's funny that I started watching The Wire only now, after I canceled my subscription to HBO, but the person who needled me into watching it is really handsome, so what can I say. Regardless of the timing, The Wire's handsome champion did not deceive me about the show's quality. I watch way too much television, and I don't think I have ever seen a show with better writing or acting.

My only complaint about the show is that it keeps things a little too real. It is famed for its portrayal of both the cops and the robbers as nuanced, fully-formed human beings, and I believe one of the reasons many viewers enjoy the show is the pleasure of unearthing the ugly side of those sworn to uphold the law or the tender side of those who make their livings breaking it. I was touched by Wee-Bey's enthusiasm for his fish or Stringer Bell's polite attention to his studies at community college, to name but two examples, and I am convinced that anyone who does not admit to having Omar as a favorite character is lying. Even Obama says he likes Omar the best.

On a larger scale, the show becomes more and more depressing with each passing season. By the time Season 3 rolled around, I was almost relieved when Stringer Bell was killed because it was more heart-wrenching to spend the season watching him be humiliated in his attempts to become a legitimate businessman and watching the distance grow between Avon and him. (My favorite scene from the series to date is when Stringer and Avon, each having betrayed the other, stand out on their balcony, overlooking the city and reminisce about funny things they did as children.)

Season 4 was the most soul-killing of all. Normally, I don't like children, but I applaud the show for casting child actors who were believable, not too precious or precocious, and, on the whole, likable. Their stories, however, were so sad as to make me wonder why I bother to live (not that I dispute the verisimilitude of the stories). I could hardly even look at Dukie when he was on-screen, and it was a sad truth that he was better off slinging drugs on the corner than living with his contemptible relatives. Also sad but true was the fact that the only person who could and would help poor, sweet little Michael with his being-molested-by-his-stepfather problem was the sociopathic (and fellow molestation victim) Chris Partlow, who later took Michael under his murderous wing. Don't even get me started on poor, bright-eyed Randy's wasted life. Irritatingly, the one kid I hoped would convince Prez to return to his days of pistol-whipping children half-blind (Namond) was the one who was adopted by a kindly family, though it must be said that Namond's mother's villainy was terrifying to behold.

Sigh. I may need until August to build up enough of a will to live to power through the final season (especially since I know what happens to my beloved Omar).

The Sound of Settling

At brunch this morning with two of my friends, we were talking about that article to which I linked earlier this week. One of my friends mentioned that she had stopped by Match.com to take a peek at some profiles, and she was perplexed by the myriad ways in which you can narrow the range of profiles to review. Everyone has an idea in mind of what her perfect mate would be like, but most of the people we actually go out with are perfectly wonderful but don't fit precisely inside the box. We decided that if you find someone with the two important qualities, you're not settling, no matter what the person looks like, or how much money he makes, or what he does for a living, and that anyone who would think you were settling is probably the type of impossible-to-please person who wouldn't be happy anyway.

Round and Round and Round You Go, When You Find Love You'll Always Know

I talked to my mom tonight about the various relationship issues I've been over-analyzing this week. In the middle of her life and after dating a variety of different kinds of men, she has finally found a man she considers to be her life partner. I discussed with her the merits of settling versus holding out and what exactly one should be looking for in a mate.

My mom told me it's impossible to find someone who doesn't do anything annoying, and the important thing is to find someone who gets you and to find someone who makes your feelings a priority. As long as you have those two things, it seems to me like you're not really settling.

Those things are not a cinch to find, of course. Of all the guys I have ever dated, or even all the guys I've ever been interested in seriously, I can only think of one who really got me, and he had plenty of other issues that prevented our relationship from ever really getting off the runway. But if you can find someone who gets you, regardless of what that person looks like or how much money he makes, that person might be a keeper.

Jumping to Conclusions

I've been giving some more thought to the various questions I've been posing here on this blog, and I've drawn some conclusions.

Conclusion #1: These questions do have answers, but there are as many answers as there are people asking. For example, the article I linked to advised readers to settle for "Mr. Good Enough." I gave that article some serious thought, and it occurred to me that the author had chosen to raise a baby on her own. That's a valid choice, but it's a tough row to hoe. I have trouble sometimes taking care of Teh Doggeh by myself, and I can leave him alone during the day, unlike a baby. If I had a kid who needed constant attention, I would probably be happy enough to hand the kid off to any other person, male or female, who seemed even somewhat responsible. In addition, this author is at least twelve years older than I am, and she might be romanticizing some relationships in her past or how well those relationships would have made the transition to marriage. I'm not in the author's position, so even though her solution may be right for her, it is not right for me. I have to find my own answers.

Conclusion #2: Men who like you, like you; men who don't like you, don't like you. You can read The Rules or its ilk, but this is what it boils down to. Improving your appearance through wardrobe improvements or physical regimes is helpful, but I think these factors play more into increasing self-confidence, which, in turn, makes others more attracted to you.

That's all I have for now.

Ask and You Shall Receive

This article exactly responds to all the questions I've been asking here. While its response is kind of scary, I'm not sure it's wrong. Discuss.

