What are you doing to celebrate?
From the monthly archives:
October 2006
The weekend is over, and my Aussie has left the country. In case you were wondering: I didn’t sleep with him. (Nosey little bastards, aren’t you my sweeties?) It wasn’t for lack of interest, mind you. I think it’s fair to say that things just didn’t turn out quite the way that I thought that they would–and, if I had to guess, he’d probably say the same thing. And, that’s all I’m going to say about that publicly. [The End]
So, I’m online the other day and I randomly stumble across an article on so-called female sexual manupulation over at Askmen.com. there’s so much to say about this, but so little time. (I don’t like long posts.) Ahhhhhh … sex and money. Is it really true that are women money-grubbers who expect men to fork over loads of cash on interesting [read: expensive] dates before they’ll have sex with them? My opinion … Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: people see the world not as it is but as they are. And, I think this applies to the dating world as well. So, rich men who throw money at women to impress them shouldn’t be surprised if they end up with money-grubbing women who are impressed by money. (And, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Askmen.com writer who warns that women try to “seduce men into handing over their wallets” is the same man who advises men: if you get rich, “you’ll have women kissing your feet“.) So, yeah, needless to say, I disagree with the author. And, having said that, to be fair, I’ll add this …. Here in New York City, all things being equal, I bet a guy with a corporate job has a hell of a lot more success getting laid than a guy who is unemployed does. To the people out there on the internets, I ask: What are all of YOUR thoughts on this?
Something smells… wait, wait, wait .. Before I go there I should probably alert that this post is about “desperate friends” not people who date. And, by the way … since I said the word “date”, I’ll add that the update on the Aussie guy is that we’ve been cramming in a lot of time together. He leaves next week, but I’ve really enjoyed his (platonic) company. Don’t get me wrong … There’s chemistry to be sure — I’m just not really up for being some guy’s “vacation fling” right now … now matter how pleasurable it might be. Okay, so, back to, well, um, that smell. The scent of desperation.
I’ve recently learned that at least 1 out of 4 Americans say that they have no one that they can talk to about serious stuff — no close family member and no “good friends”. Read Social Isolation in America. (If you’re feeling lazy, read the short Boston Globe summary article; if you’re feeling like an info geek, read the academic journal article.) Hmmm … I’m torn. On one hand, I feel kind of sad about the fact that our society is structured in a way that makes it hard for people to make real friends. For example, New York is a city filled with approximately 8 million people. Yet, oddly enough, it’s not unusual to run into people who will tell you quite openly and honestly: “I don’t really have any friends in the city.” (Such was the case recently, that’s why I’m blogging about it today.) Anyway, on the other hand—given the type of “friendless” people that I’ve met since I moved to New York almost two years ago—I kinda get the feeling that people without friends don’t have friends because of they aren’t likeable people. Too self-absorbed. Too arrogant. Too weird. You name it. Hmmm … What do YOU think? Please share your thoughts on this question: Why are 25% of Americans completely friendless?
Ohhhhh my dear, sweet, honey-dipped Madonna. I remember her. Circa 1990-something. Madonna: sporting a white tutu-looking thing, bright red lipstick, blonde hair, and thick black eyebrows with dark roots to match. Me: wearing my “Homey Don’t Play That” t-shirt and watching Desperately Seeking Susan on my television set. The years. They’ve flown, haven’t they??
This whole international adoption thing has grown into quite a mess, hasn’t it? I wouldn’t blog about it because I think it has already gotten quite a bit of attention these days. BUT … I couldn’t think of anything else to write about today. So, please use the comment section to share your views: Should Madonna be allowed to adopt David Banda from Malawi?
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PS: Tomorrow I’ll give you an update on my Aussie Boy.
I’m one of the most impatient people that I know. I don’t like to wait. Ever. For anything. On more than one occasion, I’ve jumped into a cab to get somewhere quickly—only to jump out of the cab because it was moving too slow in traffic … only to jump into another cab because I felt like it would move faster than I could walk. Yes, yes, I know: I’m crazy. But, that’s not my point.
