Thursday, August 7, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
best text i've received all week
"i met this cute DC obama staffer from georgetown last night. top 5 worst sex. jackrabbit. didnt respond to suggestions. wanted to cuddle as well. bleh. and wants to take me to dinner on wednesday. oh and he tried dirty talk and i have never been more embarrassed for anyone...ever."
hahahahaha.
hahahahaha.
an ideal relationship
i read this while i was in bermuda, and it stuck with me. totally sexy.
"she was tall and smooth and strange, like an alien with impossibly long limbs. you couldn't keep from staring at her, picturing her in certain situations, all tangled in the sheets. she was the wife of someone i used to know. they got married when she was eighteen or nineteen, i think. he used to stand around guarding her all the time, as if he was shielding her body from a blast. she'd have this look on her face that was sort of bored and panicked at the same time. it was like she was a hostage and they were trying to find a place in the world to hide her. i pitied them in a lot of ways.
it was a few years later when i saw her again. at a dinner party. their marriage had fallen apart, i never knew the details but she was alone. i think by then she was trying to make up for some of what she'd missed, marrying so young. but it was hard for her. she stood out, she was too immaculate in way, she had some kind of gawky elegance that made it difficult for her to get properly defiled.
i told her i couldn't explain why but that i only wanted one thing from her, and that was to make her come with my mouth while she as watching television. and ideally while she smoked a cigarette, too, but she wasn't a smoker. it was just something to talk about the first few times. i'd talk and she'd listen, and laugh at me. she had this deep laugh, you didn't know where it came from because she had a normal, mild voice, but then this stomach-based laugh would chuckle out of her, like she was laughing at you with her whole soul. the laugh was revealing, but what it revealed was her distance. it let you know how far away she'd gone to hide from her body and from the world and the responses of all the men she'd met.
one night i guess she got tired of laughing and saying no and she took me to her apartment, this huge place she'd lived in during her marriage. once she'd decided, we didn't discuss anything. it was a somber ritual, as if we felt answerable to some third party we didn't want to disappoint. she had a television but no cable, so we put in a video. her former husband was a film scholar, he'd left all these videos behind. it was in another language, something scandinavian. the glow was the only light in the room. i guess she was reading the subtitles. i couldn't.
it took a really long time. i think she must have watched half that movie. and when it was over she was still and quiet. i could tell she was just waiting for me to leave. i assumed that was the end of it, but she called me about a week later and told me i could visit again if i wanted. this time it didn’t take so long and when she came she started laughing at me, that same fathomless lunatic belly laugh. i was just kneeling there in my clothes between her long legs and i guess i looked sort of stupid. she sashed up her robe and just started laughing.
it became a regular thing for a while. i’d visit her apartment and she’d put in a video and sprawl on her chair in front of the television, it was a ratty yellow armchair, and throw her robe open. and she’d laugh afterward. she’d just look at me and laugh madly, and i’d laugh too. it was like i was escorting her on some long passage from where her reserve and her beauty had exiled her, only the voyage could never be finished for her. she’d come and laugh and then it would be time for me to go.”
--jonathan lethem, ‘you don’t love me yet’
"she was tall and smooth and strange, like an alien with impossibly long limbs. you couldn't keep from staring at her, picturing her in certain situations, all tangled in the sheets. she was the wife of someone i used to know. they got married when she was eighteen or nineteen, i think. he used to stand around guarding her all the time, as if he was shielding her body from a blast. she'd have this look on her face that was sort of bored and panicked at the same time. it was like she was a hostage and they were trying to find a place in the world to hide her. i pitied them in a lot of ways.it was a few years later when i saw her again. at a dinner party. their marriage had fallen apart, i never knew the details but she was alone. i think by then she was trying to make up for some of what she'd missed, marrying so young. but it was hard for her. she stood out, she was too immaculate in way, she had some kind of gawky elegance that made it difficult for her to get properly defiled.
i told her i couldn't explain why but that i only wanted one thing from her, and that was to make her come with my mouth while she as watching television. and ideally while she smoked a cigarette, too, but she wasn't a smoker. it was just something to talk about the first few times. i'd talk and she'd listen, and laugh at me. she had this deep laugh, you didn't know where it came from because she had a normal, mild voice, but then this stomach-based laugh would chuckle out of her, like she was laughing at you with her whole soul. the laugh was revealing, but what it revealed was her distance. it let you know how far away she'd gone to hide from her body and from the world and the responses of all the men she'd met.
one night i guess she got tired of laughing and saying no and she took me to her apartment, this huge place she'd lived in during her marriage. once she'd decided, we didn't discuss anything. it was a somber ritual, as if we felt answerable to some third party we didn't want to disappoint. she had a television but no cable, so we put in a video. her former husband was a film scholar, he'd left all these videos behind. it was in another language, something scandinavian. the glow was the only light in the room. i guess she was reading the subtitles. i couldn't.