Deal or No Deal

How do you know if something is a deal breaker, or if you're self-sabotaging?

To illustrate my question, I use again the example of Cindy Kim. Cindy Kim, for all of his other fine qualities, is sartorially challenged. His shirts are too big and sometimes holey, and he hasn't gotten the message that light wash, tapered leg jeans and white sneakers needed to be retired no later than the series finale of Seinfeld. I would not describe myself as a fashionista, but I am a devotee of What Not To Wear, and I put thought into my appearance.

A lot of women consider it their mandate to rehabilitate a man's fashion sense when the relationship starts (and indeed, a lot of men consider wardrobe advice to be one of the many perks of having a girlfriend). I believe these women are doing the Lord's work, but I'm not sure I could join their ranks. It's one thing to think about changing the way a man dresses, but I think about how I would feel if I started dating a man and he tried to change something about me. I would bristle, and I would wonder why he wanted to date me if he didn't like me the way I was. But I also don't want to be seen in public with an otherwise good-looking guy who dresses like a slob.

Therein lies my dilemma. Is it really a deal breaker if Cindy Kim can't dress himself (and I am unwilling to dress him)? Or am I using my low opinion of his wardrobe as a way to keep distance between us? Being in a relationship is hard work. Being real and vulnerable with someone is hard work. I've wondered for a long time why I didn't have someone, and I think the real truth of it is that I didn't want to do that work. There were probably times (not that I can think of any right now, but there probably were some) when I could have gotten together with someone, but I kept that person at a distance because I didn't want to do the work of being in a relationship.

When you spend a lot of time with someone, there are going to be moments of disunity. The other person is going to get on your nerves or be inconsiderate of your feelings or take you for granted or something. That kind of thing, while regrettable, is to be expected. But if you know from the beginning that there is something about someone that you don't like, how much weight should you give it in deciding whether or not the person is a worthy relationship partner?

Feel Like Making Love

As part of my continuing over-analysis of matters of the heart, I'm pondering the question of whether it is wise to talk yourself into loving someone.

I don't think you can talk yourself out of loving someone, but I think you can talk yourself into it. Or at least I can. For example, I had a male friend in law school who had feelings for me. He was an amazing person -- handsome, kind, smart -- but I didn't have romantic feelings for him. He let me know how he felt about me, and I rebuffed his advances, so he responded by not talking to me for three months. When we finally resumed communication, I told him that I did feel the same way about him. At the time, I really felt that way, and when he broke things off after a very short period of dating, I was so devastated that I cried every day for a month. But when I look back on it now, I see that I cried because I missed my friend. This guy was very important to me -- one of the most important friends I've ever had in my life, in terms of being someone who incites change and growth. When he introduced romance into the situation, some kind of friendship survival instinct kicked in for me that told me that the relationship could either evolve into a boyfriend-girlfriend situation or die. I didn't want it to die, so I talked myself into having feelings for him that, deep down, were sort of manufactured. He was entirely worthy of love, but I didn't love him that way. I don't think he really loved me that way either, in the end, but what if he had?

In some cases, it is obviously a good idea to talk yourself into loving someone if you can. Primarily, this would be good if your marriage is arranged or otherwise strongly encouraged by your family or if your options are limited because of considerations of culture, religion, geography, or whatever. But if you have the whole world open to you, should you try to do it?

This guy in law school was not the first guy that I wished I could be in love with. I haven't always succeeded in manufacturing those feelings, but I have done it a few times. It sounds sort of distasteful and disingenuous, but it might solve the conundrum I was wrestling with in the other post about guys like my friend at work versus guys like Cindy Kim. What's really so wrong about convincing yourself to be in love with someone who has a lot of great qualities? Is it wrong because you'll never really want to have sex with them? I mean, how much do people who've been together for awhile have sex anyway? Isn't it better to make yourself love a good man than to take yourself out of the game because you're in love with a bad man?

Thnks fr th Mmrs 3

Friend #1 moderately redeemed himself today, as part of a rash of redemptions. I got a voice mail from him after I got out of the gym mentioning some vague personal problems. He did actually wish me a happy birthday in the message, which was also nice.

Here I Am, Rock You Like a Hurricane

I have elsewhere written about what it means to have a soul mate, characterizing a soul mate relationship as the emotional equivalent of slash and burn agriculture. Soul mates are a dialectical necessity to personal growth, helping to push you from stage to stage, from incarnation to incarnation, but they are not people with whom you're going to bed down for the long term.

But if that's the case, what should you expect from someone with whom you could spend your life? Exactly how excited should you feel about that person?

There's a guy at work I really, really like. He has a girlfriend, of course, so I doubt anything will come of this attraction, but my point in bringing it up is to note that I am extremely interested in this person. I am very smitten. I think we have a connection, and I find myself wanting to be around him all the time. But when I really consider what it would be like if the two of us were together, all I can see are our differences. I'm not sure our lives are moving in the same direction, and, if we were together, I'm not sure we could guide our lives into a parallel without both of us giving up big parts of ourselves.