Do you ever have the feeling that your life is on hold and that you’re just waiting for something to materialize before you can move forward? Waiting for things to work out for a new job. Waiting to find out how things are going to work themselves out in a particular relationship. Waiting. Or … maybe it’s not that you’re “waiting” but it’s more like you’re so “tied up” with day-to-day life that you feel like you won’t really move forward? I’ve been feeling this way a lot lately. So have many people around me. My friend Mags is still waiting for a new job. And, Sid is still waiting for a new apartment. (Actually, I popped over to Sid’s blog a bit ago, and I noticed that she, too, just blogged about waiting. That post inspired this one.)
Hmmm … Have you ever read the book “Oh, the Places You’ll Go“? (Trust me. I’m going somewhere with this.) It sounds silly to say it, but the first time that I read that book, it made me cry. Rewind. I’m in LA. I’m 21 years old. And, I’m at Barnes & Noble with a guy friend named Scott. I’m in love with Scott at the time. But, because he has a girlfriend, nothing ever happens between us and I never utter a word about how I feel. Anyway … so, Scott and I are hanging out in Barnes & Noble and he asks me if I’ve ever read “Oh, the Places You’ll Go”. I tell him that I haven’t, and he seems genuinely surprised. “You HAVE TO read it,” he says. Then, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the Children’s section of the store. We grab one copy of the book and two seats next to each other on a small bench. There, we sit and we read each of the pages to each other until we finish the book. And, I start to cry. I won’t go into details about why the book touched me so much, but I will say this: sometimes the being an “adult” stuff (choosing a career, maintaining relationships, taking control of your finances, managing your own healthcare, making decisions about the future, etc., etc.) isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. And, it’s hard to do it all on your own.
Everyone has preferences when it comes to dating. Mine? I like foreign men. (Or, as my friend The E would say—“You and me? We don’t do domestic dick. We like our dick imported.”) So, it should come as no surprise to you that I recently met a charming young man from Australia. He’s funny, successful and very very attractive. Man, I LOOOOVE Australian accents. So, as I’m sitting here thinking about ideas for blog today’s topic, I figure: why not dedicate this day to those little guys from down under?
Australian men. Lately, for some reason, they seem to end up in steamy trysts with Sanaa Lathan on screen ( … first Simon Baker in Something New and now Julian McMahon in Nip Tuck). Hmm … What else do I known about Aussie men? They seem to have a reputation for being extremists — either rugged, violent-tempered cavemen who hurl their phones at innocent bystanders or nervous wrecks, metrosexual knobs, and tossbags. Nevertheless, hotties like Curtis Stone definitely do a hell of a PR job for Aussie Men. The first time that I saw his cooking show on TLC, I thought: Him. Feed me him. I’m hungry for Australian. So, needless to say, when my friends and I went out the other night and the hot Aussie guy started chatting me up, I was definitely interested.
The Aussie Guy tells me that he’s in New York on business, and he’ll return to Australia soon. He also tells me that he’s somewhat of a minor celebrity in Australia. Being the jaded and cynical NYC-dwelling woman that I am, I just assume he’s lying. (NOTE: Later, I google him. Oddly enough, he isn’t lying.) Anyway, the conversation continues. We swap numbers. He calls me. I call him back. Repeat cycle. Yada, yada, yada, a few days later we’re sharing jokes, dinner and drinks downtown. Fun guy.
And, since today seems to be shaping up to be Aussie Day at the Funky Brown Chick, now it’s YOUR turn to share your Aussie story. Have any of you seen the show “Take Home Chef“? Have you been to Australia? Do you like Australian ice cream? Do you have any thoughts about Aussie men? And, of course, the ultimate question: Are Aussie Men Droolworthy or Not?
I’m feeling hormonal. That probably explains why — even though I had a GREAT weekend & I’m currently being wooed by a cute Australian boy — I don’t quite feel like “myself” lately. Hmmm … be back soon. If not later today, definitely tomorrow.
I warn you now … this one is random. Okay, so, the other day, I’m on Wikipedia and I’m looking up ( … don’t ask me why …) feral children. You know, children that have been raised in the wild and/or with little to no human contact. I find out that there are only 100 or so documented cases in the world including: dog boy, wolf boy, chicken man and the little wolf girls. Does anyone else look up random shit on Wikipedia or am I alone? Anyone? Anyone?