it took a really long time. i think she must have watched half that movie. and when it was over she was still and quiet. i could tell she was just waiting for me to leave. i assumed that was the end of it, but she called me about a week later and told me i could visit again if i wanted. this time it didn’t take so long and when she came she started laughing at me, that same fathomless lunatic belly laugh. i was just kneeling there in my clothes between her long legs and i guess i looked sort of stupid. she sashed up her robe and just started laughing.
it became a regular thing for a while. i’d visit her apartment and she’d put in a video and sprawl on her chair in front of the television, it was a ratty yellow armchair, and throw her robe open. and she’d laugh afterward. she’d just look at me and laugh madly, and i’d laugh too. it was like i was escorting her on some long passage from where her reserve and her beauty had exiled her, only the voyage could never be finished for her. she’d come and laugh and then it would be time for me to go.”
--jonathan lethem, ‘you don’t love me yet’
Friday, July 25, 2008
bring on the pina coladas
off to bermuda for some serious mother-daughter bonding. i heard you can rent mopeds and drive on the left side of the street...i'm pumped! i'm totally going to make my mom race me.
speaking of bonding, becky and i just dined at small plates in harvard square. delicious wild mushrooms and a adorable little backyard patio. too bad i was with my mother and not on a romantic date. oh well, such is life.
i will return wednesday, pink and freckly.
speaking of bonding, becky and i just dined at small plates in harvard square. delicious wild mushrooms and a adorable little backyard patio. too bad i was with my mother and not on a romantic date. oh well, such is life.
i will return wednesday, pink and freckly.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
wet with anticipation
there have only been a few moments in my life when i have seriously questioned my sexuality. probably the most significant of these moments occurred during the metric concert in brooklyn in 2005. those of you who know me well are more than aware of my love affair with this band. they're seriously awesome: sultry, politically charged pop music infused with a pinch of anarchism. obviously, this is my kinda band. after my first live metric experience, i floated out of the show all giddy and starry-eyed and i distinctly remember my boyfriend at the time shaking his head and saying, 'i've lost you, haven't i?'
yes. yes he had.
but really, can you blame me? not only is lead singer emily haines stunningly gorgeous, her energy is utterly orgasmic. she writhes around stage, passionately gripping the mic and shaking her blonde hair while droplets of sensual glory fling from her beautiful, glistening forehead. i've never seen anything like it.
thanks to my good friend kristin (she bought tickets the minute they went on sale), i'll get to experience this all over again on august 7th when metric plays with mates of state at the highline ballroom in new york. !!!!! i cannot f-ing wait. i'm going to battle my way to the front row so i can lovingly gaze into emily's eyes as she sweetly sings, 'i want to be wrong, but no one here wants to fight me like you do'.
oh emily, i'll fight you. i'll fight you hard.
yes. yes he had.
but really, can you blame me? not only is lead singer emily haines stunningly gorgeous, her energy is utterly orgasmic. she writhes around stage, passionately gripping the mic and shaking her blonde hair while droplets of sensual glory fling from her beautiful, glistening forehead. i've never seen anything like it.
thanks to my good friend kristin (she bought tickets the minute they went on sale), i'll get to experience this all over again on august 7th when metric plays with mates of state at the highline ballroom in new york. !!!!! i cannot f-ing wait. i'm going to battle my way to the front row so i can lovingly gaze into emily's eyes as she sweetly sings, 'i want to be wrong, but no one here wants to fight me like you do'.
oh emily, i'll fight you. i'll fight you hard.
make out with strangers
taken from the advice column 'savage love' in this week's weekly dig:
tired of her wrote: it's been about eight months since i was dumped and every day i still think about the girl who broke my heart. how do you get over a break up?
dan savage: sometimes a cliche is all i've got: time heals all wounds - time, and of course, fucking other people. did you know that every ounce of another woman's saliva that you swallow shaves a week off the healing process? it's a true and totally scientific fact.
thank you, mr. savage, for so eloquently articulating exactly what i've been trying to convey to a handful of friends who have recently taken on the grating status of 'ex-lover'.
tired of her wrote: it's been about eight months since i was dumped and every day i still think about the girl who broke my heart. how do you get over a break up?
dan savage: sometimes a cliche is all i've got: time heals all wounds - time, and of course, fucking other people. did you know that every ounce of another woman's saliva that you swallow shaves a week off the healing process? it's a true and totally scientific fact.
thank you, mr. savage, for so eloquently articulating exactly what i've been trying to convey to a handful of friends who have recently taken on the grating status of 'ex-lover'.
an attempt to embrace my amorphous position in the universe.
rawr.
welcome to my blog.
thanks for reading.
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