On the other hand, there is Cindy Kim. I like Cindy Kim. He's a nice man, and I enjoy chatting with him. In a way, I sort of miss him when he's not around, but not in a gnawing, consuming way. I think he's handsome, but I have neither a strong desire to have sex with him nor a strong aversion to it. It's more like, "Hm. I wonder what Cindy Kim is doing right now." Cindy Kim doesn't make my heart flutter or my stomach flip, but he's a steady, true person. I could see our lives being harmonious, but perhaps not very exciting.

I can offer a perfect illustration of the difference in my feelings for the guy from work and for Cindy Kim. On separate occasions, each of them has handed me his cell phone for me to look at. Both times, my hand touched the hand of the man handing me the phone. When the guy from work handed me his phone and our hands brushed against each other, I blushed. When Cindy Kim's hand touched mine, nothing happened.

What should I expect from a relationship? Should I be looking for someone like this guy from work, or is that the path to devastation and loneliness? Should I be looking for a guy like Cindy Kim, or is that the path to dissatisfaction, a general feeling of having sold myself short, and philandering? Is there a middle ground? Is there someone who provides a stomach flip without leaving wreckage in his wake?

Thnks fr th Mmrs 2

Friend #3 slightly rehabilitated his reputation with me by emailing me yesterday afternoon. He said not to take his silence personally because he's been so busy with his school work. I know this to be at least a partial obfuscation of the truth, but I appreciated the effort anyway.

Thnks fr th Mmrs

To paraphrase Bodie from The Wire, I'm about to lose my composure out this bitch. I have three good friends who are currently all acting like jerks, and I am tired of this shit.

Friend #1 is my oldest friend. He and I have known each other since elementary school, and we've been good friends for about the past 15 years. He forgot my birthday (which has not changed in the past decade and a half of our friendship) and he hasn't responded to my last three emails, one of which was to alert him to my impending visit to the city where he lives and to suggest we get together while I'm there. He's flaky anyway, but this is some bullshit.

Friend #2 is a friend of very long-standing too -- almost 10 years. She too forgot my birthday, which is unusual for her. She moved back to her home state a year or two ago, and, about six months or so ago, she met a guy and I've hardly heard from her since. We used to be so close, but her life is a mystery to me now. I was hurt that I wasn't hearing from her, and her failure to remember my birthday added insult to injury. I'm not saying I never want to talk to her again, but I'm not going to be the first one to reach out. As far as I'm concerned, she owes me an email, not the other way around.

Friend #3 is a more recent acquaintance. I met him about two years ago when we worked together at my last job. We were very close (strictly friendship) during our time as colleagues, and although we naturally grew apart a bit when he moved to a new city to go back to school and I moved to a new city for a fresh start, I haven't received responses from him to my last couple of emails. He also forgot my birthday, despite the fact that both of us are members of a networking website that motherfucking reminds subscribers of their friend's birthdays. I should mention here that not only did I remember his birthday, I sent him a gift. I didn't expect a gift in return, but I certainly expected an email or a text message at the very least. A phone call would have been even nicer. My irritation at his forgetfulness and neglect bubbled up into anger today when I saw that he had used this networking website to send a birthday wish to a mutual acquaintance of ours yesterday. So, not only does he know how to use this website's fucking birthday feature, but he was online horsing around yesterday and couldn't be bothered to respond to the email I sent to him.

DAMN.

Let it be said that I have no idea of anything I might have done to any of these people to make them cold toward me or to make them angry. None of them has reproached me for anything. I can't think of anything myself that I might have done. I've barely talked to any of them enough to cause offense. So, now I'm just mad.

Today Was a Good Day

I had an unusually good day today -- like, weirdly good.

I finally got the replacement oven that my landlord has been promising me for three months, and it's a very nice one. My previous oven had been manufactured at the time of the First Continental Congress, so anything would be an upgrade, but this one seems quite nice. Then, it was a beautiful, sunny day. I enjoyed my walk to work and nobody bothered me at work. I got out of there early, and my reports didn't have any extra work for me. And I got to come home and cook myself a tasty dinner. Now I'm watching my DVDs of The Wire, and I have to say the worst part of the whole day is my feeling of incredulity that an amazing specimen like Stringer Bell would be interested in that silly ho Donette.

Get Up Stand Up 2

I was giving some more thought to what I was saying a few days ago about my friend's pronouncement that I won't get married for another ten years because I'm still enjoying the process of finding out who I am. I think some people form romantic relationships as a way to figure out who they are, and that can be an effective strategy, but it's not one that has ever really worked well for me. Specifically, I've used romantic entanglements to sort out my relationship with my father by choosing men who are similar to my father. But I got tired of that because it never left me feeling better about myself at the end than at the beginning. Since I deliberately stopped dating guys like my dad, I've been single but, overall, happier.

That doesn't mean that I'm closed off to the idea of finding someone to go out with -- just that my view of what that means and what I expect to get out of it is in transition right now.